Page 92 of The Merciless Don's Bride

She smiles, clearly happy with herself, “What else was I supposed to do? I got tired of seeing him mope about the house the past couple of days so I decided I might as well provide you with some incentive to return. You’re welcome.”

“I was not moping,” Damien argues lowly.

“Whatever. The two of you have sorted through your issues, yes?” she asks.

I look up at him, knowing the onus is on me to answer that question.

“Yeah,” I say. “We’ll be fine.”

Or at least I hope we will be.

“Good. Because you’re not allowed to run away again. You’re a Luciano. This is your family now. You don’t get to pick and choose when to dump us and when to choose us.”

Ouch, that stings.

“Lay off her, Sophia,” Damien say defensively.

But she’s right. He and his entire family have treated me so well since I got here. The least I could do is stop making it seem like they’re nothing to me.

She rolls her eyes, “Anyway, my work here is done. The two of you have fun making up.”

We watch as she walks away, leaving us alone.

“I should probably…” I trail off, talking a step away from Damien.

“Where are you going?” he questions, holding on to my wrist.

“Upstairs. You have to get back to your meeting,” I remind him.

“Luca will take care of it,” he says flippantly. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. Plus, we need to talk.”

I feel my stomach flip over, suddenly nervous.

“Okay,” I agree.

He leads me upstairs towards his bedroom, or should I say ours? It’s kind of surreal, having something that’s ours. Damien doesn’t say a word on the way and I’m completely in my head thinking about what must be going through his mind. He’s probably still upset.

I would be upset too if my wife accused me of killing her father. We enter the bedroom and I barely have any time to take in our surrounding before he’s wrapping me in his arms again.

Damien holds me like I might disappear, his grip firm but careful. I bury my face into the curve of his neck, inhaling his scent that’s so achingly familiar now.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry I accused you.”

“You were right to be suspicious of me, sweetheart. I haven’t exactly given you reasons not to.”

My throat tightens but I make sure to look him in the eye as I say my next words.

“You’re not a monster, Damien. You’re also not a bad person. Are some of your actions bad and reproachable? Sure. But at the end of the day, this is about me and you, no one else. And to me, you’ve been this amazing, wonderful man. Who has cared for me, and wanted me and shown me that it’s okay to break down my walls. And I am so, so grateful for that.

He stares at me for the longest moment, eyes bright with intensity, searching, scanning, like he’s checking to see if I mean it. And I do. Every terrified, confusing bit of me dies as I look into his eyes. Because I’m so tired. I’m tired of pretending I don’t care. I’m tired of fighting what’s already mine.

Damien looks at me, eyes conveying everything he doesn’t say.

“Unfortunately mi vida, I have some bad news for you,” he drawls.

I frown, “What is it?”

“I’m ever letting you go again,” he says, voice rough with emotion. “You’re stuck here now.”

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