Page 48 of Hitched to My Enemy

"Easton, I built my career on rules, boundaries, and meticulous planning. Then you came along and upended everything—first as my professional adversary, then as my accidental husband, and finally as the partner I never knew I needed." I tightened my grip on his hands. "You taught me that sometimes the most valuable discoveries happen whenplans collapse. You showed me that flexibility isn't always compromise, and that trust can be stronger than certainty."

I smiled, letting him see everything I felt without reservation. "This time, I'm choosing you deliberately—your vision, your determination, your capacity to learn and grow. I promise to challenge you when you need it, support you when it matters, and stand beside you in everything that comes next."

The exchange of rings—platinum bands that would never turn our fingers green like those chapel-provided ones—felt like sealing a covenant more significant than either of us had anticipated six months ago.

***

Later, as we danced beneath the crystal chandeliers, the Strip creating a tapestry of light behind us, I rested my head against Easton's shoulder.

"Record-breaking six months," he murmured against my hair.

"The Jade Petal's revenue or our relationship timeline?" I asked, smiling against the fine fabric of his tuxedo.

"Both." His hand tightened at my waist. "From enemies to partners to lovers to husband and wife in less than a year. I'd call that impressively efficient."

"Or reckless," I countered, though the word had lost its sting. "The best mistake we ever made."

"Some rules are worth breaking." He pulled back enough to meet my eyes, his expression unguarded in a way few people ever witnessed. "Or perhaps rewriting entirely."

"A collaborative approach?" I suggested, deliberately echoing our professional terminology.

"To everything." He spun me gently before drawing me back against him. "The Jade Petal, the oversight model, us—it all works because we stopped seeing each other as two-dimensional adversaries, but real people with beating hearts."

Around us, the reception continued—Giselle laughing with David near the champagne fountain, commissioners mingling with casino executives in conversations that would have been unthinkable a year ago, journalists documenting what had become Vegas's most unexpected power couple.

But in that moment, wrapped in Easton's arms as we moved across the floor, I wasn't thinking about career achievements or regulatory innovations. I was thinking about chance—how one impulsive night had changed everything, how what should have been my greatest professional mistake had become my greatest personal blessing.

"What are you thinking about?" Easton asked, reading my expression with the familiarity of someone who had made studying me a priority.

"The future," I replied honestly. "Ours."

His smile—the genuine one, not the polished version he showed the public—warmed me from within. "I like those odds."

And as Vegas glittered beyond the windows, as familiar and yet different as we ourselves had become, I realized some gambles were always worth taking. Especially when you found a partner who made you better with every play.

"So do I, my love," I whispered, sealing the promise with a kiss. "So do I."