I veered my gaze to the window. The car was at a good pace, so I didn’t need to worry about getting sick. I could finally admire the old quarter, and trust me, it was more beautiful in daylight.

After a while, the car pulled up in front of a tailor store, tucked between an aged stone building with dark-framed windows displaying suits that probably cost a fortune.

I got distracted when the car door was open for me, but before I could get out, Zade seized my hand.

I whipped my head just in time to see him slide my wedding ring through my finger.

Is he gonna keep doing this? Because this ring is considered an unwanted accessory for me.

As if he could read my mind, he pinned me with a look, and I got my answer

I snatched my hand away before he could do anything gross. I stepped out of the car, examining the ring in silence, the diamond catching the sunlight exquisitely.

To the rest of the public, it was a declaration of our marriage, but to me, it was more like a label attached to a fucking property.

Every muscle in my body stiffened instantly when Zade’s hand slid to the small of my back. He had lit his cigar, inhaling deeply from it, pausing for a bit before the smoke curled out of his nose. He leveled his stare at me.

I turned away, crossing my arms.

"Don’t be so uptight, pretty kitten."

Ugh!

"How would I know I won’t be shot at the moment we go in there..." I pinned him with a dark gaze. "Are you gonna use me again?"

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. "Not today."

How’s that supposed to make me feel better? On second thought, he wasn’t trying to do that.

Zade led me inside the store. The air smelled of cedar, pressed fabric, and expensive cologne. Dark wood paneling lined the walls, displayed suits, and shelves stacked with fine materials.

Everything else was burnished and well put together down to the last detail. There was no one here, not a single soul, even though I expected customers to be lurking.

It was almost as if it had been reserved for the day.

"Why did you bring me here?"

If he wanted a new suit, he could have just gotten it done himself. I had no idea why I tagged along. He threatened Cynthia for this shit?

I went rigid when his thumb stroked the small of my back, where it was a bit exposed.

"You’re my wife... where else would you be?"

I hate it when he does that.

"Treating me as a person, Don Salvero? You’re losing your touch," I said with a fake smile.

I gasped when he suddenly tucked me closer, my body pressing against his.

’"Zade..." His low voice brushed against my ear. "Do well to say my name."

I pressed my hand against his solid chest, pushing just enough to lock eyes with him.

"Don Salvero..." I spoke more slowly just in time to catch that muscle tick beneath his jaw, and for some reason, I welcomed that reaction.

"You do make discipline rather enjoyable, kitten."

When his hand drove lower to feel my asscheek, palming it as he owned it, I hitched in breath.

"So be bad... be difficult."

My throat bobbled because he didn’t say those words as a tease. He wanted me to misbehave.

"Mr. Salvero!"

I jerked away quickly, adjusting my skirt, pondering how he had easily slipped beneath without trouble.

Zade took my waist and pinned me to his side like we were glued.

Can’t he just go a minute without forcing me to his side?

At the sudden soft thud of footsteps, a man in glasses, wearing a waistcoat, dress shirt sleeves rolled up to the arms and neatly pressed pants, approached us with a big smile.

"I thought I wouldn’t be expecting you for another week!"

They shook hands.

"Change of plans," Zade replied.

He glanced my way, and his smile got warmer, the age lines showing.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Edmund Whitmore."

Whitmore? Oh my God!

He’s the famous tailor in Hightower! With an establishment in every quarter and other cities. Even Midnight!

His works are worn only by a select few; not even celebrities were worthy of his craft. I never realized he was based here.

"P-Please to meet you..." I murmured, trying to contain my excitement.

"Likewise. Please..." He led us through.

~☆~

I was seated on the sofa watching as Zade got tested for suits. They conversed lightly, cigars tucked between their lips.

This gave me the notion that they were more than acquaintances. They basically looked like friends.

Edmund took a step back, rubbing his chin covered with silver stubble beard, saying something I couldn’t follow before walking out as if to get something.

Zade stood in front of the full-length mirror, straightening the cuffs on his white dress shirt. The fabric strained for life with every motion, tightening against those biceps, and don’t get me started on his back.

He’s huge. A fact I knew already, but I always found myself hitting a pause and reminding myself of how lethal he was.

Just like a week ago when he came to retrieve me for the wedding. I had never met him in person until then, so imagine the dread my poor heart had.

Physically fighting against this man was impossible. It made sense why I couldn’t use my switchblade against him.

I never would have stood a chance.

Having that thought in mind gave me an ounce of relief, but also created a foul feeling because I wanted to somehow overpower him, but so far, I’ve been doing a shitty job, letting him get under my skin and relish in my distress.

I froze when Zade’s gaze stayed locked on mine as he began buttoning up his shirt.

The way those hooded eyes fixated on me was far from how they usually did. This was possessive, and he wasn’t hiding it.