Chapter 7: The Date and the Wedding Rings

Audrey's POV

"Hubby, where are we going?" I decided to break the silence hanging between us.

"Madison Avenue, number 46." Milos wore sunglasses that concealed his expression completely.

His driving was remarkably smooth—even in a sports car, I didn't feel the slightest bit of nausea.

God knows how many times in college I'd ridden in boys' cars where they'd just show off, racing and swerving until I'd stumble out of the backseat and vomit on the curb. Those were not pleasant memories.

I remembered something from a book I'd read during pharmacy school when I needed to relax my brain—it mentioned that to make a man happy, you could praise him on small details. Right now, silent Milos didn't seem particularly happy.

"Cool!" I expressed my surprise. "Milos, your driving is so steady. I've never met a man who doesn't cut people off, take shortcuts, or curse while driving like you do."

"You're a civilized driver."

Milos's mouth twitched, though it didn't quite look like a smile. "So baby, are you trying to tell me a joke?"

"Oh, no, I'm seriously complimenting you."

I racked my brain trying to come up with more detailed praise, but then I heard Milos laugh. When I turned to look at him, the curve lifting the corner of his mouth made me smile too.

Soon enough, we arrived at Madison Avenue. The design-forward doors of number 46 swung open, and a man in a suit emerged, placing his hand over his chest and bowing respectfully. "Mr. Milos, welcome to LA. I'll be serving you today."

When he raised his head and saw me, his pupils constricted sharply and his expression turned troubled. His professional composure, however, allowed him to quickly recover and greet me respectfully. "Miss Anderson, it's been a while."

Long-dormant memories in my mind suddenly rebooted—this LA design director was named Henry, and just last month, I'd caused a huge scene here because of Milos and his friends, even calling Henry their lapdog and insisting he address me by my surname.

Thinking about how I'd taken my anger out on someone uninvolved made me feel guilty. "Henry, you can call me Audrey."

Henry looked at me in surprise for several seconds, probably thinking I was pretending to be some princess playing at being approachable with common folk. He simply smiled without responding and led us inside.

The lounge was decorated with elegant nobility—silk draperies with fringes adorned with rice-sized freshwater pearls, one wall displaying expensive wines and spirits, another transformed into a jewelry showcase featuring only three sets of pieces that combined both beauty and astronomical prices.

Milos ordered some pastries and tea. He knew my preferences intimately—that I loved red tea with milk, that it needed exactly half a sugar cube, and that tiramisu was my preferred accompaniment.

"Henry, please bring up all the jewelry pieces I asked your boss to set aside. I need to confirm whether my wife likes them."

I asked Milos curiously, "What jewelry?"

"Nothing much, just some trinkets."

I suspected Milos was joking. LA jewelry was high-end exclusive—they only accepted custom orders, and each set cost no less than a million dollars.

Henry pushed the door open again, followed by formally dressed attendants wearing white gloves, each cradling a small safe.

"Miss, please enjoy. This set features peacock malachite from the Congo, cut in a highly challenging triangular shape and set with crushed diamonds that have also been polished..." Henry introduced each piece seriously. There were six sets of jewelry in total, one made from expensive emerald jade worth a fortune.

"Do you like them?" Milos asked me. "If you do, take them all home. There will be many galas in the future where you'll need to wear them."

These six sets of jewelry were worth nearly three hundred million dollars. I knew Milos was wealthy, but that was in the future—right now, with the Bush family fractured, his uncles were constantly undermining him in their fight for the family fortune. Milos could use this cash to expand into more markets.

"I don't want them." I pushed away the emerald set before me, my attitude firm.

Milos's smile faded and he clenched his fists. "Why not? Don't you want our wedding gift?"

"It's not that. I just don't want to spend so much of your money—you need it. As for a wedding gift... I think we can solve this another way."

I asked Henry for paper and pen, and the nib made scratching sounds against the page. For a moment, the only sounds in the lounge were the pen's friction and the sweet scent of cake drifting to my nose.

The lounge door burst open just as I set down my pen and looked up toward the entrance.

"Whoo!" The man's hair was slicked back with pomade. He was handsome and charming, with the rakish air of someone who seduced supermodels when he smiled. "Milos, my good brother, why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

His name was Thomas Taylor. LA was one of his properties—not the most profitable, but it connected him with the wives and gentlemen of high society's political circles.

"This is Miss Anderson? I didn't expect you'd grace us with your presence."

Thomas spoke with his characteristic cheekiness.

I didn't respond. I knew he was standing up for Milos—after all, last time I'd cost him dearly, and he'd been too considerate of Milos to punish me for it.

But Milos frowned. "Thomas, she's my wife. You should respect her."

"What?!" Thomas was clearly shocked. He stepped back twice, his gaze bouncing between Milos and me before he finally managed, "That's impossible!"

I shook my head at this unpredictable man and waved Henry closer. "This is the pair of rings I designed—mine and Milos's wedding rings. They use sapphire as the primary material with platinum bands, and there's a little Möbius strip design element incorporated."

I explained the ring design in detail while Thomas leaned in curiously.

When I finished, Henry was already addressing me as "Miss Audrey, you have such a gift for design. I guarantee that if any ladies see these rings, they'll want matching pairs."

I smiled. "Then please keep it confidential, Henry. I designed this especially for Milos—it's our wedding gift."

"Of course, I won't leak it." Henry promised solemnly.

Thomas clapped Milos on the shoulder. "Hey, brother, you actually won Audrey over?"

Milos's mouth curved upward. "We're truly in love."

"Come on, friend. Last month Audrey's fiancé was still Daniel, and this month she's in love with you?"

Milos shot Thomas a cold glare, and he covered his mouth, blinking innocently.

I saw all of this. Using my spoon, I scooped up a small piece of tiramisu and brought it to Milos's lips.

"Darling, try this flavor. I think you'll like it."

"Hey! Audrey! Milos doesn't like sweets—"

Thomas's motion to stop me froze because his good brother Milos had already obediently eaten it.

"What's wrong, Thomas?" I looked at him innocently, not missing his shocked and suspicious expression.

He looked left and right, then covered his forehead with a groan.

"My God, are you showing off your relationship in front of me? I'm not some dog that needs to eat dog food!"