The return to the Thorne estate was marked by the long, amber shadows of a dying sun. As the Maybach glided up the winding driveway, Adam was fast asleep against Violet's side, his small hand still loosely clutching the crinkled paper bag from the candy shop.
Violet looked down at him, her heart giving a soft, traitorous tug. She looked out the window at the sprawling stone mansion and felt a strange sense of displacement. This wasn't her world, yet she was starting to recognize the shape of the furniture.
When the car stopped, the door was opened not by a footman, but by Roman himself. He stood there, silhouetted against the grand entryway, his sleeves still rolled up, his tie gone. He looked less like a CEO and more like a man waiting for his life to return to him.
"He's out cold," Violet whispered, carefully shifting so Roman could reach in.
Roman leaned into the car, his large frame momentarily crowding Violet's personal space. The scent of him- something dark, masculine, and expensive, filled her lungs. He scooped Adam up with a practiced ease, the boy barely stirring, merely tucking his face into Roman's neck.
"I'll take him," Roman murmured. He looked at Violet, his blue eyes searching hers in the dim light of the carriage port. "The card? Did you find anything you needed?"
Violet reached into her small bag and handed him the black card. "We got a green apple, a turkey wrap, and a very small bag of gummy bears. I think I spent a grand total of fifteen dollars of your empire's money, Roman. I hope the board of directors can forgive the extravagance."
A ghost of a smirk touched Roman's lips. "I'll manage the fallout." He paused, his gaze lingering on her face, which was flushed from the sun and the afternoon's play. "You're leaving?"
"I have a life, remember?" she reminded him with a gentle, sassy tilt of her head. "Chores to do, groceries to buy. My fridge currently contains half a lemon and some oat milk. I'll be back tomorrow morning."
"I'll have a driver take you to the market and then home," Roman said. It wasn't a question; it was the closest he could get to a polite offer without losing his edge.
"I can take the subway, Roman."
"Violet," he said, his voice dropping into that warning rumble. "The car. Please."
She sighed, giving in to the 'Please'- a word that was clearly a struggle for him.
"Fine. But tell the driver I'm not a princess; he doesn't need to open the door for me at the grocery store."
She reached out and gave Adam's dangling foot a soft squeeze. "Night, Adam," she whispered. Then, meeting Roman's eyes one last time, "Goodnight, Mr. Thorne."
An hour later, the estate was silent. Roman sat on the edge of Adam's bed, the only light coming from a small dinosaur-shaped lamp in the corner. He had helped Adam into his pajamas and listened to the boy's sleepy, rambling account of the park.
"And then," Adam murmured, his voice thick with impending sleep, "Violet ran really fast. Faster than the dragon, Daddy. And she laughed. It sounds like... like bells."
Roman smoothed the duvet over his son's chest. "It sounds like she had a good day with you, Ace."
"She did. She's the best." Adam rolled onto his side, his eyes fluttering shut, but then they snapped open again, bright with a sudden, sharp clarity. He looked up at his father, his expression incredibly serious. "Daddy?"
"Yeah, Ace?"
"I'm going to ask Violet to marry me."
Roman froze. The hand that had been stroking Adam's hair went still. A cold, sharp jolt of shock- and that ridiculous, recurring jealousy, shot through him. He stared at his five-year-old son, feeling a bizarre sense of rivalry that he knew was insane, yet he couldn't stomp it out.
"You're what?" Roman managed to ask, his voice sounding strangled.
"I want her to stay forever," Adam said, nodding firmly. "She makes the house not quiet. And she smells like Strawberries. If I marry her, she doesn't have to go home to her fridge with the lemon. She can live here and sing to us every night."
Roman sat back, his heart thudding against his ribs. He looked around the darkened room, at the expensive toys and the perfect decor, and realized his son had just voiced the very thing Roman had been trying to bury under "boundaries" and "dossiers."
"Adam," Roman said, trying to find his authoritative voice and failing miserably.
"Marriage is... it's a big thing. You're five. You have to wait until you're a man to marry someone."
"But if I wait, someone else might get her," Adam argued, his logic flawless and devastating. "That man at the club with the velvet jacket? Or the man who wanted to take her to the penthouse? I saw them, Daddy. They want her too."
Roman's jaw clenched so hard he heard the bone pop. The thought of anyone else- anyone who wasn't a Thorne, claiming VioletNoir was enough to make him want to burn the city down. He felt a dark, aggressive possessiveness flare up, but this time, it wasn't directed at the socialites. It was a realization of his own hunger.
"I won't let anyone else 'get' her, Adam," Roman promised, his voice low and dangerous.
"Then you should marry her," Adam suggested, as if he were solving a simple math problem. "If you marry her, she's our Violet. Then she's safe."
Roman looked at his son, the boy's innocent blue eyes reflecting his own. OurViolet. The words echoed in the silence of the room. He pictured her in the morning, her hair in a braid, her sassy tongue putting him in his place. He pictured her at night, a silver goddess under the lights, her angelic voice soothing his jagged soul. He pictured her here, in this house, filling the cold marble halls with the sound of her laughter.
"It's not that simple, Ace," Roman whispered, though in his mind, it was becoming the only thing that mattered.
"Violet is... she's like a bird. You can't just put her in a cage, even a gold one. She has to want to stay."
"She likes us," Adam insisted, his voice trailing off as sleep finally began to win. "I saw her smile at you when you gave her the black card. It was a secret smile."
Roman didn't answer. He waited until Adam's breathing leveled out into the deep, rhythmic pattern of sleep. He stood up and walked to the window, looking out toward the city lights where he knew Violet was currently walking through a grocery store, probably picking out the humblest of items, unaware that a titan and his son were both currently obsessed with the idea of keeping her forever.
He thought about the rules she had set. No flirting. No expensive gifts. No bossing her around.
He realized that to get the angel to stay, he would have to do the one thing he was worst at: he would have to be patient. He would have to earn her. He would have to dismantle the walls he'd built and show her the man beneath the shadow.
But as he looked at his reflection in the glass, Roman's icy blue eyes held a predatory glint of determination. He was a man who won every war he started. And if the prize was Violet Noir, he was prepared to be the most patient, most persistent man on earth.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a single text to Tyson.
Find out which grocery store she uses. Ensure the manager stocks her favorite items. Tomorrow morning, have the florist deliver a single blue hydrangea to the estate. Just one.
He wouldn't break the gift rule. He would just make the world a little more beautiful for her, one blue petal at a time.