Six months later.
The grand ballroom of the *Waldorf Astoria* shimmered under the glow of crystal chandeliers, the air thick with the hum of conversation, clinking glasses, and the soft strains of a string quartet. Mira adjusted the diamond cufflinks on Theo’s tuxedo, her fingers lingering against the crisp fabric of his shirt.
“You’re staring,” he murmured, his voice low, amused.
Mira smirked. “I’m admiring my handiwork.”
Theo caught her wrist, bringing her palm to his lips. “You’re lucky I let you dress me at all.”
“Let me?” Mira arched a brow. “Darling, you *begged* me to pick out your tie.”
Theo’s dark eyes gleamed. “And you chose the one that matches your dress.”
Mira glanced down at the deep emerald silk clinging to her curves, the same shade as the tie knotted at Theo’s throat. “A coincidence.”
“Mmm.” Theo’s hand slid around her waist, pulling her against him. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”
Mira laughed, the sound light, carefree—something she never thought she’d feel again. Not after everything. But now? Now, she was *herself* again. Whole. Happy.
And Theo?
Theo was *hers*.
The engagement ring on her finger caught the light as she reached up to straighten his collar. A three-carat oval diamond, set in platinum, simple and elegant—just like the man who had slipped it onto her finger six weeks ago, on a private beach in the Maldives, with nothing but the sound of waves and the promise of forever between them.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Theo murmured, his thumb brushing her cheek.
Mira leaned into his touch. “Just remembering.”
Theo’s expression softened. “The Maldives?”
She nodded. “I was just thinking about how different this all feels now.”
Theo’s fingers tightened around hers. “Different how?”
Mira exhaled, her gaze drifting over the crowd—wealthy socialites, powerful CEOs, politicians. The same world that had once felt like a gilded cage. “Before, I was always looking over my shoulder. Waiting for the next disaster. The next scandal. The next *him*.”
Theo’s jaw tightened at the mention of Daniel Reeves, the man who had tried to destroy them both. The man who was now rotting in a prison cell, his empire in ruins, his name a cautionary tale.
“But now?” Theo prompted.
Mira smiled. “Now, I’m just looking at *you*.”
Theo’s breath hitched. Then, without warning, he pulled her into a secluded alcove, away from prying eyes. His hands framed her face, his thumbs brushing her lower lip. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
Mira’s pulse spiked. “I have *some* idea.”
Theo’s lips crashed down on hers, hot and demanding. Mira melted into him, her hands fisting in his jacket as she kissed him back with equal fervor. Six months, and the fire between them hadn’t dimmed—if anything, it had burned brighter.
When they finally broke apart, both breathless, Theo rested his forehead against hers. “We should get back before someone notices we’re missing.”
Mira smirked. “Let them talk.”
Theo chuckled, low and dark. “Oh, they will. But I don’t give a damn.” His hand slid down to her waist, his fingers tracing the curve of her hip. “Especially not when I have you.”
Mira’s breath hitched as his touch sent a jolt of heat straight to her core. “Theo…”
He grinned, knowing exactly what he was doing to her. “Yes, *future Mrs. Sterling*?”
Mira’s stomach flipped at the title. *Future Mrs. Sterling.* It still didn’t feel real. But then again, neither did the fact that she was standing here, in love, in *public*, with the man who had once been nothing more than a fantasy.
A man who had fought for her.
A man who had *chosen* her.
Mira rose onto her toes, brushing her lips against his ear. “Take me home.”
Theo’s grip on her waist tightened. “We just got here.”
Mira nipped at his earlobe, her voice a whisper. “I don’t care.”
Theo groaned, his forehead dropping to her shoulder. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
Mira laughed, low and sultry. “But what a way to go.”
---
### **The Coatroom**
The *Waldorf Astoria*’s coatroom was empty when they slipped inside, the heavy velvet curtain falling shut behind them. The air was cooler here, the scent of leather and perfume lingering in the dim light.
Theo backed Mira against the wall, his hands sliding up her thighs, bunching the silk of her dress around her hips. “You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this,” he growled.
Mira’s breath came in short gasps as his fingers traced the lace edge of her stockings. “Imagined *what*?”
Theo’s lips brushed her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse point. “You. Me. *Here.*”
Mira’s head fell back against the wall as his hand slipped between her thighs, his fingers teasing her through the thin fabric of her panties. “Theo—”
“Shh.” His voice was rough, commanding. “No one can hear us.”
Mira bit her lip as his fingers slid beneath the lace, finding her already wet, already *aching* for him. “Oh *God*—”
Theo’s mouth crashed down on hers, swallowing her moan as his fingers worked her, slow and deliberate. Mira’s hands tangled in his hair, her hips rocking against his touch, desperate for more.
“Fuck, you’re *dripping*,” Theo groaned against her lips. “Is this what you wanted? To be *ruined* in the same place we met?”
Mira whimpered as his thumb circled her clit, his fingers thrusting inside her. “Y-yes—”
Theo’s free hand gripped her thigh, lifting it around his waist as he pressed her harder against the wall. “You’re *mine*, Mira. Say it.”
Mira’s vision blurred as pleasure coiled tight in her belly. “I’m *yours*—”
Theo’s fingers moved faster, his thumb pressing down on her clit, and Mira shattered, her cry muffled against his shoulder as she came apart in his arms.
Theo didn’t let her recover. Before the last tremor had even faded, he was unbuckling his belt, freeing his cock with a low groan. Mira’s eyes locked onto him, her breath hitching at the sight of him—thick, hard, *ready*.
“Condom—” she gasped.
Theo shook his head, his voice rough. “I’m clean. And I want to feel *you*.”
Mira’s heart pounded. They’d talked about this—about trust, about the future. About *everything*.
And she *wanted* this.
She wanted *him*.
Mira nodded, her fingers trembling as she reached for him. “Then *fuck me*.”
Theo growled, lifting her against the wall, his cock pressing against her entrance. Mira wrapped her legs around his waist, her nails digging into his shoulders as he thrust inside her in one smooth, deep stroke.
“Fuck—” Theo’s head fell back, his breath ragged. “You feel *incredible*.”
Mira couldn’t speak. She could only *feel*—the stretch of him inside her, the way his hips snapped against hers, the way his mouth claimed hers in a searing kiss.
Theo set a brutal pace, his hands gripping her ass, his cock driving into her again and again. Mira’s back arched, her moans filling the small space as pleasure coiled tight in her belly once more.
“Come for me,” Theo demanded, his voice rough. “I want to feel you *squeeze* my cock.”
Mira’s nails raked down his back as she obeyed, her body trembling as she came again, her walls clenching around him. Theo groaned, his thrusts turning erratic before he buried himself deep, his release spilling inside her with a low, guttural curse.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. Mira’s forehead rested against Theo’s shoulder, her breath coming in short gasps as she tried to remember how to *breathe*.
Theo finally pulled back, his hands cradling her face as he pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “You’re *perfect*.”
Mira smiled, her heart full. “So are you.”
Theo helped her straighten her dress, his fingers lingering on the diamond ring on her finger. “Ready to go back out there?”
Mira smirked. “Only if you promise to do that again later.”
Theo’s laugh was dark, promising. “Oh, *future Mrs. Sterling*, I *guarantee* it.”
---
### **The Future**
The penthouse was quiet when they returned, the city lights twinkling beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. Mira kicked off her heels, sighing as she sank onto the plush sofa.
Theo poured them each a glass of champagne, handing one to her. “To us.”
Mira clinked her glass against his, taking a sip. “To *forever*.”
Theo set his glass down, pulling her into his lap. “Forever sounds *perfect*.”
Mira smiled, her fingers tracing the stubble along his jaw. “It does, doesn’t it?”
Theo’s hand slid up her thigh, his touch possessive. “You know what else sounds perfect?”
Mira arched a brow. “What?”
“A *wedding*.”
Mira’s breath hitched. “Theo—”
Theo’s fingers tightened on her hip. “I don’t want to wait. I want you to be *mine* in every way possible.”
Mira’s heart swelled. “I *am* yours.”
Theo’s lips brushed hers, soft and sweet. “Then marry me. *Again.*”
Mira laughed, her eyes shining. “You’re *insatiable*.”
Theo grinned. “Only for you.”
Mira kissed him, slow and deep, her hands tangling in his hair. When she pulled back, her smile was soft. “Yes.”
Theo’s breath caught. “Yes?”
Mira nodded. “Yes. Let’s get married. *Again.*”
Theo’s lips crashed down on hers, his kiss fierce, possessive. Mira melted into him, her heart full, her future *bright*.
This wasn’t just a beginning.
It was *forever*.
**THE END.**