Page 36 of His to Destroy

The message I want to pass daily is clear: she belongs to me.

But it’s more than that.

Because somewhere between all the calculated steps, I stopped thinking of her as a pawn.

And started seeing her as something else entirely.

She descends the staircase like a storm in silk and I feel a stab in my chest that I haven’t taken her anywhere that would make her dress up like this since the wedding.

Her dress is black and fitted. Long enough to brush the marble with every step she takes. It clings to her curves and catches the light in ways that make it hard to breathe. Her hair is pulled back, exposing the sharp angle of her jaw and the delicate line of her neck.

She’s not wearing much jewelry. Just a pair of diamond earrings and a bracelet I bought her last week.

But oh my, she glows.

Every eye in the room will be on her tonight.

And I don’t know whether to be proud or afraid.

"You're staring," she says when she reaches the bottom, snapping her fingers in my face.

"Can you blame me?" I chuckle, catching her hand and planting a kiss on it.

Her lips twitch. "Try not to look so smug. This was your idea."

"And a good one. I should have ideas like this more often."

She rolls her eyes but takes my arm when I offer it.

We’re about to walk out when she stops and calls for someone in the kitchen. The staff comes running out, greeting me politely before turning to face her.

“Luca goes to sleep by 8. No later, please. No matter what he says. No matter how adorable he sets his eyes,” she instructs.

I watch in adoration as she continues to issue instructions about the house to the housekeeper. I can’t believe she thought I’d interfere in her parenting.

What gave her that impression, I have no idea.

I haven’t fathered anyone before and I didn’t exactly have a wonderful example of a template. But Luca is her first child, born through the toughest time of her life and yet, she mothers him like I wish I was.

“That will be all now. Thank you so much for the work you do, Lisa,” she concludes, smiling at the woman.

Lisa grins back at her and I can tell that she enjoys working for and with Almeria.

“Shall we?” I ask, kissing her hand again.

She gives me a nod, trying to stop herself from smiling so she can act like she doesn’t like me kissing her hands.

We walk out together, the car waiting for us in the driveway.

We look the part.

But inside, everything feels like it’s shifting.

It takes an hour and a half to get to the event, since Almeria’s mansion is on the outskirts of town.

The venue is grand. Ornate ceilings, chandeliers that drip with crystal, golden accents in every corner. The kind of place meant to impress and intimidate.

As we walk in, heads turn.

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