His thumb brushes slowly over the empty space on my finger where my wedding ring used to be.
My throat tightens instantly.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “They took it from me.”
The words feel small compared to what was stolen.
Trey doesn’t look away from my hand.
“I’ll get you a new one,” he says quietly.
Not a promise.
A vow.
When I’ve put on my shoes, he doesn’t hesitate.
His hand closes around mine, firm and unyielding, and he pulls me toward him.
The kiss is not gentle. It’s bruising in its intensity.
A reclamation. A reminder.
I’m here. You’re here. We survived.
My body melts into him without thought, heart stuttering as the world narrows to the press of his mouth against mine.
When he finally pulls back, his breath is uneven.
“I needed that,” he murmurs against my lips.
His thumb brushes my knuckles as he laces our fingers together, holding on like letting go is not an option.
He leads me out.
The dogs follow ahead of us, tails brushing the floor, alert and protective.
I breathe him in as we walk, still feeling the echo of the kiss on my lips.
We barely make it into the lounge before I stop.
A man is seated there.
The same one who was here when Johnathon brought me back.
He rises as we enter, moving toward me with calm precision, offering his hand.
“Mrs. Baker,” he says smoothly. “It’s a pleasure to officially meet you. I’m Niko Romanov. Valentino’s uncle.”
Something about him unsettles me immediately.
Not openly threatening.
Worse.
Controlled.
Like a man who knows exactly what he is and what he can do.
