Page 49 of Solomon’s Temple

“You’d do that?”

“Absolutely. You becoming my wife is a compromise for you, so I have no problem with returning the favor.”

She smiled. “You’re going to make a great husband.”

“I plan to.” I brushed her hair out of her face. “Let’s get some sleep. We've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Okay.” She stood, and I followed, going around the villa, making sure it was secured, shutting down the lights, then saw her to her room.

“Good night, my love.”

“Good night.”

I kissed her lips, then headed to my room. I didn’t expect the night to turn into this, but I wasn’t mad at it at all.

After my shower, I knelt beside the bed, talked to my Homie for a good forty minutes, then got in bed with a smile on my face, knowing that I knocked down one of my biggest goals, and praying that I continued to knock down plenty more.

The Next Morning

I’d been up since six this morning just staring at the ceiling. It had finally settled in that my world was about to change. Me. The foster child who didn’t believe in fairy tales or happily-ever-afters felt like I was about to live out the very dream most girls prayed for.

My mind played tug-of-war for over an hour. I felt like I didn’t deserve this because I’d shut off the idea of being somebody’s forever.

Someone’s peace instead of their problem.

Nonetheless, Solomon had gotten to me somehow. Maybe it was his energy, his story, his entrepreneur mindset, or the BDE he exuded without even trying. Whatever it was, I was now drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

Only, I was the flame, the one that could burn his world to the ground with just the slightest sign of disloyalty.

I wouldn’t lie and say I wasn’t a little scared. Solomon needed someone to help him along his journey, and I feared I might set him back.

I didn’t fib when I told him I wanted to be his refuge.

His safe space.

The woman who supplied all his needs because he deserved it. If I was the woman he chose to become his helpmate, then I’d do all I could to make him proud to call me Mrs. Matthews.

The soft taps on the door made me sit up in bed. I looked at the clock, and it read 8:13 a.m.

“Come in,” I called out. The door opened, and I expected to see a caramel-kissed god, but instead, four women stepped inside. One dropped flowers on the floor, the other carried towels with a bathrobe, another carried a tray with breakfast, and the other carried a violin. I looked on in wonderment just as the violinist played the acoustic version of Jagged Edge’s “I Gotta Be.”

“Good morning, Miss Newman. My name is Lirah. We are here at Mr. Matthews' request. He has instructed us to give you a grand experience on your special day. While you eat, we will get your bath set up, then take you down to the great room where the glam squad is set up for you.”

I was gagged.

Flabber-fucking-ghasted.

No way was this happening to me. I had to be living on another planet, in somebody else’s life—in another freaking realm.

When I agreed to marry Solomon, I just thought we’d get hitched, then have a real wedding later on as we planned. I was not prepared for him to make this feel like the real thing.

“Um-wh-where is Mr. Matthews?”

“He stepped out for the day, but he promised to meet you at the altar at three o’clock sharp. So, we must get a move on,” she said, smiling at me.

“Oh, yeah, okay.”

“Would you like to eat your breakfast in bed or on the terrace?” the one holding my food asked.