Forever (Betrothed 7)

I held his gaze as I listened to his confession, feeling a distinct warmth move down my throat and into my tummy. When we were lovers, I would have burst into tears if he said those words. I yearned to hear them even after we broke up, fantasizing about the moment he would step through my front door and say he couldn’t live without me. Now, he said it often, unafraid, and he looked me in the eye as if he was marking me as his property. He seemed like a man too rough to feel something like love, too cold to feel something that warm. I stayed quiet because I felt so much, all at the same time. I was newly divorced and still hurt by my husband’s betrayal, and I felt like I was still involved with Liam even after he’d broken down my front door. I didn’t feel like I could love someone else right now…way too much baggage.

Damien’s eyes didn’t shine in disappointment at my silence, as if my rejection didn’t sting. He looked at me a while longer before he turned away, his eyes glancing out the windows of the living room.

“If he was going to hurt me, he would have done it already.” Liam had been drunk and livid, but the only thing he’d destroyed was my door. He didn’t grab me by the neck or blacken one of my eyes. That was the test—and he passed.

Damien slowly turned back to me.

“You’re the one he wants.”

He slid his other hand into his pocket. “Then he can come get me.”

I knew Damien was strong and confident, but I was surprised he wasn’t the least bit concerned that a champion fighter had put him on a hit list. I’d seen Liam kill men with his bare hands, seen him crush skulls with his powerful knuckles.

“There’s only one thing I’m worried about.”

“What?” I whispered.

He bowed his head and stared at the floor for a while as he considered his response. His green eyes were open and focused, staring at one of the pieces of wood that comprised the floor. “You.” He lifted his gaze and met my look head on. “Will you forgive me if I kill him?”

My voice became weak and escaped as a whisper. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

“You’re the only thing I worry about.”

It felt almost too intimate to stare at him right now, to have this heated conversation in my apartment in the middle of the night. When Liam had confronted me, it was uncomfortable, but this…this was far more intense.

“I don’t have a lot of options. He’ll continue to come after me until I put him in the ground. It doesn’t matter how many times I defeat him, how many times I grant him mercy, he’ll continue to pursue me until I’m dead. His vendetta can’t be assuaged rationally.”

He was absolutely right. “I’ll talk to him…”

He shook his head. “I don’t want you near him.”

“Well, I don’t want you guys to kill each other.”

“Annabella, you don’t understand the underworld. This will not end peacefully. One man lives and one dies.”

I wish I’d had handled this better, had told Liam who my old lover was—or had the strength to stay away from Damien or something… I didn’t know what.

“I’m asking for your permission to kill him.”

Liam had hurt me so much, I wasn’t sure I could recover a second time. Then he’d barged in here and spoke to me like I meant nothing to him. He wasn’t the husband he promised to be, didn’t give me everything I deserved. But, no…I didn’t want him dead. “And you expect me to say yes?”

“I need you to say yes.” He tilted his head slightly as his eyes burned into my face. His hands remained in his pockets, and his strong physique remained relaxed, not hostile the way Liam’s had been. “Otherwise, he’ll kill me.”

Two

Damien

“It’s four in the goddamn morning.” Hades shut the bedroom door behind himself and walked beside me down the hallway. He was quiet as he passed Andrew’s bedroom, making sure his sleeping family didn’t wake up to this intrusion. “What the fuck is so important?” He took the stairs to the next landing so our voices wouldn’t be overheard.

“He knows.” I hadn’t slept much in days because the shit had hit the fan all at once.

He stood in his sweatpants, his bare chest rising and falling with aggressive energy. His muscular shoulders were rigid and tense, ready for a fight with an unknown foe. “Who knows what?”

“Liam knows it’s me.”

His anger diminished. “How did that happen?”

“I joined him at the bar, and he just figured it out. Seeing me there probably made him remember that night. That I was there…that I was the only person who knew what he did besides you. And of course…my name.”