Page 39 of Her Nightshade

“Oh my God, of course! Ana Martin, it’s so nice to meet you! I’m such a huge fan. Not, you know, because of your husband—I mean ex-husband—but I absolutely love–”

“It’s Del Rosario,” Charlie interjected smoothly. “Ashford someday, I hope.” He glanced my way, and while I was grateful he cut off Jennifer’s rambling, his casual mention of marriage sent a pang of sadness through me.

Jennifer’s face lit up, her blonde curls bouncing as she clapped her hands together. “Oh my God, that’s so exciting! You two are the absolute best-looking couple out there,” she gushed.

“Thanks. Nice to see you, Jennifer. We need to make our rounds,” Charlie replied, giving her shoulder a light tap before steering us further into the crowd, his grip still firm around my hand.

He leaned down, speaking softly into my ear, “Sorry about that. She’d go on forever if I didn’t stop her.” He led me into a sea of familiar and new faces—famous actors, musicians, icons I brushed shoulders with before, others I always wanted to meet, and a few I was glad to only pass by.

Charlie made a point of introducing me as his girlfriend to every single person we spoke to, his pride evident each time he said the words. Most people greeted us warmly, unfazed yet delighted by our presence.

“Let’s get you a drink,mi diosa,” Charlie said in my ear once we circled through a handful of introductions. He ordered me a red wine and a shot of whiskey for himself, which made me raise an eyebrow. It was unusual for him to go straight for a shot; maybe he was nervous about performing tonight? But after a decade on stage, could that still be the case?

“Nervous?” I asked over the beat of the music, leaning closer so he could hear.

He nodded, tossing back the shot and meeting my gaze with wide, vulnerable eyes. “Yes. Not about whattheythink…about whatyouthink.” His need for my approval was stark, woven into every move he made tonight.

“I know I’ll love it, baby. I love everything you do,” I replied, offering him a reassuring smile.

A grin spread across his face and he squeezed my hand before leading me back into the crowd. With each introduction, he seemed intent on making it clear: I wasn’t just with him—I washis. His possessiveness was subtle but clear, at least to me.

Midway through a conversation with a Grammy-nominated singer, someone else approached—a pop icon, easily the biggest star in the world. I felt a flicker of awe just standing there, trying not to let my excitement show too much.

“Excuse me, love. I need to set up. Will you be okay?” Charlie murmured, his lips close to my ear. “Reese will bringyou to the stage when we’re ready,” he added, gesturing to the man I’d heard so much about. Reese was tall, not much older than Charlie, and had a laid-back, hipster vibe that seemed to contrast with the rest of the room.

I nodded, though I was suddenly more anxious than before. Being left alone in a room full of people from an industry I didn’t belong to was unsettling. Charlie must have caught the hesitation in my expression, his brows lifting slightly before he nodded and slipped away into the crowd.

“You are so wonderful and elegant, Ana. I’ve been such a huge fan for years. I love what you did with…” The pop star leaned close enthusiastically, but her words quickly faded into the background. My heart pounded, tension buzzing under my skin as I realized just how much I disliked standing there without Charlie beside me. Somewhere along the way, I became dependent on him in a way I hadn’t expected.

The realization unsettled me, yet I couldn’t deny how much I wanted him near, how deeply I needed his presence. It was an unfamiliar feeling, but I found myself holding onto it as tightly as I held onto him.

“Check, one, two,” Charlie’s voice rang out through the speakers, and I barely registered Reese’s gentle interruption as he placed his hand on my arm and motioned for me to follow.

“This way,” he said, guiding me through the crowd. He led me to a seat just beside the stage, secluded from the rest of the audience but close enough that I was near Charlie. As I sat, I glanced up, catching his eyes as he adjusted the microphone stand. He smiled down at me, a look of nervousness mixed with excitement.

“Hello, everyone. Thanks for having me here,” he began, his voice filling the room. An assistant brought out an acoustic guitar and Charlie slipped the strap over his shoulder with the ease of someone born to perform. “I’m so grateful to have beennominated for Album of the Year. It’s…truly a dream come true.” He placed a hand over his heart and the crowd erupted in cheers, his humble expression making the moment even more endearing.

Then his gaze found mine, his dimpled grin growing as he took a deep breath. “Tonight, I wanted to share a little bit of my world with you,” he continued, his eyes still locked on mine. “I’ve got some new material—stuff you won’t hear anywhere else for a while. But tonight, I want to share it with a beautiful, wonderful, amazing woman—Ana Del Rosario.” He gestured towards me and as the crowd cheered, heat rose to my cheeks. The attention, the celebration of us, was overwhelming in the best way.

“I’ve written a few songs for Ana and I want to play a couple for her tonight.” His voice softened as he said, “I love you, Ana. More than I ever thought was possible.” His gaze held mine, and tears welled in my eyes as he began to strum his guitar.

His voice filled the room, singing about being swept off his feet, caught in an all-consuming love, wanting me more than anything else. Each lyric expressed his desire to worship, adore, and never leave my side, his smooth tone climbing into falsettos and dipping into raspy lows with emotion. Through every verse, his eyes stayed on me, making me feel as though we were the only two people in the room. My heart thundered in my chest, his declaration of love igniting a depth of longing within me I hadn’t anticipated from mere words.

As he finished, he transitioned into another ballad, this one about finding me in his darkest moments and how he couldn’t imagine breathing without me. His voice caressed each note, and hearing him singmi diosain the lyrics sent a rush of butterflies swirling in my stomach.

I felt intoxicated, as though his voice had seeped into my bloodstream, leaving me desperate for him. By the time hefinished his final song, a wild desire took over me, an urge to pull him into the nearest private space and fuck him senseless.

As applause thundered, Charlie made his way off the stage and took my hand, leading me through the crowd. People reached out to congratulate him, to draw him into conversation, but he didn’t stop. Moments later, we slipped into a secluded room and he shut the door, locking it behind us before pressing me hard against the wall. His breathing was rough, his gaze dark and filled with intensity that was only for me.

He captured my mouth in a heated, fervent kiss, his hands roaming my body with urgency. I hitched my dress up, not caring about ruining it now, and wrapped my legs around him, feeling the warmth of his skin pressed firmly to mine. In a swift movement, he tore away my underwear, thrusting into me with a force that made me gasp. I pulled back from our kiss, burying my face in his neck as a moan escaped my lips, biting down to stifle the sound, though the sound of music outside covered any noise.

“I love you,mi diosa. I’m all yours. Everything about me is yours,” he murmured against my ear.

“Yes, baby. I’m yours, too. I love you,” I whispered back, the words spilling out as we clung to each other.

Charlie suddenly sank his teeth into my shoulder, the sharp sensation sending a shockwave through me, mingling pain and desire until they were indistinguishable. A gasp tore from my throat, followed by an unexpected, blinding rush of release.

“Hurt me,mi diosa. Make me feel it, make me feel your love, too,” he growled, his movements growing rougher, his fierce gaze locked on mine. A faint smear of blood stained his lips, his eyes wild and daring, and I felt a primal need surge within me.

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