Page 129 of Gilded Locks
Maybe they were all correct on some level.
But after months of running and narrowly escaping a life sentence in a padded cell, it was hard to believe anyone would want her, let alone love her as deeply and completely as Hunter, Stone, and Ash.
While some people waited their entire life to find a single good man, she’d managed to fall in love with not one, but three gorgeously generous, doting—often demanding—men. Despite their rough edges, at their core, they were all honorable and kind.
And tonight, they were officially marking her as their own, a commitment she’d requested, and a gift they couldn’t resist granting. She was not just theirs. They were hers, and she wanted to make that claim for all the world to see.
Knowing dinner wasn’t for a few hours, Marigold drew a bath and grabbed a novel from the nightstand. She sank into the tub with a sigh that bordered on ecstasy. The water was perfect, hot enough to melt the tension from her muscles, and scented enough to make her feel like a goddess. When her eyes got heavy, she set the book aside and floated peacefully.
This was what security felt like—not just physical safety, but emotional sanctuary. A place where she could explore desires she’d never dared acknowledge, with men who would push her boundaries while keeping her absolutely safe.
When the water had cooled, she finally emerged, wrapping herself in a soft towel. In the mirror, her reflection held a radiant glow—relaxed, like a woman who’d finally found her place in the world.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. “Come in,” she called, as she combed through her damp curls.
Ash entered, carrying what appeared to be a jewelry box. His eyes tracked over her towel-wrapped form with evident appreciation, but there was something deeper in his stare—possession mixed with reverence.
“I hope you don’t mind the intrusion,” he said, taking her comb and setting it on the vanity. “But we have something for you.”
“What is it?”
“Open it and see.” He handed her the small package, and she lifted the lid.
Inside the box, nestled on black velvet, was the most beautiful necklace she’d ever seen. Not gaudy or ostentatious, but elegant in a way that spoke of old money and older power. The centerpiece was a pendant, chiseled with raw diamonds.
“Is it a bear paw?” The piece sparkled and gleamed as she turned it in the soft glowing light.
“The Volkov family crest,” Ash confirmed. “Worn by women who have given their hearts to Volkov men, dating back centuries before you or I ever existed.”
Like her, Ash had once been an outsider looking in. This wasn’t just jewelry. It was another claim. A public declaration of ownership that would mark her as theirs to anyone who understood the significance.
“Ash, it’s beautiful.”
“May I?”
She nodded, lifting her hair as he fastened the necklace around her throat. The pendant settled tight around her throat, a collar, warm against her skin like a brand.
“Perfect,” he murmured, his hands settling on her shoulders. “It looks good on you, like you were born to wear it.”
In the mirror, she could see how the necklace transformed her. She no longer looked like a refugee who’d stumbled into luxury. She looked like she belonged here. Like this life, this room, these men were always meant to be hers.
“How do you feel about tonight?” Ash asked softly.
“Scared,” she admitted. “Excited. Like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff.”
“Are you getting cold feet?”
She met his eyes in the mirror, seeing patience and desire and something that could only be love. “No,” she whispered. “I want this more than words can say.” Her finger brushed over the diamond-crusted pendant. “I’m yours.”
“I ty moya. Nasha.” And you are mine. “Ours.” His smile was radiant.
Before she could respond, there was another knock then Stone let himself in, impeccably dressed in a dark suit. “Dinner’s ready,” he announced, then stopped short when he saw the necklace, tracing an adoring finger from the pendant to her exposed collar bone, he gave her that predatory grin. “It suits you perfectly, Zayka.”
“Thank you.” She touched the pendant self-consciously. “For everything. The room, the clothes, the…”
“The chance to spoil you properly?” Stone finished with a smile. “Marigold, we’ve been over this?—”
“I’m not complaining.”
