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King of Wrath: Chapter 44

Dante

“That’s Scorpio.” Vivian pointed to a spot in the sky. “Do you see it?”

I followed her gaze toward the constellation. It looked like any other cluster of stars.

“Mmmhmm. Looks great.”

She turned her head and narrowed her eyes. “Do you really see it, or are you lying?”

“I see stars. Lots of them.”

Vivian huffed out a half groan, half laugh. “You’re hopeless.”

“I told you, I’m not and never will be an astronomy expert. I’m just here for the view and the company.” I kissed the top of her head.

We lay on a pile of blankets and cushions outside our glamping resort in Chile’s Atacama Desert, one of the world’s top stargazing destinations.

After all the shit that’d gone down last month, this was the perfect place to reset before our wedding, which we’d pushed back to September due to renovations taking longer than expected.

We’d spent the past four days hiking volcanoes, luxuriating in hot springs, and exploring sand dunes. My assistant had nearly keeled over with shock when I told her I was taking ten days off from work, but she’d put together the perfect itinerary for my first real vacation since I became CEO.

I’d even left my work phone at home. My team had the resort’s number in case of emergencies, but they knew not to bother me unless the building was literally burning down.

“True. I guess you can stick to looking pretty.” Vivian patted my arm.

“We all have our talents—”

She broke off into a squeal when I rolled her over and pinned her beneath me.

“Watch your mouth,” I growled, giving her a playful nip. “Or I’ll punish you right here where anyone can see.”

The stars reflected in her eyes and glittered with mischief. “Is that a warning or promise?”

My groan traveled between us, dark and filled with heat. “You’re a fucking tease.”

“You’re the one who started it.” Vivian wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Russo.”

“When have I ever?” I skimmed my lips over the delicate line of her jaw. “But before we shock the other guests with an X-rated show…” Her laughter vibrated down my spine. “I have a confession.”

My heart picked up speed.

I’d spent a month preparing for this moment, yet I felt like I was teetering on the edge of a cliff without a parachute.

Vivian tilted her head. “Confession as in you forgot to book our horseback rides tomorrow, or confession as in you murdered someone and need my help burying the body?”

“Why do you always default to the morbid?”

“Because I’m friends with Isabella, and you’re scary.”

“I thought you said my talent was looking pretty,” I teased.

“Pretty and scary.” An impish smile curved her mouth. “They’re not mutually exclusive.”

“Good to know, but no, I didn’t murder anyone,” I said dryly. I pushed off her and sat up straight.

The desert night was cool and crisp, but heat clung to my skin like a tight-fitting suit.

“Thank God. I’m not great with shovels.” Vivian sat up as well and eyed me with curiosity. “So, this confession. Is it good or bad? Do I need to mentally prepare myself?”

“It’s good. I hope.” I cleared my throat, my heart now throttling full speed ahead. “Do you remember my trip to Malaysia a few weeks ago?”

“The seventy-two hour one? Yes.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe you flew all the way there just to stay for one day. It must’ve been an important meeting.”

“It was. I went to see my mother.”

My parents had moved on from Bali and were now in Langkawi.

Confusion pinched a frown between her brows. “Why?”

She knew my mother and I didn’t have the type of relationship where I’d drop everything to see her.

My parents still exasperated the hell out of me, but I’d made peace with their shortcomings. They were who they were, and compared to people like Francis Lau, they were fucking saints.

“I needed to get something.” I bit the bullet and retrieved a small box from my pocket.

Vivian stared at it, her expression stunned. “Dante…”

“When I first proposed to you, it was hardly a proposal,” I said. My blood drummed in my ears. “Our engagement was a merger, the ring a signature. I chose that…” I nodded at the diamond on her finger.

“Specifically because it was cold and impersonal. But now that we’re doing this for real…” I snapped open the box, revealing a dazzling red stone set in gold. One of less than three dozen in existence. “I wanted to give you something more meaningful.”

Vivian released a sharp, audible exhale. Emotion sketched a vivid picture across her features, painting it with a thousand shades of shock, delight, and everything in between.

“Red diamonds are the rarest colored diamonds in existence. Only thirty or so had ever been mined. My grandfather bought one of the first red diamonds in the 1950s and proposed to my grandmother with it. She passed it to my father, who gave it to my mother…” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Who gave it to me.”

The ring blazed like a fallen star against midnight black.

My mother rarely wore it. She was too afraid of losing it during her travels, but she’d kept it safe for the day I needed it. It was one of the few sentimental things she’d done since I was born.

“A family heirloom,” Vivian murmured, her voice thick.

“Yes. One that reminds me very much of you. Beautiful, rare, and difficult as hell to find…but worth every minute it took to get there.” My face softened. “I spent thirty-seven years thinking my perfect match didn’t exist. You proved me wrong in less than one. And even though we didn’t do it right the first time, I’m hoping you’ll give me a chance to prove myself a second time.” My pulse thumped with nerves as the most important question of my life left my mouth. “Vivian Lau, will you marry me?”

Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. A lone drop escaped and streaked down her cheek as she nodded.

“Yes. Yes, of course I’ll marry you.”

Tension dissolved into laughter and sobs and cool, aching relief. I slid the old ring off her finger and replaced it with the new one before kissing her.

Fiercely, passionately, and wholeheartedly.

Sometimes, we needed words to communicate.

Other times, we didn’t need words at all.


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