Chapter 488

Chapter 487:

“We should name her Aurora,” Jocelyn murmured, half-asleep, her cheek against Gaston’s chest. “If it’s a girl p>

Gaston’s hand moved slowly down her spine, possessive and purposeful. “If it’s a boy,” he said, “his name will be yours to choose. And then we will try again, until we have a daughter who is just as beautiful as her mother p>

Jocelyn laughed, the sound warm and muffled against his skin. “You have it all planned out, don’t you p>

“I have everything planned out,” Gaston agreed. “But this—” He pressed a kiss to her hair. “This is the only part that matters p>

Outside, the universe staged its most spectacular performance. Inside, they began.

The VIP room at New York City Hall was smaller than Carmen had expected. More utilitarian. Less ceremonial.

She sat in a hard plastic chair wearing a white Chanel suit she had bought specifically for this occasion, staring at the document the lawyer had placed before her. The paper was thick and expensive, covered in dense legal text that seemed to swim before her eyes.

Justin sat beside her — he had insisted on beside rather than across — his knee occasionally brushing hers, his hand resting on the table close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his skin.

“Take your time,” the lawyer said. He was a Collins family retainer; she understood that. His loyalty was absolute and absolutely not to her. “The terms are quite favorable to Ms. Golden. Senator Collins has waived all standard prenuptial protections. Fifty percent of his personal assets will transfer to the marital estate upon signature. In the event of dissolution, you would retain p>

“I don’t care about the money,” Carmen said. Her voice was flat. She flipped to the final page, found the line marked with a small red tab, and signed her name with the pen the lawyer provided. Carmen Golden. The letters looked foreign, as though they belonged to someone else.

𝖨n𝘴𝗍𝗮𝗇𝘵 𝘢cс𝗲ss 𝗈𝗻

Justin signed next. His signature was bold and confident, the stroke of a man who had never once doubted his right to claim what he wanted.

The ceremony took four minutes. A city official read the standard language about commitment and partnership. They both said “I do.” Justin produced rings — platinum bands, simple, elegant, sized perfectly — and slid one onto her finger while she stood motionless, unable to move, unable to protest. He then picked up the second ring, took her unresisting hand in his, and used her own fingers to guide it onto his. The gesture was proprietary, a final sealing of the contract, as though she were a marionette completing a motion he had choreographed long ago.

Then it was done. The official pronounced them married. Justin kissed her — a brief press of lips that was somehow more intimate than anything they had shared in ten days of cohabitation.

“Congratulations,” the lawyer said. “Senator. Mrs. Collins p>

The title struck Carmen like a physical blow. She felt her knees weaken and felt Justin’s hand steady her at the elbow.