Page 92 of Made for Reign

Her eyes search mine. “Did you mean it? Really mean it? That we could just...leave? Start fresh somewhere else?”

“Every word,” I say without hesitation. “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”

She takes a deep breath, her next words coming out in a rush.

“I want that. After Ben’s fight, I’m going to tell Gio it’s over. I want you to take me away from all of this.”

I freeze, not sure I’ve heard her correctly. Despite all our planning, all our whispered promises, I never truly believed she’d make such a clean break. I expected negotiation, compromise, a gradual separation from her family and their expectations.

I sit up, pulling her with me, needing to see her face clearly.

“But what about Worthington Sports? Everything you’ve been worried about losing?”

“None of it matters without my freedom,” she says simply. “Without you. I’ve spent my whole life being what everyone else needed me to be. I want to be mine now. Yours.”

Something fierce and possessive roars to life inside me. My hands frame her face, thumbs brushing her cheekbones.

“Do you have any idea what you’re offering me?” I press my forehead against hers, overwhelmed by what she’s saying. “A future. A real one.”

“So, where should we go?” she asks, her fingers trailing along my jaw. “Where can we disappear to where Lucille and Gio won’t find us?”

“Montana,” I say, the word falling from my lips before I’ve fully formed the thought. “My dad’s place.”

Her eyes widen. “Your dad? I didn’t know you had family in Montana.”

“Had,” I correct gently. “He passed away three years ago. Left me the property. About two hundred acres outside a town called Whitefish. Mountains, forest, a lake. The house needs work, but it’s solid. Private.”

“You never mentioned it before,” she says, curiosity evident in her voice.

I run a hand through my hair, memories surfacing that I’ve kept buried for years. “We weren’t close. He left when I was ten. Military man, career first, family second. Or maybe third.”

Her hand finds mine, squeezing gently. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Ancient history now.” I lace our fingers together. “We reconnected a few years before he died. Not enough to fix everything, but enough for him to want me to have the land. Said it had been in our family for generations. Said it was a place where a man could breathe.”

I can picture it so clearly. Audrey there, painting the Montana sunset from the wide porch, her hair catching the light like fire. Her easel set up by the lake, capturing the mountains reflected in still water. Building something together that’s ours, not borrowed or inherited or acquired.

“It sounds perfect,” she whispers.

“After Ben’s fight,” I confirm, sealing the promise with a kiss to her palm. “Then you tell Vega it’s over, and we disappear. I’ll have everything ready.”

She nods, resolution hardening her expression. “One more week of pretending. I can do that.”

“And then no more pretending. Ever.” I pull her back against my chest, holding her close. “Just us.”

TWENTY

AUDREY

The emerald silkslides over my skin like water, the fabric catching the afternoon light streaming through my bedroom windows. I turn in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting the neckline, smoothing the skirt.

The stylist knew what she was doing when she picked this dress. The color makes my skin glow, and the cut flatters every curve. Perfect for tonight's investor reception. Perfect for Gio's fiancée.

Perfect for a woman who I won't be after tomorrow.

My reflection stares back at me, and I practice the smile I'll need to wear all evening. Polite. Interested. Grateful to be here. All the things a good Worthington daughter should be when she's standing beside the man who saved her family's business.

Tomorrow, I'll never have to wear that smile again.

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