Chapter 35 #2
Some had family with them—parents, siblings, partners who'd never stopped looking. The joy on their faces mixed with lingering trauma in a way I recognized intimately.
"Marie!" Sophia spotted me first and came running over, her dark hair flying behind her. She crashed into me in a hug that nearly knocked me over, and I hugged her back just as fiercely.
"You made it," I said into her hair, my throat tight. "You're really here."
"We all are." She pulled back, tears in her eyes. "We're all free, Marie. We're free."
The word broke something open in my chest, and suddenly I was crying too, and then other girls were surrounding us, all of us holding each other, crying and laughing because we'd made it. We'd survived.
Wade's hand found the small of my bare back, grounding and steady, and I felt him standing right behind me, a solid, protective presence while I had this moment.
"I'm going to get drinks," he murmured against my ear. “Take your time with them, I'm right here if you need me."
I nodded, unable to speak around the emotion clogging my throat, and felt his lips press briefly to my hair before he stepped away.
The next hour was a blur of reunions, tears, and laughter.
Stories shared, trauma acknowledged, and hope tentatively voiced.
Some of the girls had family members hovering nearby—fathers who couldn't quite let their daughters out of sight yet, mothers who kept touching them like they needed to confirm they were real.
I understood it completely.
The staff working the party moved efficiently around us, mostly people in their twenties and thirties, hired to bartend, serve food, and keep things running smoothly. Professional, polite, and completely focused on their jobs.
I was dancing with the girls when I felt the warm, solid presence at my back. Hands settled on my hips, possessive and sure. The familiar scent of Wade's cologne mixed with salt air.
I melted back into him automatically, still moving to the music, and felt his chest press against my bare back. His hands tightened on my hips, thumbs stroking small circles on the exposed skin where my dress ended.
"Having fun?" he murmured against my ear, his breath hot.
"So much," I breathed, tilting my head back against his shoulder so I could see his face. "Thank you for making this happen."
"Anything for you, darling." His hands slid from my hips to my stomach, pulling me closer, and I felt every inch of him pressed against me.
We swayed together, his body moving with mine, and I was hyper-aware of his hands on my skin, his thumb occasionally dipping down my hips, teasing. His lips found my neck between songs, kissing and pressing gently enough not to leave marks but firmly enough that I felt it everywhere.
One of the male waitstaff passed nearby carrying a tray of drinks, his eyes flicking to us briefly before moving on.
Wade's hands tightened immediately, pulling me impossibly closer, one hand splaying wide across my stomach while the other slid up to rest just below my breasts.
It was possessive, claiming, making it absolutely clear who I belonged to.
"Daddy," I breathed, my head falling back against his shoulder.
"Mine," he murmured against my neck, his voice dark with possession. "Every man here can look all they want, but you're mine."
Heat flooded through me at the raw claim in his voice. "Yours," I agreed breathlessly.
His hand slid higher, cupping my breast through the thin fabric of my dress. We were technically hidden by the crowd of dancers and the dim lighting, but anyone looking closely would see exactly what he was doing.
"Wade?”
"Shh." His thumb brushed over my nipple, making it peak instantly. "Just reminding you who your daddy is.”
Another waiter passed, an older man, maybe fifty, carrying empty plates back toward the kitchen area. His eyes didn't even stray toward us.
Wade's hand stayed exactly where it was anyway.
"You're insane," I whispered, but I was pressing back into him, encouraging his touch despite my words.
"About you?" His lips licked over my ear, making me shiver. "Absolutely."
We danced like that for another song, his hands never quite crossing into completely inappropriate but definitely toeing the line. I was hyperaware of every place we touched, every breath, every small movement of his hips against mine.
By the time the song ended, I was flushed and breathing hard, ready to drag him back to the estate immediately.
"I need water," I managed, turning in his arms to face him. His eyes were dark, heated, and his hands found my bare back, pulling me against him.
"I'll get it." He pressed a hard kiss to my lips. "Don't move, and don't let anyone else get too close while I'm gone."
He was already walking toward the bar, and I watched him go, Hawaiian shirt and all, unable to believe this possessive, slightly crazy man was mine.
I headed toward the food table, still flushed and distracted, my skin tingling everywhere he'd touched. The dumplings we’d made were mostly gone, with only a few left on the original plate.
Then I noticed another plate.
Sitting at the far end of the table, partially hidden behind a bowl of fruit. More dumplings, but these looked... different. Slightly deflated. Like they'd been sitting out for a while.
My stomach rumbled—I'd been too busy dancing and crying and reuniting to eat anything yet.
I glanced around. The party was in full swing, and no one was paying attention to the food table. The dumplings were probably fine. I'd eaten stuff that had been sitting out way longer than this growing up on the island.
I picked up a dumpling and popped it in my mouth.
It was cold, a little chewy, but not terrible. I reached for another.
"Marie."
I froze, the dumpling halfway to my mouth, and turned to find Wade standing there with two glasses of water and absolute horror written across his face.
"What are you doing?" he asked slowly, carefully, like I was holding a live grenade.
"Eating a dumpling?" I said innocently, even though I knew exactly where this was going.
His eyes flicked to the plate, then back to my face. "How long has that been sitting out?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. A few hours, maybe?"
"A few hours?" His voice pitched higher, and he quickly set down the water glasses. "Marie, it's been ninety degrees today. You cannot eat food that's been sitting in that heat—"
"I'm an island girl.” I waved off his concern with my free hand. "Food doesn't go bad.”
"That is not how it works.” He reached for the dumpling in my hand. "Give me that right now."
"No!" I pulled it away, laughing at his genuinely distressed expression. "It's fine! I already ate one, and I'm perfectly—"
"You already ate one?" He looked like I'd just told him I'd licked the beach sand. "Marie, you could get serious food poisoning. Do you have any idea—"
"I'm not going to get—" I dodged his reaching hands, holding the dumpling protectively against my chest. "Wade, stop it, you're being ridiculous—"
"I am being safe." He moved closer, backing me against the table. "You are being reckless. Give me the dumpling, darling."
"It's a perfectly good dumpling! I'm not wasting—"
He lunged, and I did the only logical thing.
I shoved the entire dumpling into my mouth and started chewing as fast as I could, my eyes watering slightly from trying to chew and not laugh at the same time.
Wade froze mid-reach, staring at me with my mouth completely stuffed full, and I stared back at him. This powerful, sophisticated billionaire in his flamingo shirt looked absolutely scandalized by my behavior.
"Did you just—" He looked between me and the now-empty plate, then back to my chewing cheeks. "Marie. Did you seriously just shove that entire thing in your mouth to prevent me from taking it?"
I nodded vigorously, still chewing, trying desperately not to laugh because that would mean choking.
Wade let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-groan. He shook his head, looking at me with an expression that was so full of affection it almost made me feel bad.
"You are unbelievable," he murmured, stepping into my space. "My stubborn, reckless darling.”
I finally managed to swallow, grinning up at him. "Too late. It's in my tummy now."
"Is that right?"
Before I could react, he snagged my wrist, firm enough to let me know he wasn't done with me.
"Come here.” His voice was low and teasing.
He pulled me away from the table, guiding me just a few feet into the shadows of a large palm tree, still close to the party, but hidden from direct view.
"Wade?" I laughed breathlessly as he spun me around.
He pressed his chest to my back, trapping me gently against the tree trunk. "Do you think it's funny to stress your Daddy?"
“A little," I admitted, leaning back into him.
"Mmm." His hand slid down my back, over the curve of my ass. "You know what daddy does when you act like a brat about your health?"
"Lectures me?"
"Sometimes." His hand flexed on my hip. "And sometimes, he has to remind you to listen."
My breath hitched as his hand moved, landing a sharp, playful swat to my bottom.
Smack.
“Daddy!” I gasped, jumping a little, though it didn't really hurt. It just stung, a rush of heat that went straight to my core.
"That's for eating garbage," he murmured against my ear, sounding amused.
Smack.
He swatted the other cheek, harder this time, a solid clap of sound that made me whimper.
"That's for ignoring me."
"I wasn't ignoring you!" I argued, though I was melting against the tree.
Smack.
A third swat, right in the center, firm and authoritative.
"And that," he growled playfully, biting the sensitive skin of my neck, "is for shoving it in your mouth while staring me in the eye. You really are a brat sometimes, aren't you?"
"Only for you," I whispered, trembling.
He groaned, his hands molding my stinging ass, squeezing the soft flesh and rubbing in the sting. "God, you drive me crazy. I'm trying to keep you alive, and you're turning me on."
"I'm multitasking," I teased.
He laughed against my neck, turning me in his arms so he could kiss me properly. "Keep eating suspicious food, darling, and I'll take you over my knee in front of everyone. Don't test me."
"You wouldn't."
"Try me." He kissed me hard and deep. "Now, let's go dance before I decide to drag you home and finish this."
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing close. "Later," I whispered, my lips brushing his ear. "After the party, you can show me exactly how worried you are about me.”
His hands tightened. "That's not fair."
"All's fair in love and dumplings, daddy."
He laughed and pulled me toward the dancing area. “Now, before you eat something else that's been fermenting in the sun."
"It wasn't fermenting—"
"It was fermenting."
We argued playfully as we moved into the crowd of dancers, the torches flickering around us, the music pulsing. His hands never left my body—sometimes on my hips, sometimes spanning my back, sometimes sliding dangerously low on my ass when he thought the shadows hid us enough.
Sometimes he gave me a warning squeeze that made my breath catch.
Every time a male passed nearby, his hold tightened. Every time someone's eyes lingered on my exposed legs or low back, he pulled me closer. Claiming and possessive, and completely unapologetic about it.
And I loved it. I loved feeling wanted, protected, and cherished. Loved that this powerful man in his flamingo shirt had eyes only for me despite being surrounded by beautiful women, delicious food, and tropical paradise.
"I love you," I breathed against his neck as we swayed together.
His arms tightened around me immediately. "I love you too, darling. My beautiful, brave, dumpling-eating girl."
I laughed and held him closer, the sound of waves, music, and happy voices surrounding us, the warm island night enveloping us like a blessing.
This was happiness. Real, tangible, hard-won happiness, and I was never, ever letting it go.