It was late by the time we finished dealing with the aftermath at the family safe house, so I took Vincent directly back to my private penthouse.The next morning, I woke up to breakfast already laid out.I leaned against the doorframe, watching the man seriously brewing coffee. "Feeling domestic?""I don't have an official title yet. Have to stay on my best behavior to make a good impression on my princess.""Otherwise, what if she gets mad and decides she doesn't want me anymore?"Vincent, wearing only a towel, with water dripping from his hair, teased me as he tweaked my nose.I sighed, remembering the blatant, gossipy stares my friends gave Vincent as we left last night.I scrolled idly on my tablet until my eyes landed on a news story, and I laughed."You want an official title? Well, here it is."On the screen, New York's financial and gossip columns had, for once, reached a consensus.The headlines were in bold, black font, and shocking:"FALCONE HEIRESS IN SCANDALOUS AFFAIR, NO
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