Page 127 of Vow to Claim You

He’s quiet for a moment. Thinking. I can practically see the gears turning behind those ice-blue eyes, already ten moves ahead, fitting every possibility into a plan only he can see.

“What if you hosted something?”

I frown. “Hosted what?”

“A charity gala,” he says casually, like it’s just occurred to him—but I know Aric better now. Nothing just occurs to him. Everything is calculated. “The Vold name carries weight in Norway. A gala hosted by the new Mrs. Vold would draw significant attention. Donations. Press, if you want it. The chance to establish yourself as more than just my wife.”

My heart stutters.

“You’d let me do that?”

“Let you?” His brow arches. “I’m suggesting it. The execution would be entirely yours. Guest list, theme, venue, whatever you want. I provide the resources. You provide the vision.”

I swallow past the sudden tightness in my throat.

“A charity gala,” I repeat, the smile broadening on its own. “I could do that. I could do that well, actually. Back home, I organized the Royal Children’s Foundation benefit three years running. Raised more than any⁠—”

I stop myself because I see the way he’s looking at me. Like my childlike excitement amuses him. But I get to see those dimples when he keeps smiling while watching me like that, so no complaints.

“How long would you need?”

The question stops me—him already treating it as real, already moving to logistics. “Six weeks. Eight, to do it properly.”

“You’ll have eight.”

A commotion in the hallway cuts off. Raised voices, Ingrid’s gentle tone, then Eero’s sharper one—and then my blood goes cold.

I know that voice.

I’m on my feet before I’ve made the conscious decision to move. Aric is faster, already standing, already between me and the door, one hand reaching for something I can’t see but can definitely guess at.

The door bursts open, and I see my sister.

Naomi.

My eighteen-year-old baby sister, who is supposed to be safe in Monsera, supposed to be protected by our parents, supposed to be anywhere but standing in the doorway of my bedroom looking like she’s just run a marathon through hell.

Her brown hair is tangled. Her hazel eyes are red-rimmed and wild, and there’s a bruise on her wrist that makes my stomach knot.

“Ayanna.” She sobs, shaking. “Ayanna, I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go, I⁠—”

I step out of the bedroom and pull her into my arms without thinking.

She collapses against me. Trembling. Crying. My composed, gentle sister who always smiles, who was supposed to be safe—shattered to pieces in my arms.

“I’ve got you.” I hold her tighter. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

Over her shoulder, I see Eero leaning against the wall. He’s staring at Naomi with an expression I’ve never seen on his face before. Gone is the easy smirk, the careless charm, the boy who treats everything like a joke. In its place is something raw. Something fierce. Something that looks a great deal like the way Aric looks at me.

Oh.

I shake the thought off. Right now, my sister needs me.

We head to Aric’s office. It takes twenty minutes to calm Naomi enough to speak. Ingrid brings tea. Eero hovers near the door like he can’t decide whether to stay or go, but he stays the moment Naomi’s eyes flick to him, and some of the tension leaves her shoulders. Aric watches from his desk.

Finally, Naomi pulls back from my arms. Wipes her eyes with the back of her hand and takes a shaky breath.

“Father broke his promise.” Her voice is still cracking. “A man came to the house. Three days ago.” Her brows knit together. “Older. Maybe fifty. I don’t know his name, but I know his face. He’s been to Father’s meetings before. The kind of meetings we’re not supposed to know about.”