Page 81 of Lords of Ruin: Owned

My excitement dims slightly at the thought of Ricardo hovering around, but I can’t exactly blame them. I’ve gotten used to their overprotectiveness, even if it grates on my nerves sometimes.

“Fine,” I say with an exaggerated sigh, knowing this is as much of a compromise as I’m going to get. “Ricardo can stay. But he’s not allowed to comment on my outfit.”

“Deal,” Vincent says, and Cast chuckles, shaking his head as if this entire exchange is a game he’s already won.

As Vincent shuts the car door behind me and slides into the driver’s seat, I feel a flicker of something rare and precious.

It’s not just the excitement of prom or the thought of wearing a beautiful dress.

It’s the way they look at me, the way they go out of their way to give me pieces of normalcy when the rest of my life feels anything but.

It’s almost enough to make me forget the weight of RISD and the secret I’m carrying.

Almost.

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The boutique they bring me to is straight out of a dream—floor-to-ceiling mirrors, racks upon racks of gowns in every color imaginable, and the faint scent of lavender lingering in the air. It’s overwhelming in the best way.

“Pick whatever you want,” Vincent says, his tone casual, like we’re talking about grabbing a coffee and not shopping for a prom dress.

“No budget,” Cast adds with a widening grin. “And no excuses. We’re here until you find the perfect one.”

I blink at them, unsure how to respond. “This is too much.”

Vincent arches a brow. “Too much is kind of our thing. Now, go.”

Despite my hesitation, I’m drawn to the racks, fingers grazing the soft fabrics as I take in the endless options. Vincent and Cast are surprisingly patient, lounging on one of the plush couches while I disappear into the dressing room with an armful of gowns.

The first dress is a soft blush pink with a flowing skirt, but it doesn’t feel quite right. The second is a bold red, dramatic and eye-catching, but not me. By the time I try on the fifth dress, frustration starts to creep in.

“This is hopeless,” I mutter, stepping out of the dressing room in a simple navy gown. “Maybe I should just skip prom.”

Vincent stands, shaking his head. “Not an option.” He gestures toward the racks. “We’ll keep looking.”

“Try this,” Cast says, appearing beside me with a dress in hand. It’s different from the others I’ve chosen—a deep emerald green with intricate beading along the bodice and a skirt that shimmers faintly in the light.

I hesitate but take it from him, retreating to the dressing room once more. As I slip into the dress, the luxurious fabric hugs my body perfectly. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I can’t help but pause. The color brings out the warmth in my skin, and the delicate beading glitters faintly with every move.

Before I can step out to show them, the door opens behind me. I turn, startled, to see Vincent slipping inside the small space.

“What are you doing?” I whisper.

Vincent’s smirk is firmly in place, but his gaze sweeps over me, darkening. “Couldn’t wait,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “Wanted to see you first.”

Heat floods my cheeks as his eyes travel the length of the dress, lingering where the fabric clings to my curves. His hand lifts, knuckles brushing lightly over my shoulder. “You’re stunning, Willow. Absolutely breathtaking.”

I swallow hard, my heart racing at the intensity in his eyes. “Vincent, this isn’t?—”

He cuts me off, his fingers tilting my chin upward. “Relax, Princess. Just admiring the view.”

Before I can respond, the door opens again, and Cast steps in. His green eyes narrow as he takes in the scene. “Am I interrupting?”

Vincent doesn’t move, his hand still resting lightly on my chin. “Not at all,” he says smoothly, his tone laced with challenge.

Cast’s gaze flicks to me, softening briefly before he turns his attention back to Vincent. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Not when she looks like this,” Vincent replies, his smirk deepening.

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