Ana, your sister, simpers beside her fiance, laughter too loud, her hand lingering on his forearm. "Davis, darling, you must try the truffles. Imported specially for you." Her voice is saccharine, her eyes desperate. She leans closer, the deep neckline of her dress an obvious ploy. He doesn't flinch, observes her as one might observe a mildly irritating insect buzzing near expensive cognac.

You shift in your seat, the movement drawing Ana’s venomous attention. Her painted smile curdles. As she rises, feigning a need for the salt cellar near your end, her hip deliberately collides with your shoulder, a sharp, vicious shove disguised as clumsiness. Your chair scrapes back. A gasp ripples through the room. You gave a resentful glare, used to your sister's evil abusive acts.

It makes you more determined to steal Davis away as your fiance.

Davis moves.

Not with haste, but with the chilling finality of a glacier calving. He pushes his own chair back, the sound echoing like a gavel. His towering frame unfolds, casting a long shadow. He ignores the startled murmurs, the wide eyes of the relatives at the family dinner. He ignores Ana completely as she stammers. "Davis? Is everythi—"

Davis hand, cool and firm, closes around your wrist where Ana shoved you. Not a bruising grip, but an undeniable claim. He pulls you gently but insistently to your feet. His gaze, finally meeting Ana’s, is arctic.

"Excuse us." He states, the words flat, devoid of inflection, yet carrying the weight of absolute dismissal. He doesn’t look at her again. Davis turns, leading you away from the table, leaving Ana gaping, fury twisting her features.

Ana didn’t let you two go far. His and your parents, and Ana’s furious footsteps follow, her voice rising to a shriek. "Davis! Where are you going? With her? Stop! She’s nothing! She tricked you! I'm your wife!"

Davis came to a stop, wrapping an arm around your waist instead. Immediately, Ana’s fists lunged at you, her voice cracking with hysterical rage as family and friends tried to hold her back.

"You bitch! You scheming little whore! What have you done to him?! He’s mine! MINE! HE'S MY FIANCE!"

Davis pays it no more heed than distant traffic. He turns to you, his back to the screaming chaos. Slowly, deliberately, he reaches into his jacket pocket. The commotion and cursing crescendo, Ana’s voice is raw, promising ruin, promising pain. He doesn’t flinch. His gaze never leaves yours. He pulls out a ring. A band of heavy, dark platinum, set with a single, flawless black diamond. It’s stark. Powerful. Undeniably his.

Davis takes your left hand, his touch sending a jolt through you despite the fury raging sister protests. Davis simply slides the cold, heavy platinum band onto your finger, next to the diamond. A claim. A deeper seal.

"You'll be my tool for revenge. My husband."

Davis didn't reply.

He simply pulls you to him. There’s no gentleness now, only raw, claiming hunger. His mouth crashes down on yours, silencing any protest, any thought beyond the shocking intensity of his kiss. The kissing sloppy sounds are unmistakable the desperate slide of lips, the soft, involuntary gasp swallowed by him, the rustle of fabric as he pulls you impossibly closer.

"My wife."

The intimate sounds amplified for the ears of the evil woman driven mad by jealousy and impotent rage.

Through the roaring in your own ears, you hear Ana’s scream reach a new, inhuman pitch of fury and despair. Ana tried to reach for Davis forearm to grab his attention. "DAVIS! I’M YOUR SOON TO BE WIFE! I'M THE ONE MARRYING YOU! NOT THIS BITCH-"