Page 86 of Trapping His Queen

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I used what I’d been thinking lately as mydad's voice. “Roman.”

He sighed, “You already have an heir. Nothing I do can take the place of blood.”

“That is not true at all. I meant what I said about adopting you. Not only that, while I won’t ask you to call me your father, I hope one day to earn that honor. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, you are my son, regardless of what you call me.”

“We need to get the lawyer to draw up documents and secure a license,” Roman muttered, taking out his phone and typing on the keyboard. “For the marriage.”

I thought about the ring I wanted to buy Sloane. Money wasn’t an issue, but she was headstrong. She wouldn’t want to marry me. I was certain of that.

I sped through the streets of Manhattan, gritting my teeth from all the traffic we endured. Finally, we pulled behind the Cartier.

“I had another great idea,” Roman said.

I groaned. “Out with it.”

“After this, we can go to the famous dress shop on Fifth Avenue.”

I pulled into my parking space and turned to stare at him in confusion. “What makes it famous?”

“You’ve never seen the show?”

I shook my head. “Russian, remember?”

“Well, there’s this show where all the women say yes to their bridal dress, and it’s very popular in this country. I bet Sloane would really appreciate the gesture.”

“And you used to watch this show?”

“I used to go past this little bodega that would give me free snacks when I was homeless, and the owner’s wife was always watching it. I had nothing better to do while waiting for the shelter to open, so I would sit inside and eat a muffin and watch the television.”

I shook my head from the bleak story. No child should have to live like that.

We went into the ring store first. It was bigger than I’d expected. I mean I knew the brand was high end, but I hadn’t known the stores would be so vast. I’d just heard about them from bad American television that Viktor would watch when he didn’t think anyone was around to see it.

The thought of my treacherous brother sent a surge of rage through my veins.

I shook off my feelings as a petite blonde greeted us in a well-pressed business suit.

“May I help you, gentlemen?” She motioned to two chairs seated in front of a rounded rose gold jewelry case.

We sat in the provided seats. I wanted to sink into them deeper because they were so comfortable. Roman nudged my leg with his foot.

I cleared my throat, “Yes, we are shopping for a ring for my fiancé.”

She smiled kindly. “Is this your son?”

“Yes,” I replied before Roman could.

Roman blushed as the saleswoman cooed over us. “Aw, that is so sweet. What size ring?”

“A size eight,” Roman stated absently as he gazed at the selection behind the glass.

“Can you tell me more about your fiancé?” The saleswoman started taking out rings from the case so we could get a closer look.

“She’s a workaholic and loves to read. I think we may get a dog in our future, and we’ll be having kids. I want to get something that shows her off but isn’t so big and gaudy that it catches on everything. I do not want her to ever have to remove it from her finger.”

The saleslady, whose gold name tag read Brenda, smiled good-naturedly. “Does she have a color preference? White gold or yellow gold or platinum?”

“Oh!” I felt my own face heat because I didn’t know the answer. “No preference.”


Tags: Selena Michaels Romance