Page 80 of Ruthless Bonds

“I thought we’d have dinner.” I pulled her hand to my mouth, kissing her knuckles.

“At the Metropolitan Museum of Art? I didn’t think they did that here.”

“They do for me. For us. Come.” We walked up the steps to meet the curator.

He greeted us with a nod, a smile on his face. “Welcome to the Met, Mr. Zokrov, Mrs. Zokrova. The museum is yours and yours only tonight. Right this way.” He waved his hand, and we followed behind him.

She buzzed with anticipation as we walked through the grand entrance. The place was breathtaking, with a warm glow emanating from the twinkling lights and reflecting off the polished marble floors. We passed through the Greek and Roman galleries, Alora squeezing my hand as we stood in front of a statue.

“Aphrodite.” The curator waved his hand. “The goddess of beauty and love. Irresistible to all, even the gods.” He gave us a knowing look, leading us onward.

“Like you,” I whispered in her ear, biting down softly. She gasped, smacking me playfully on my chest.

We spent some time walking around, Alora fascinated by every piece of art. Dove had mentioned it had been Alora’s favorite place when they were younger. It was one of the few places they’d been unable to sneak into, so Alora would save up so she could take her siblings there.

The European Paintings gallery held masterpieces she fawned over, particularly the pieces by Monet and Van Gogh. Although I appreciated the rare and beautiful pieces in the gallery, in my eyes, Alora was the rarest and most exquisite beauty here.

We continued until we reached the American Wing, where dinner was set up in the Charles EngelhardCourt. The room was filled with classical sculptures and nineteenth-century stained glass. In the center of the room was a dining table, flowers and twinkling lights surrounding the space. A harpist off to the side began to play a sweet tune.

I led Alora to her seat and pulled out her chair. A sommelier stood by, waiting to serve us. Alora leaned forward, her eyes bright with happiness.

“This is insanity. How did you know I would love this?”

“Dove may have helped me out a bit.” I’d converted one of the empty rooms near Alora’s darkroom into a tattoo area so that Dove could practice. It was Gavriil’s idea. According to him, if we kept Dove happy, Alora would stay happy as well. Truthfully, though, I thought he was smitten by the little bird. Ever since I’d shown Dove the room, she was more than willing to give me clues about how to break down the walls around Alora’s heart.

“Oh, great, both of you are going to be ganging up on me now?” She chuckled, taking a sip of her wine. An odd look passed over her face briefly, and then it was gone.

“What is it,kotic?” I leaned forward, placing my hand on hers.

“Nothing, I just… that just made me think about Dylan and Dove ganging up on me when they were kids. I just…” Her voice trailed off, a hint of worry in her tone. “I haven’t heard from Dylan. You haven’t done anything to him, have you?”

My jaw ticked, but I shook my head no. He was lucky I was willing to show him mercy because of Alora. If he had been anyone else, he would have been six feetunder by now. “No, I promised you I wouldn’t, and I always keep my promises. Do you want me to find him for you?”

Her eyes widened and she quickly shook her head. I chuckled, nodding at the chef as he approached the table with the first course.

Dinner was a seven-course affair. Alora paled at the thought of eating oysters, but after a bit, she begged for more. She refused to try the foie gras, but loved the lobster and saffron risotto. Our main course was wagyu beef tenderloins, during which I sat her in my lap and fed the delicate pieces to her. She melted into me, moaning around the fork with each bite. If the harpist hadn’t been in the corner playing, I would have shoved up her dress and fucked her right in the middle of the room. But I knew I needed to control myself. Alora deserved a memorable evening.

Following dessert, the curator met us for the night’s last event. My heart raced. I wasn’t sure of how she would react. We walked into a small side gallery, and Alora gasped, her hands flying to cover her mouth.

The room was filled with carefully curated photographs, elegantly framed and displayed. They blended seamlessly with the museum’s classic architecture, looking like part of an official exhibit. Yet again, Dove had helped me pick out Alora’s favorite pieces.

“It’s just for tonight,kotic. Your work belongs among these great masterpieces.”

She turned to me, her eyes glistening, and threw her arms around my neck. “I’m at a loss for words,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “This night has been absolutely magical, Kreos. I don’t even knowwhat to say except thank you.”

I lifted her chin up with my fingers, staring deeply into her eyes. “You don’t have to thank me,kotic. I’m your husband. And you are my queen. My goddess. My sole purpose for existing is to make sure you smile like this every single day.”

She weaved her fingers into my hair, her lips crashing into mine. I wanted her to be as obsessed with me as I was with her. And tonight, I’d definitely evened the playing field. Soon she would know how deeply I cared for her, how everything I did from now on was for her and our future family. She was my everything.

My possession.

My obsession.

Not even death would keep us apart.

We spent the next half hour admiring each piece in her collection. The biggest photo was of her with Jameson and their mother. The photo captured a moment of pure joy and love.

Alora blamed herself for his death, but there was something she didn’t know. Gavriil had done some digging and Alora’s story wasn’t adding up. Someone was covering something up. The question was, who?

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