Chapter 50
AMELIA
“Frankie, the wallpaper!” I turn just in time to see the roll bouncing from the ladder she’s standing on.
“Son of a bitch!” she yelps, losing her balance as she scrambles to catch it, but it hits the floor with a thud.
The entire strip already placed on the wall comes loose, and as she reaches out, the ladder wobbles beneath her. For a second, I’m sure she’s going to fall, so I abandon the pillows I’m arranging on the couch.
“Be careful!” I shout, rushing towards her just as she manages to steady herself, one hand clutching the ladder, the other gripping the air.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she insists, even though her face is flushed and her breathing is erratic. Slowly, she climbs down from the ladder and when she reaches the ground, she glares at the wallpaper roll like it’s a real person, and gives it a kick, crossing her arms.
I can’t help but laugh as I take in the scene.
“Hey, whose side are you on? Me or the wallpaper?”
“At this point, the wallpaper is winning, so I’d say the wallpaper.”
“Fair.”
We both laugh, and I walk over to help her straighten the wallpaper, smoothing it back into place as best as we can. It’s only going on one wall as a statement piece, so that’s a plus. It’s not perfect, but somehow that makes it better—more genuine, more like a home.
If you had told me at the beginning of the school year that I’d be decorating an entire mansion leading up to the last semester ending, I would’ve laughed. If you’d told me I’d have an unlimited budget to do so, I’d probably think you belonged in some kind of mental institution. Because, what ?!
And the best part is, I get to do it with my best friend. At the beginning of the year, that would’ve been Skye, a girl who probably had ill intentions towards me from the beginning. But no, I have a new, real friendship that I know is going to last through every up and down, every season, every big milestone in life.
Frankie is stuck with me whether she likes it or not. But I have a feeling she’d be just fine with that.
“I love all these designs. I may get you to redo my room,” she says, smoothing down her skirt that flipped up.
She’s keeping her original bedroom here at John’s house, and Asher is moving into it with her too. Right now we’re decorating the master suite that takes up the entire middle floor. We saved it for last, and I love how the rest of the house turned out. It needed it—some areas were so old and neglected, you’d think it was the set of one of those old war movies.
“What? I love the way your room looks! The stuffed animals are everything.”
“Yeah, but maybe it’s time for something more grown up.”
“If that’s what you really want. But Frankie, I love that sometimes you’re a little… childish. And I don’t mean that offensively, I mean that in the best way possible.”
“Really? I thought it was kinda, maybe, annoying sometimes.”
“Absolutely not. You’re fun and lively, and you may be a brat here and there, but it’s the best thing ever. I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
“Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
The heartfelt moment hangs between us, warm and comforting, until Frankie breaks the silence with a mischievous grin. “So, about that rug…”
I groan. “We are not changing the rug again!”
“I swear, just one more time!”
Before I can retort, the door to the living room swings open, and there’s Blade, eating up the space between us and the entrance. I swear his long legs allow him to cover distances too quickly.
“Hey, angel,” he says, his voice like a low rumble that always seems to find its way straight to my heart.
And then I remember.
I gasp and spin around to face him. “Oh my God! You can’t see this yet!” I rush over to him, covering his eyes with one hand as I push at his solid chest with the other. Wow, it’s firmer than I remember. Those five a.m. workout sessions are doing him some good.
Focus!
“Amelia, it’s just a room—”
“Out!” I manage to shove him back into the hallway, the door to the suite closing behind us with a soft click.
From the other side, Frankie’s voice carries through, laced with her usual sass. “Yeah, and don’t come back until you learn some patience!”
“Hey, I’m telling Asher you just cussed me out!” he calls back.
I shake my head, smiling at their banter. They always have a way of teasing each other, like brother and sister, and I love seeing them interact that way. They’re the most important people in my life, along with my mom, of course.
As we walk down the hallway so I can make sure he makes it down from this level completely, his jacket rides up and I catch sight of something on his lower forearm. A flash of ink that wasn’t there before.
“What’s that?” I ask, stopping in my tracks and pulling his arm closer to get a better look.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “It was supposed to be a surprise. It’s not done yet, the guy got called away for an emergency.”
He pulls up his sleeve further, revealing the fresh tattoo—a beautiful, intricate design, my name entwined with angel wings and under it: my angel, my salvation.
I’m stunned, my breath catching as I trace the lines of the piece with my finger, careful not to touch the healing skin. “It’s… it’s beautiful. I don’t even know what to say.”
A tattoo is forever. It’s forever for him.
“Well, since one surprise is spoiled, might as well give you the other that goes along with it,” he says, reaching into his pocket.
I watch, my heart pounding, as he pulls out a small velvet box and flips it open. Inside is the most beautiful pink diamond ring I’ve ever seen, catching the light in a way that makes it seem almost unreal.
“Oh my god, Aiden,” I breathe, overwhelmed by the sight of it. He gently lifts the ring from the box, turning it over to reveal an inscription on the inside: my devil , for eternity
“I don’t even want to ask how much this cost.” I laugh through my tears, the combination of emotions bubbling over.
He grins. “Yeah, it’s best you don’t.” Then, with a chuckle, he adds, “I was thinking about knocking you out and giving you a tattoo while you were under to match mine, but I decided on this instead.”
I can’t tell whether he’s joking or serious—but knowing him, he probably at least considered it. “Well, I’m glad you chose this instead.”
He slips the ring onto my finger, and it fits perfectly, just like everything between us.
I want to remember this moment forever, carve it into my memory like a scar. These are the moments we’ll one day tell our children about.
“It’s a little tight.” I fumble with the ring.
“Because I used a mold of your finger. Meaning to take it off you have to get it professionally removed. Except only one ring shop in town has the screwdriver for it and they’re not going to take it off for you.”
“What?!”
“So it’s as permanent as my tattoo, baby. I told you it was this or a tattoo.”
“When did you even get a mold of my—you know what, I’m not even going to ask.” I shake my head. I should be used to his antics by now.
“And also…” He clears his throat, and I squint my eyes suspiciously. Whenever he clears his throat, he’s about to say something way out of left field, the craziest thing I’ve ever heard, and he’ll say it so casually.
“I want you to drop out of school and live here full-time now.”
And there it is.
“I won’t be at the other mansion, and no one will be there to watch you anymore.” He takes my hand in his.
“And how will I support myself without a degree if this—” I gesture between the two of us. “—doesn’t work out and you leave me?”
“I’ll sign one of the casinos over to you right now. It’s worth two hundred million. You can sell it whenever you want.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m serious. But that’s just an offer to ease your mind.” He grabs a fistful of my hair, angling my head back to roughly kiss me. Against my lips, he mutters, “Because make no mistake, I’m never leaving you. Per sempre .”
The kiss is dizzying. There’s a hunger in the way his lips move against mine, trying to prove a point. It’s more than just a kiss—it’s a promise, a desperate need, a silent vow that no matter what happens, we’re endgame for each other.
I’ve been learning a little Italian here and there, and I think I know what he said. Forever .
He rests his head against mine when we pull apart. “Besides, either way, you don’t have to worry about finances. Your floral dress collection launches next spring. By this time next year, Amelia Moretti will be a household name in the fashion world, and you’ll have your own income. Big income.”
“Amelia Moretti? And what if I want you to take my last name instead?”
“Then I’ll take your last name.”
I was joking, but he’s dead serious. “Just like that?”
“Just like that. For you, at least.”
“Why do you always do that? Give in to whatever I want without even a second thought? No matter how ridiculous?”
“Because my favorite thing in the world is seeing you happy, baby. If it’ll put a smile on your face for me to take your last name, I’ll take your last name. It’s that simple.”
“Aiden Ellis… Hm, I kinda like the sound of that.”
“I like the sound of it too. Because it signifies that I’m yours just as much as you are mine.”