Page 112 of Money Reigns
“This.” I hold it up. “With the cream skirt and heels. You’ll wear it today.”
Her throat works as she swallows, fork paused halfway to her lips.
I smooth the fabric once before laying it neatly at the foot of the bed. Then I add the silk lingerie beneath it, the straps delicate, designed for me to peel off her later.
Her brows draw in as she takes in the clothing on the bed, but she says nothing.
Good.
She needs to understand what this is.
“You don’t need to worry about what to bring next time.” My voice stays even, controlled, the way I give orders at work. “Everything you need is here now. Clothes. Makeup. Shoes.Perfume. Your sizes, your colors, your preferences; I’ve taken care of it.”
Her lips part, but no sound comes out.
“You’ll be staying the weekend,” I tell her, calm but deliberate.
Her fork clatters softly against the tray.
“This morning a walk through the Conservatory Garden. You’ll like it. Roses, fountains, quiet paths where no one will bother us.”
Her lips part like she wants to argue, but I don’t let her.
“After that, an art exhibit. Something I want you to see. Tonight, dinner. No parties. No noise. Just us.”
I let the silence stretch until she finally looks at me. Then I pin her there with my eyes.
“And after this weekend,” I murmur, leaning forward, “you’ll leave with me every morning to work. You’ll come home with me every night. And by the end of the week, Olivia, you’ll be moved in.”
Her breath hitches.
I smile. Slow. Dangerous.
Inside, my chest is a riot. Because the thought of her here—permanently,sets something loose I’ve never let myself feel before.
But she doesn’t need to know that. Not yet.
All she needs to know is this:
Her life belongs to me now.
Chapter twenty-three
Olivia
The sex? Amazing.
This food? Phenomenal.
Warren Beaumont pulling out clothes, lining them up like soldiers, and telling me I’m moving in?
No.
No.
No.
NO.
