Chapter Fifty-two
Abigail-Ann
“You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you.”
~ Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice.
M y phone buzzed with an email, and I clicked it. The subject line made my breath hitch: Congratulations! My heart pounded as I read the words glowing on the screen. I’d been accepted into my year-and-a-half apprenticeship, starting in three months. A thrilled laugh escaped me as I quickly texted Mikkel, my parents, and Azzaria. Years of late nights, doubts, and dreaming had finally paid off.
Sliding my phone back into my pocket, a deep breath calmed the flutter in my chest as focus shifted to the task at hand. The stacks of books on the counter wouldn’t shelve themselves, and the murmurs of a few customers near the thriller and mystery section already reached my ears. Work first, celebration later.
The morning passed in a blur of book recommendations and helping customers find their next favorite read. Before I knew it, my shift was over, and it was time to meet Azzaria for her first wedding dress fitting at Vivienne Westwood.
Stepping into the boutique, I was immediately struck by its elegance. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over plush carpets, and racks of luxurious gowns awaited their brides.
“Abi!” Azzaria’s voice rang out, filled with excitement. She looked beautiful, her baby bump now a soft curve beneath her dress.
“You look amazing!” I said, hugging her gently. “Ready to find the perfect dress?”
She beamed. “Absolutely. This is so surreal. I’m nervous.”
The designer, Cara, a poised British woman with short black curls, approached with a warm smile. “Welcome, ladies. Shall we get started?”
She led us into a private fitting room, where twenty dresses—each sketched by Nina Moretti in Italy—were displayed. “We’ll go through these to find the styles that suit you best,” Cara explained, scrolling through designs on her tablet.
Azzaria’s eyes widened. “When Dillon said there were dresses waiting, I didn’t expect twenty,” she muttered, a hint of irritation in her voice.
I squeezed her arm. “Breathe, Azzy. Dillon just wants the best for you.”
“I know, but twenty ?”
Cara stepped in with a reassuring smile. “This process is about finding the dress that speaks to you. The one that makes you feel unstoppable. Your groom just wants everything to be perfect and stress-free for you.”
Azzaria sighed and spent the next forty-five minutes sorting the sketches into three piles— no way, maybe, and definite yes .
Cara’s eyes lit up as she took the final selections. “These are perfect. We’ll have the dresses sent over for your fitting.”
Azzaria’s eyes sparkled with tears. “Thank you, Cara. Also, I have no idea how much more my belly will grow. I’m carrying twins.”
“Mr. Xander mentioned that. We’ll take care of the alterations. ”
Azzaria smiled, touched by Dillon’s thoughtfulness.
“You’re going to be the most beautiful bride,” I whispered, my throat tight with emotion. “It’s such an honor to be your maid of honor.”
Azzaria turned, her smile radiant. “I couldn’t imagine anyone else by my side.”
We hugged carefully before she went to change. When she returned, we chatted, her hand tenderly caressing her tiny bump.
“How are the other parts of wedding planning going?”
“It’s been a lot, but it’s good,” she shared. “The wedding is going to be magical. I wanted to do it all myself, but pregnancy is kicking my ass, so Dillon hired Celeste Gray.”
I raised my eyebrows in disbelief, leaning forward. “Celeste Gray that designed and planned the Livingston wedding?”
Azzy laughed, nodding. “I was just as shocked too, but Dillon will not be stopped. Once he gets an idea in his head, there’s no turning back. I think he’s secretly enjoying all this wedding stuff more than I am!”
Her smile was soft, but you could tell there was an undercurrent of excitement.
“Your wedding’s gonna be perfect!” I exclaimed, already picturing the romantic setting.
She sighed happily. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy and not really there.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I reassured her. “Life takes us to different places but no matter what, you’re my best friend in every lifetime and that will never change.”
Azzaria’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she leaned over to hug me tightly. “In every lifetime, Abigail.”
Mikkel
After an hour of intense negotiations with Javier Cortez, the deal was sealed—Luxe Transports now belonged to Elite Rides. Another “ competitor” absorbed, another victory secured. As always, Arnoldo had outdone himself, drafting a clause so airtight that any breach would cost them double the sale price. Ruthless. Perfect.
We did the press rounds—photo ops, interviews. The headlines rolled in, the city buzzing with the news, but none of it held my attention. The only thing that mattered was the clock ticking down to Abigail’s doctor’s appointment. I barely let the cameras flash one last time before I was out the door.
She wasn’t sick, but after witnessing how her period drained her—crippling back pain, abdominal cramps, and relentless headaches—I couldn’t just stand by. I urged her to see a gynecologist, hoping she’d find a way to ease the pain. To make her feel safer, I had Ronan’s team vet the top specialists in the country, then brought them into my conference room on her day off, letting her choose.
Back at the office, the day blurred into investor follow-ups, a GQ feature, finalizing year-end hiring, and approving Christmas bonuses. But my mind was elsewhere. Sitting at my desk, I attempted to fold paper roses which was frustrating as hell, but I kept at it.
The moment the clock hit six, I was gone. I made a few stops—fresh flowers, her favorite snacks, and two special gifts.
When I finally reached her apartment, she answered the door in one of my button-downs, my cologne lingering on her skin. Nothing was sexier.
For a second, I just took her in, then dropped everything onto the nearest surface and kissed her like I’d been starving for it. Because I had been.
After what felt like forever, I pulled back just enough to look at her. “How was it?”
She leaned into my chest. “Not as bad as I thought. Dr. Sang was nice.”
“Good.” I brushed my lips against her forehead. “And?”
She exhaled, a hint of relief in her voice. “She gave me options. We’ll see what works.”
I nodded, tension easing from my shoulders. “You tell me the second you need anything, okay?”
“I know, Mikkel,” she teased, her grin playful as her eyes roamed over me. “You look so handsome. And thank you for the flowers.”
I lifted a bag of chocolates, a ribbon-tied box, and a bag of Lay’s. “Got you these too.”
Her eyes lit up instantly. “This is perfect! What’s in the box?”
“Open it and see.”
She untied the ribbon, revealing rows of black-and-white chocolate chip cookies from Levain Bakery. “How did you know I wanted these?”
“You’ve mentioned it sometime last week.”
Her eyes softened, a smile on her lips. “You never make me feel unheard,” she said warmly. “I love you even more for that.”
As she set the cookies down, I pulled out another wrapped box. “This is for you.”
Curiosity flickered in her eyes as she unwrapped it, unveiling a custom-made leather portfolio embossed with her full name and a delicate house-and-key design. Beside it lay an engraved keychain reading Home Sweet Home, adorned with a tiny house charm.
“Oh my goodness, this is incredible!” she gasped, tracing the soft leather in awe.
“We’re celebrating all your wins, mi reina 176 ” I said, my heart swelling as I watched her excitement. “I wanted you to have something special for your apprenticeship, a reminder of how far you’ve come, how far you’ll go and how much I believe in you.”
Tears glistened in her eyes as she looked up at me. “I love it!”
I chuckled, pulling her closer. “ Te adoro, Red. 177 ”
I pulled her close again, my lips crashing into hers, deep and desperate. I couldn’t get enough of her. But then, she pulled back with a breathless laugh, her eyes sparkling with something playful.
“You’re gonna get me naked at this rate,” she whispered with a smile, her fingers grazing the back of my neck.
“Is that a bad thing? ”
“No,” she said, a mischievous glint in her gaze. “But I have something to show you first.”
I followed her into the bedroom, curiosity piqued. The first thing I noticed was the massage station, then the spread of tostones, barbecue wings, and croquetas de pollo . But what stopped me in my tracks was the sign on the wall: Estoy muy orgullosa de ti, guapo! 178
My throat tightened as I turned to look at her, the reality of what she’d done hitting me like a ton of steel. I pulled her into me, wrapping her in my arms. “ Gracias, mi amor. ” 179
She cupped my face, her touch gentle. “You never need to thank me,” she said, her voice soft, but sure. “You’re doing amazing things, Mikkel. You work so hard… doing this for you was nothing.”
Her words hit me harder than any success I’d achieved. I couldn’t even respond right away, just pulled her closer and pressed my lips against hers.
She smiled softly, her fingers tracing the edge of my shirt. “Now, let’s get started.”
I sat without argument, letting her hands work into my shoulders, the tension melting away under her touch. My eyes drifted shut as she kneaded at the knots in my neck, the warmth of her hands grounding me in a way nothing else could.
After a while, she leaned down, pressing a kiss behind my ear. “You okay?”
I opened my eyes, reaching for her hand. “Better than ever.”
She smiled. “Good. Now, come with me.”
She led me into the bathroom, nudging me to sit on the edge of the tub. Grabbing the clippers, she sectioned my hair and began trimming with careful precision.
“You’re on a roll,” I murmured, watching her reflection in the mirror as she focused.
She smirked. “Of course I am. You’re my favorite client.”
I chuckled. “ I’m your only client .”
She shot me a playful look. “And that’s the way I like it.”
After finishing my haircut, she dusted off the loose hairs before tilting my chin up. “Stay still,” she instructed, grabbing a trimmer. With gentle strokes, she lined up my beard, smoothing out the edges before moving to my mustache.
I closed my eyes for a moment, enjoying the way her fingers brushed against my skin as she worked.
A few minutes later, she stepped back, admiring her work. “Perfect,” she declared, satisfaction clear in her tone.
I ran a hand over my freshly cut hair, smirking. “You’re getting better at this.”
She rolled her eyes, laughing. “I’ve always been good.”
Chuckling, I dusted the remaining hairs off my shoulders. “I need a shower.”
She met my gaze, something unspoken passing between us. Then, without a word, she took my hand and led me to the shower.
Steam curled around us as I turned on the water. She pulled my shirt over her head, revealing bare skin beneath. My breath caught, but she only held out her hand, waiting.
I stepped in, the hot water cascading over us as I pulled her close. We moved in sync, washing each other in silence, our touches slow and deliberate. The intimacy settled deep, reaching beyond words.
Later, tangled in the sheets, she rested her head on my chest, tracing soft patterns against my skin.
I didn’t need anything else. Everything I’d ever wanted was right here—with her.
“This is one of my favorite parts of our relationship, Red.”
She looked up at me. “What is?”
“Knowing that at the end of each day, no matter how it goes.” I paused, gazing at her with adoration. “I come home to the most beautiful woman who makes me the happiest. ”
Her smile deepened, and she rested her forehead against mine. “And I always will, guapo , 180 ” she whispered.
“You speaking Spanish makes my dick hard.”
She took my hand, guiding it between her legs. “You existing makes my pussy wet. So, we’re even.”
I grinned. I guess we were.
“ Te quiero .” 181
She leaned in closer, her fingers brushing mine. “ Te quiero , to you too.”
“ Te quiero mucho , 182 ” I corrected, stretching the words with a playful grin.
She chuckled, squeezing my hand. “I know. It’s just funnier that way.”
I love this life. I love this woman. And I’d do anything to keep her in it.