I flinch.
“Get out,” Royal orders, and Vinnie does, followed by his two goons.
We listen to the front door open and close. There’s a minor commotion, and Enzo jogs up to the office door, out of breath.
“Sorry boss,” Enzo pants. “They took out Jimmy. Knocked him unconscious.”
“Fuck.” Lula whips her briefcase off Royal’s desk. “I’ve got a med kit in my car.”
“Go.” Royal waves a hand to them both. “Secure the perimeter.”
Lula and Enzo file out.
I bury my face in my hands.
“Leah.” Royal’s voice is soft. He sinks to his knees in front of me. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“It’s okay,” I whisper. I can’t deal with what just happened so I ask the first thing that’s been bothering me. “You met me a year ago?”
“I didn’t think you'd remember.”
“I don’t. Lula told me. I’m sorry, I was going through a break up and—”
“It’s okay, cara. You’ve been through a lot. But you still took the time to help a man who was bleeding.”
I take his hand, the one he used to hit his father. The red knuckles spark a memory in me. A wild-haired man in a dark, dusty coat. His face was bruised, his lip puffy and broken. I had thought he was homeless. He did have beautiful dark eyes. Was that Royal?
“I’d just survived an attack. I wasn’t fit to be seen. But you saw me.” He clasps my hand, turning it over so the diamond winks between us. “And I saw you. I knew the right woman was out there, waiting for me. And then there you were.” His whisper is pure sin, silky and intimate. “No one else seemed to notice you. But I did.” Like everything he says, this causes seismic shifts inside me. “I would’ve come to you sooner, but it wasn't safe. Not until I had more of a foothold.”
He’s talking about gangs and turf wars again, things over my head.
I swallow. “Your father—”
“He’s losing power.” Royal sounds dismissive.
“He doesn’t approve of me.”
“He doesn’t matter.”
“But what he said…” I close my eyes and let the tears fall.
“No, Leah. Do not cry over what he said.” Royal braces me in his strong arms, bundling me into his lap. His chair dips as he leans back, holding my head to his chest. My tears spot his white shirt.
“Poor principessa. I’ll make him pay for what he did to you.”
“I’m okay,” I sniffle. Royal presents a handkerchief and I give a half laugh. Trust Royal to be a mix of modern and old world courtesies.
I fix my gaze on his beautiful face while he dries my tears. His warmth and scent anchor me.
“I didn’t speak until I was four years old.” He tips my face this way and that, examining it for tears. “My father thought I was a failure. He sent me away.”
“He was wrong,” I say.
“Yes.” Royal grips my chin. “He’s wrong about most things.”
A sigh shudders out of me, and I nod.
“Forget him,” Royal orders. “He’s nothing. You’re everything.”
“You just need to marry someone,” I say before I can stop myself. He scowls and glances away then shakes his head.
“I want to marry you. At first, I looked for a bride who would know her place beside me. Someone from one of the three other families, someone convenient. But the more I watched you, the more I knew how perfect you would be. I need someone like you at my side.” He rubs his thumb up and down my finger gently, cherishing even this small part of me. “When I am with you, I feel it. Fate,” he finishes.
I blink at him through wet lashes. “What if I need more than fate?” I ask, but I’m wavering. He’s never let me down. Not in the short time I’ve known him. He’s been so fiercely protective of me, of anyone even tangentially related to me.
He treats me like I’m someone special. Even if I have my reservations, I’m not strong enough to give that up.
“Fate brings us together,” he says, “you and me? We get to write the rest of it together. Fate leaves the fun parts for us to discover.” My heart thumps in my chest and he leans in to kiss me. I let him, and he slowly kisses across my face, brushing away any tears that are left.
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
“Trust me,” he says. I let my eyes fall closed. He wants me to believe that I’m the best choice for him. I can trust him, but can I trust in the truth of us?
I can try. For Royal, I will try.
Leah
The wedding dress fits perfectly.
I can’t believe I’m doing this. But Royal asked me to trust him, and now I’m wearing all of the lace that exists in our state, what with the veil, shoes, bralette and garter belt holding up sheer stockings. And then the crowning glory of it all, the dress itself, a bespoke explosion of tulle and satin. I turn and peer at myself in the mirror, a glittering backdrop of expensive shoes and handbags behind me.