Blake’s POV
The limo slowed as the glow of camera flashes bled through the tinted windows, a warning of what waited outside. I shifted my cuff, my fingers smoothing the fabric, more to anchor myself than out of need. Aloe sat beside me, her spine straight, and shoulders set, as if the leather seat beneath her was a throne and this entire night her coronation. She didn’t fidget, didn’t glance at the mirror to fix her hair or check her lipstick. She didn’t need to because she already looked untouchable.
Her hand rested on her lap, still, and poised. Mine hovered close until her fingers brushed against mine, a touch so faint it could have been accidental. But I caught them, refusing to let go, grounding her the same way she steadied me. She didn’t turn, or speak, but I felt a silent pact in
