Page 116 of Forbidden Billionaire
I can’t speak. I can only nod.
He pulls back a little to grab his phone.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice shaky.
“Getting you out of that maid’s uniform once and for all.”
His fingers move quickly over the screen. A beat later, he holds it up so I can read the message:
To: Rafe Sterling
Seraphina quits. She belongs to me now.
I laugh through a choked sound that might be a sob. He grins, smug and certain and somehow still sweet. And then he takes my hand and leads me from the closet.
Vionna is waiting for us when we reach the lobby. In the car, Xavier settles beside me like he’s always belonged there. He doesn’t hesitate. Just takes my left hand in his, laces our fingers together, and lifts them slightly as Vionna glances at us through the rearview mirror.
“Vionna,” he says. “Say hello to the future Mrs. Blackwell.”
I flush instantly, the weight of those words landing right in the center of my chest. My cheeks burn. My lips part.
“Congratulations!” Vionna beams. “I knew you were the one from the moment I met you, ma’am.”
Oh, God.
I glance at Xavier, wide-eyed. He just lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it like we’re in some kind of royal court. I shake my head, stunned and giddy.
And instead of turning toward the Sterling Uptown, he gives Vionna a different address.
River Oaks.
My heart skips. “You’re not going back to the hotel?”
“No more hiding.” He shrugs. “If the paparazzi want to wait, let them. I have nothing more to hide.”
The car glides down leafy streets lined with gated mansions, until we pull up to a modern estate behind high hedges and iron gates. The house is all sleek stone and glass, glowing from within.
“Xavier…”
“Welcome home, Seraphina.”
Inside, I’m struck silent. The ceilings are cathedral-high, the walls hung with modern art, the furnishings minimalist and gorgeous. It’s not just a home. It’s a fortress of wealth and taste and power.
He watches me absorb it all, his expression unreadable. “We can sort out an office or a private space for you. Whatever you want. If you want to redecorate, that’s fine. But for now…” His voice lowers. Darkens. “We have to make this engagement official.”
He disappears into the kitchen and comes back with a bottle of champagne. Even though I’m no connoisseur like he is, I recognize the iconic label.
And—
He has actual flutes.
“Real glasses.” I laugh.
“Unlike someone I know.” He pops the cork with a satisfying sound.
He pours and hands me a glass.
“To the woman who saved me.”
