Page 22 of The Last Shadow

My brows pinch together as I think about her question. “It’s not something Damien and I have talked about, but I don’t plan on retiring soon.” I love my job. It’s been the one steady thing in my adult life, and I won’t give it up, not even for Damien.

“And Damien is all right with that?”

I shrug. “He’ll have to be. I love him and while he might be incredibly powerful out in the world, he’s not the boss or the god of our relationship.”

Amelia smirks. “Make sure he knows that.”

“Oh, I will.” I’ll tell him because it’s important. I don’t mind letting him take the lead in some things, but my career is mine.

Several hours and several glasses of champagne later, I have a gorgeous white wedding dress, and Amelia has picked out a muted teal dress that shows off all of her assets.

CHAPTER TEN

Frankie

This is it. The most important day of my life, the day I merge my life with someone else.

I stand at the end of a short aisle inside an adorable chapel on a cliff in Malibu, because of course Damien’s assistant found the best venue in the city at the last minute. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly as my gaze settles on Damien.

“You ready for this, kid?” Jay stands beside me, looking dapper in his tuxedo. “I hope so because I didn’t rent this for nothing.”

“I’m ready.” I’m more than ready to become Mrs. Wolfe. As we walk down the aisle, excitement and anxiety blend like butterflies in my belly.There he is, looking as handsome as ever. Damien is so elegant wearing a beautiful black and white tuxedo and the closer I get to him, the more I feel out of place, as if I’m an imposter at my own wedding.

His lips part, welcoming me, beckoning me closer.

My heart slams against my chest and with every step I take, it speeds up until it’s deafening. Damien takes my hand in his, offering a brief nod to Jay before all of his attention is on me. His hand sends a jolt of electricity straight to my chest and I can hardly breathe.

“You’re gorgeous, my pet,” he whispers in my ear before pulling back, gazing down at me lovingly.

“Thank you. You look pretty handsome yourself.” He looks incredible and he’s all mine. “Let’s get married, shall we?”

“Yes, let’s.” His eyes brighten, a spark of excitement in them as he turns to the officiant with a commanding nod, signaling him to begin.

They say most women remember every moment of their wedding day, but the truth is I’m not sure of anything except the words Damien says directly to me. They are heartfelt and so passionate. I’m not sure a woman has ever been loved this thoroughly before.

“Francesca, from the moment we met I’ve been transfixed by you. By your beauty. By your strength.” His grip tightens on my hands. “My desire for you is unmatched by anything I’ve ever felt, and it isn’t just physical desire, it’s an all-consuming need that pulses through my veins. It’s the very essence of my being.”

A dream come true. His words hit just right, like a shot of whiskey warming me from the inside out, chasing away the last of my jitters.

“My solemn vow to you, Francesca, is that I will love you with a passion so intense, it’ll surpass everything else in this world,” Damien says, his voice getting a little rough. “When we’re together, nothing and no one else exists. I promise to be yourconfidant, your support, your partner, and even your shadow.” His nostrils flare, his jaw tightening for a moment before he continues. His intense gaze burns into mine, and the raw emotion in his voice sends shivers up my spine. “I vow to create a world where it’s just you and me, Francesca. A world where your heart pounds for me, and mine races for you. Where nothing else matters but the passion we share.”

My breath catches at the desire in his voice. My heart races, torn between wanting to give him everything and being overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. But this—this—is what I’ve craved. This kind of devotion. I’m his. Completely.

A tear slips down my cheek, and I let go of his hand to brush it away. Mascara and tears are never a good combo. And no, I’m not the kind of girl who thinks ahead with waterproof makeup.

“My love for you is powerful,” he continues. “Intense. And it demands that same love, that same loyalty in return.” He pauses, his fingers brushing mine. “I am yours, and you are mine, never to be shared with another. With every heartbeat, I choose you, Francesca. With every breath, I claim your soul. You are my lifeblood, my obsession, and I vow never to let anyone come between us. Not in this world, or whatever comes after it.”

He inhales deeply, releasing the breath slowly, his expression softening as he speaks.

“Wow, Damien.” My words come out barely above a whisper, too soft for the magnitude of what he’s just promised. Any doubts I had about belonging here vanish in the wake of his vows. Mine feel small in comparison, but as he holds my face and the officiant speaks, “You may now kiss your bride,” Damien brushes a soft kiss against my lips that feels like forever.

“My wife,” he growls, his voice low and possessive.

“My husband,” I reply.

He takes my hand and, turning toward the small gathering of friends and business associates, he raises our clasped hands in celebration. “Let’s celebrate.”

Neither of us has much family here, and Olivia couldn’t make it for obvious reasons, but this moment still feels complete. Like it’s exactly how it’s meant to be.

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