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“The evidence was manipulated.”

“Was the chicken supposed to be black?” Elenore asked.

Daniel looked offended. “That happened once.”

“That day?” Harrison asked.

“Everyone criticizing the man willing to feed them.”

Aura’s voice reached us from behind him. “Bliss calls it legacy so nobody hurts your feelings, Papa Dan.”

Daniel turned as Aura approached with Easton. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am on your side. I’ll bravely eat whatever the professional chef cooks in your honor.”

Harrison laughed as Daniel pointed toward her. “That attitude is exactly why you fit in with my children.”

Elenore shook her head, but whatever I might’ve added disappeared when Charm stepped onto the terrace.

The green satin dress followed every change fifteen months had put between us. It wrapped around fuller breasts, skimmed her stomach, and narrowed at her waist before surrendering to hips and an ass that nearly wiped every useful thought from my head. Charm had always been beautiful, even when she chased perfection until every natural curve disappeared and my hands met bone where softness belonged. At the time, I believed it was vanity sharpened by anxiety—the same impossible standard she applied to every part of her life. I knew it was excessive. I didn’t know it was an illness or what she did when nobody was there to see it. Back then, wearing something this fitted would’ve consumed her before she entered the room. She would’ve pulled at the fabric, watched every woman for comparison, and searched my face until I reassured her enough to survive being seen.

I’d spent the last hour trying to prepare myself to see her again.

Preparation was useless.

Charm spotted me beside the bar, and her smile changed. It didn’t disappear or become uncertain. It softened around the edges, holding vodka, mezcal, and the fragile truce we’d created downstairs in trembling hands.

This Charm already knew she looked good.

The confidence wasn’t loud or performed. She wasn’t dressed for a room full of people to convince her she was beautiful. She had chosen the dress because she knew exactly what it did to her body and walked into the attention without apologizing for attracting it. Her shoulders remained relaxed, her chin lifted, and when my gaze dropped over every curve she’d once been terrified to possess, she didn’t cover herself or glance away.

She watched me look.

The subtle satisfaction curving her mouth told me she’d dressed to pull attention and knew whose she wanted most. Fucking hell, she had it. My obsession with her ass had survived fifteen months, several states, and enough meaningless women to establish that some problems were apparently permanent. Only now, there was more of it to worship—and Charm finally looked like she knew she deserved every filthy thought crossing my mind.

Elenore followed my attention and touched my arm. “She looks beautiful.”

“It’s natural with her.”

No one remarked on how quickly I answered.

Charm stopped to hug Daniel before Harrison and Elenore gathered her between them. They asked about the boutique, Bliss’s gown, and the theater department with the sincere interest of people who understood how much those accomplishments mattered. Charm answered without minimizing any of them.

Elenore held both of her hands and looked over her dress. “Did you make this too?”

“I did.”

“You’ll have to stop making everything you wear unless you’re prepared to accept orders.”

“I accept orders. My invoices simply cause heart palpitations.”

“That sounds like Harrison’s business model,” Daniel said.

“It pays for your golf losses,” Harrison replied.

Charm laughed and turned her head. Her eyes found me again, lingering long enough to tell me the first look hadn’t been accidental.

I allowed mine to travel over her just as openly.