Page 55 of Claimed By A Blue Eyed Menace

Emotions swirled inside me—shock, gratitude, disbelief. I pressed a hand to my chest, suddenly overwhelmed. “You… you really did this for me?”

Shooter smirked. “Told you before—whatever you want, all you gotta do is ask nicely.”

Before I could even process it fully, the moment shifted. Shooter dropped down on one knee. My heart stopped. Gasps and whistles filled the air as he pulled a velvet box from his pocket and flipped it open. Inside sat a massive pear-shaped diamond, gleaming under the morning sun. It wasn’t just the ring, though. It was the way he looked at me.

His voice was low, raw. “Parker… I appreciate you. And even though we started this shit as business, I want it to be more. I want us to be partners, baby—in love, life, and loyalty. For real this time.”

Tears pricked my eyes. I glanced over at my father and Seth, two men who had once seen this marriage as nothing but a power move. Now, they both looked proud. Honored. Shooter’s grip on the box tightened slightly, his intense gaze locked onto mine. “This ain’t about business no more,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “This is about us. So…” He smirked slightly. “You can have me if you ask nicely.”

That inside joke hit me hard. I let out a watery laugh, wiping my tears before giving him a slow, teasing smirk. “Ask nicely.”

His voice was deeper, rougher, as he said, “Nah but Parker Alizé Whitmore… will you marry a nigga for real this time?”

I squealed—actually squealed—and nodded. “Yes! Yes!”

Shooter didn’t waste a second. He slid the ring onto my finger, then stood, sweeping me up into his arms as he kissed me deeply. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he murmured against my lips.

I laughed, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I wouldn’t even try. You’d find me.”

As soon as the ring was on my finger and Shooter lifted me in his arms, my girls lost their damn minds. “Oh my GOD!” Mecca screeched, practically bouncing on her heels. “Bitch, that ring is everything! I love it!”

Retia fanned herself dramatically. “I told y’all this would eventually happen! This some forever shit.”

Kalea was grinning, hands on her hips. “So, uh… your homeboys got rich brothers or cousins or somethin’? ‘Cause—”

Shooter smirked and I rolled my eyes, but before I could respond, my father stepped forward. Everything quieted just a little. He looked at me first, then turned his gaze to Shooter. “You love my daughter?” His voice was calm, steady, but there was weight behind it.

Shooter didn’t hesitate. “I do.”

My father studied him for a long moment before nodding once. “Good. I guess all this shit worked out for the greater good.” Then, to my shock, he pulled Shooter in for a dap and a brief, firm hug. When he pulled back, he turned to me. “Parker, I know what I said before about you wanting to run your own business, but I’m proud of you. I hope you can forgive me for how this all started. It was never personal, baby, just business.”

I swallowed, emotions thick in my throat. “And although I don’t agree with it, I’m kinda glad it happened. I’ve really never been more sure of anything in my life. I’m good with Shooter. I’m happy.”

My father nodded slowly, eyes glistening with something deep—pride, love, maybe a little acceptance. Then he sighed, shaking his head with a small chuckle. “Well, hell… looks like I just gained a son for real.”

Seth, who had been quietly observing in his wheelchair, finally spoke. “Yeah, Parker, you aight with me.” He nodded and I gave a light smile back.

The tension broke, and suddenly, everyone was laughing again. That’s when I turned to my girls, tossing my hands up. “Alright, which one of y’all is gonna be my maid of honor?” Chaos erupted.

“I BEEN here since day one!” Mecca shouted. “It gotta be me!”

Kalea scoffed. “Girl, bye! You wasn’t even likin’ Shooter at first. If anyone deserves it, I do!”

Retia held up a hand. “Excuse me? I was the only one tellin’ Parker to stop fightin’ her feelings! Where’s my credit?”

I rolled my eyes as they started arguing for real, but deep down, my heart felt so full. As we all stepped inside the commercial space, my girls immediately started going crazy with ideas. Mecca was already snapping pictures. “Oh, this space is perfect! We could put the register over here, put some mannequins by the front window—”

“Parker, we have to do a whole aesthetic layout,” Retia added, eyes gleaming. “Like, imagine sleek black fixtures, some gold accents, and soft-ass lights to give it that luxury boutique feel.”

Kalea was walking around, arms crossed, deep in thought. “And we need a whole separate dressin’ room section, a vibe-y ass mirror setup for try-ons, and a little lounge area with complimentary drinks, ‘cause baby, we sellin’ an experience.”

I grinned, shaking my head at their enthusiasm. “Y’all done turned my store into a whole empire in five minutes.”

“Duh, bitch.” Mecca smirked. “You think we gonna let you do this shit basic?”

I laughed, but my heart swelled at how invested they were. Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Seth and my father were deep in conversation, their voices low, their expressions serious. I knew that look. They were talking business.

I looped my arm through Shooter’s, leaning into his side as I nodded toward them. “What happened to your dad? Why is he in a wheelchair?”

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