Chapter 21 Twenty one

Chapter 21 Twenty one
REINA’S POV

The next few days passed in a quiet blur of anticipation. Orion was busier than usual. He spent long hours at the office, got hushed phone calls he stepped away to take, quick glances at his phone when he thought I wasn’t looking. He didn’t say anything about it, but I could feel the shift. Something was building and he was doing a great job hiding it from me.

I didn’t push. I liked watching him plan in secret, the way his jaw softened when he caught me looking at him, the way he kissed me longer each night before retreating to another cold shower. I loved teasing him, loved the way his control frayed every time I wore one of his shirts or brushed against him in the hallway. But I also loved the waiting. The satisfying feeling of knowing he wanted me as badly as I wanted him.

Thursday morning my phone rang while I was feeding Bessie on the terrace. The caller ID read “Gran.”

I answered with a smile. “Good morning!”

“Reina, darling,” Gran’s voice came through warm and brisk. “I need you at the house today. We have things to discuss. Wedding things.”

My heart gave a quick, happy thud. “Wedding things?”

“Orion has been in touch. He’s moving faster than I expected, which means we need to move faster too. Come over after lunch. Dress comfortably. We’ll be doing some shopping.”

I glanced toward the terrace doors where Orion had disappeared into his office earlier. “He didn’t tell me.”

“That’s because he wants to surprise you. Let him have his secrets. I’ll have the driver pick you up at one.”

I hung up, stomach fluttering. Bessie bleated at me like she knew something exciting was happening. I scratched behind her ears and whispered, “We’re getting married, girl. For real this time.”

The car arrived promptly at one. Gran’s house looked even more beautiful in the afternoon light, the stone facade glowing gold, the oaks whispering overhead. She met me on the porch in a cream linen dress, silver hair swept into an elegant twist, eyes bright with purpose.

She hugged me tightly. “Come in, come in. We have a lot to cover.”

Inside, the dining room table had been cleared and covered with wedding magazines, fabric swatches, and a thick binder labeled “Blackwood Estate Events.” Gran poured tea and sat across from me.

“First,” she said, “Orion wants this soon. Two weeks if possible, four at the latest. He’s already spoken to the venue. It will be in the garden here at the house, under the old oaks. It is very intimate and perfect for spring.”

I nodded,my throat tight. “It sounds beautiful.”

“It will be. Now, the dress. I’ve called in a designer from Paris. She’ll come next week for measurements and sketches. But today is about you. What do you want, Reina? Not what society expects. What do you dream of?”

I thought for a moment. “Simple. Elegant. Something I can move in. I don’t want to feel like I’m wearing a costume. And flowers—lots of wildflowers. Like the ones that grow along the fence back home.”

Gran’s eyes softened. “We can do that. Wildflowers in abundance. Now, the harder part.”

She reached for my hand.

“I adore you, Reina. You’ve brought life back into this family. But you’re stepping into a world that can be cruel if you don’t know its rules. High society is full of small knives: smiles that cut, comments that sting. As Orion’s wife, as the future matriarch of the Blackwood name, you’ll be watched and judged. So, I want you protected.”

I swallowed. “I’ve never been good at pretending.”

“You won’t have to pretend. You’ll simply learn the language. I’ve arranged etiquette classes: private, with the best instructor in the city. Posture, conversation, dining, hosting. Nothing drastic. Just enough to make you untouchable.”

I felt a flicker of nerves. “Will Orion mind?”

“He insisted on it. He wants you armed, not changed.”

I exhaled. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

Gran squeezed my hand. “Good girl. Classes start tomorrow morning, here at the house. Now about shopping, We need shoes, jewelry, undergarments that won’t show lines under silk. And something for the honeymoon. Orion hasn’t told me where he’s taking you, but I suspect somewhere private.”

We spent the afternoon in the city’s most exclusive boutiques. Gran was ruthless in the best way. She is direct and decisive. She never let salespeople push anything that didn’t suit me. We found heels that made my legs look endless, delicate lingerie in ivory lace that made me blush when I tried it on, a set of pearl earrings that Gran insisted were “quiet power.”

By the time we finished, the trunk of the car was full of boxes. Gran hugged me again before I left.

“You’re going to be magnificent,” she said. “And Orion knows it.”

I went home feeling lighter, stronger, and more nervous than ever.

ORION’S POV

I had called the jeweler two days earlier. A private appointment at his atelier on Fifth Avenue. No showroom browsing. I knew what I wanted: a single emerald-cut diamond, flawless, set in platinum with two smaller stones flanking it. It was simple, elegant and unbreakable like her.

The jeweler had it ready when I arrived. He placed the ring on black velvet. It caught every light in the room and threw it back sharply.

“It's perfect,” I said.

I paid without blinking and slipped the box into my pocket. It felt heavier than it should have.

That afternoon I sat in my office staring at merger documents I wasn’t reading. My mind was on the way she had pushed me against the fridge that morning, whispered she loved kissing me, left me hard and desperate in under thirty seconds. On the way she had curled against me every night since, torturing me with sleepy grinds and soft sighs.

I wanted her so badly it hurt.

But I wanted forever more.

I opened my calendar and marked dates. Two weeks. The garden at Gran’s. Small guest list. Vows under the oaks. Then a private island for two weeks of no phones, no meetings, no interruptions. Just us.

My phone buzzed. Gran.

“She’s perfect,” she said when I answered. “We spent the day shopping. Etiquette classes start tomorrow. She agreed without hesitation.”

I exhaled. “Thank you.”

“She’s nervous, Orion. But she’s brave. Don’t make her wait too long.”

“I won’t.”

Gran laughed softly. “I’ve already booked the florist and the string quartet. Two weeks from Saturday. Don’t be late.”

I hung up and stared at the ring box in my desk drawer.

Two weeks.

I could survive two more weeks.

Then she would be mine.

Completely.

And I would spend every day after proving I was hers.