Ace Wolfe – POV
She looked like temptation poured into silk. The dress hugged her curves like it had been stitched directly onto her skin-which, of course, it had. My stylist had chosen it with one instruction: subtle but unforgettable.
But nothing about Aurora Grey was ever subtle. Not her mouth. Not her walk. Not the way she refused to bow like every other woman who would've killed to carry my name.
She wasn't mine. Not yet. But she would be.
"Didn't think you'd wear it," I said, unlocking the passenger door of the Maybach myself. I never did that. But for her-for that body-I made the exception.
She slid inside with a flick of hair over her shoulder, her scent trailing after her-warm vanilla and quiet rebellion. My knuckles brushed her bare back as I closed the door. Soft skin. Soft sigh. Dangerous combination.
I straightened my cuffs and got in beside her. "You clean up well."
She shot me a look. "Is that your version of a compliment?"
"I don't hand out compliments. I state facts."
She rolled her eyes but stayed quiet. The silence between us wasn't empty. It pulsed. Even the driver seemed to feel it-his grip tightening on the wheel.
We drove through the city, past glass towers full of men who thought they understood power. They didn't.
At the restaurant-mine, of course-there were no cameras, no gawkers. Just candlelight, ivory linens, and a skyline bowing through the windows.
Aurora sat down carefully, like the chair might collapse. Like I might collapse under her. Smart girl-she didn't trust me.
The waiter poured her wine. She sipped slow, her tongue sweeping across her lips to catch the gloss. My jaw flexed.
"I've been thinking about your resignation," I said finally.
Her eyes lifted. "Excuse me?"
"Your job. At that coffee shop. You should quit."
"No," she said instantly.
My brow arched. "No?"
"I need to work. I like to work."
"You won't need to once the press finds out you're engaged to me."
"That's your problem, not mine," she shot back. "Quitting would make it look like I'm running away from my life."
"And staying makes it look like you're afraid of change."
Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not afraid of anything."
A smirk tugged at my mouth. I picked up my phone and made a quick call. "Yes. Transfer it under Aurora Grey. Effective immediately."
She leaned forward, sharp and fierce. "What did you just do?"
"I bought the coffee shop," I said simply. "Congratulations-you're no longer an employee. You're the owner. Now you can do whatever the hell you want."
Her mouth fell open. "You can't just-"
"I can. And I did."
"You're insane."
"About certain things, yes." I let my eyes linger on her lips. "But mostly about you."
Her breath caught. She didn't know what to say to that. Good. I preferred her like this-off balance, lips parted, heartbeat loud enough I could practically hear it.
Dinner blurred past after that. She barely ate. I didn't care-I was already full, and not from the food.
When it ended, I rose and offered my hand. This time she hesitated before taking it. Unsure. Intrigued. Both thrilled me.
At the car, I opened her door and let the night air tighten the silence between us. "You're meeting my parents tomorrow," I said casually.
Her eyes widened. "What?"
"You're my fiancée now. They've requested brunch."
"I'm not ready for that."
"Doesn't matter." I reached out, brushing a curl from her cheek, letting my fingers linger just a second too long. "In our world, we don't wait for ready. We walk straight into the fire."
I leaned closer, lips hovering a breath from hers, the city lights burning against her skin.
"But don't worry," I murmured. "You won't burn alone."