The morning sun, though bright, felt softer than the previous day's glare, filtering through the suite's drapes with a gentle, golden hue. Remy woke to the delicious weight of Theo's arm around her, the lingering warmth of their intimacy still humming through her. She was Mrs. Moretti. A secret Mrs. Moretti. The thought sent a thrill through her, a private joy that made her smile against Theo's shoulder. It was mid-to-late May, and Las Vegas, the city of endless possibilities, felt like their personal, gilded playground.
Theo stirred, his hand coming up to stroke her hair. "Morning, mia cara," he murmured, his voice a low rumble, thick with sleep and profound contentment. He pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead, a silent affirmation of the vows they'd exchanged.
Remy giggled, a soft, happy sound. "Morning, husband. Or should I say, 'my fiancé Theo, who I am definitely not secretly married to because that would shock his very traditional mother'?"
Theo let out a low groan, a genuine sound of exasperation, but the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement. "Let's stick with 'husband' when no one else is listening, cara. The alternative is a headache I'd rather postpone indefinitely." He tightened his embrace, burying his face in her hair. "Are you really okay with this, Remy? The... deception?"
Remy tilted her head, looking up at him, her blue eyes sparkling with delight. "Are you kidding? It's genius! It's like our own personal, high-stakes improv show. Every time we introduce ourselves, it'll be a little thrill! Plus, think of the practice for my acting career. Very Method. And it's a shared secret, Theo. It's ours. No one else's. That's actually pretty… romantic, in a completely unhinged way."
Theo looked down at her, a profound love shining in his eyes. She truly was remarkable. Most women would balk at the idea of a secret marriage, especially one involving a formidable matriarch and a fabricated engagement. But Remy, with her boundless energy and unique perspective, embraced it as another exhilarating adventure. He felt a deep sense of rightness, a certainty that resonated through every fiber of his being. This woman, his wife, was everything he never knew he needed.
They spent the rest of the day in a luxurious haze. They ordered extravagant room service, ate in bed, and indulged in the sheer, unnecessary opulence of the suite. Theo found himself surprisingly relaxed, his usual vigilance subdued. With the immediate external threat gone, and the devastating "ticking clock" removed from Remy's life, a profound peace settled over him. He watched Remy as she excitedly updated her new "things to do because I have all the time in the world" list, adding ludicrous, long-term goals like "mastering competitive synchronized swimming with a narwhal floatie" and "becoming a professional taste-tester for bizarre artisanal cheeses." Her unbridled joy was a constant affirmation, deepening his love with every shared laugh.
Their physical intimacy, now that they were officially husband and wife, flowed with a new depth and comfort. They moved around each other with an effortless grace, their bodies instinctively finding ways to touch, to linger. Theo would pull her close for a spontaneous kiss in the middle of a sentence, his hand possessively resting on her hip. Remy, emboldened by his adoration, would lean into his touch, her fingers tracing the hard lines of his jaw, her eyes shining with unspoken promises. The sensual connection between them was a constant, warm current, a silent language they now spoke fluently.
As evening approached, painting the Strip in a kaleidoscope of neon and twilight, Theo knew they couldn't linger forever. His family, though they had cleared the path, would expect him to return, eventually. And with the "engagement" now officially happening, his mother would undoubtedly begin her meticulous planning. They needed to move.
"Remy," Theo said, pulling her onto the plush sofa beside him, wrapping an arm around her. Her head rested naturally on his shoulder. "We should start heading east tomorrow. Towards… New York."
Remy looked up, her expression a mix of contentment and curiosity. "New York? Your world?"
Theo nodded, his gaze unwavering. "My world. Our world, now." He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. "My family will expect to meet my fiancée. And begin planning our… wedding." He emphasized the word with a wry, shared glance, a private joke now between husband and wife.
Remy's eyes widened, a mischievous glint returning. "Oh! The grand deception! This is going to be amazing! Think of the possibilities! We can pretend to argue over wedding cake flavors, but secretly be arguing over the merits of deep-fried Oreos for our post-elopement snack." She sat up, already buzzing with ideas. "And your mom! The formidable matriarch! I'm going to have to practice my 'innocent fiancée' look. Does she prefer demure smiles or wide-eyed wonder?"
Theo chuckled, pulling her back against him. "She'll prefer you alive, Remy. And untangled from any criminal investigations." He held her close, feeling the light, vibrant energy of her body against his. The thought of introducing her to his family, to the rigid, traditional world he'd tried to escape, was daunting. But with Remy by his side, even that felt less like a burden and more like the next thrilling adventure. Their secret marriage, a vibrant, unconventional bond forged in the chaos of Vegas, would be their strength. And together, they would navigate whatever unexpected twists and turns their shared future, long and bright, now held. The road to New York, and a whole new set of challenges, awaited them.