Page 148 of Money Reigns
The shower cuts off. A curl of steam escapes through the cracked bathroom door. Then Olivia steps out.
Her face is fresh, bare. No armor.
Just those wide, beautiful brown eyes that undo me every time.
She’s wearing my sweater, the one she stole without asking. It drapes over her curves, clinging to them when she moves, loose in others.
She’s perfect.
And I sent her in there like cannon fodder.
She crosses the room to me, quiet as a breath, and stops.
Her fingers slide into my hair, soft and tender. The simplest touch, and it nearly undoes me.
My eyes close.
“Are you okay?” she asks softly. Her voice catches. “I know that’s a dumb question, but… are you?”
I open my eyes, look into hers—and every wall I’ve ever built starts to crack.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. The words drag out of me like a confession. “I should’ve let you stay here. Explore Paris. Instead, I dragged you into that circus and let them…berateyou. Interrogate you.”
My chest tightens, splitting open.
I’ve taken fists to the face. Dealt with monsters.
But nothing,nothing,has ever cut me like watching her sit at that table and take their judgment with her chin held high.
She deserved candlelight. Roses.
Not to be treated like a fucking transaction.
And I brought her there.
She exhales, shoulders dipping. “It’s okay.”
I shake my head. Hard. “No. It’s not. I should’ve known better.”
My hand slides along the curve of her hip. I squeeze, grounding myself in the feel of her. “They don’tdeserveyou.”
A pause.
“Hell, neither do I. But you’re mine.”
Her breath catches. Her lips part.
That’s all it takes.
I rise, pulling her with me, my hand anchored at her waist. Our mouths meet slow; deep. I turn and guide her down onto the bed.
She sinks into the sheets, eyes locked on mine, chest rising and falling like she’s waiting for proof that I meant every word.
I strip us bare between kisses. The sweater slides up and over her head, her skin revealed inch by inch.
My shirt gone.
Her hands on my belt.
