I swish my tongue around my mouth to loosen up my words before saying, “Devils are angels who fell through the cracks, misunderstood rejects who won’t find their place until they’re guided toward the light by someone much stronger and more powerful than them. You are my light,Ahren, my beacon to good. You understand me like no one ever has, as you too are an angel who fell through the cracks.”
She nods, wholeheartedly agreeing with me.
“Your wings never broke as mine did, though. They wrapped around you like a cocoon, protecting and sheltering you from those who wished you harm. You never wanted to escape, to trust again, but your wish to stop others being hurt led to your metamorphosis happening before my very eyes.”
Pride swells in my chest when a timeline of our relationship rolls through my head. She was so shy and timid at the start, an angel trapped by the devil determined to devour her, yet she fought the undeniable pull and my unbendable demand. She was determined to show me a life I never knew existed.
She made me whole.
“You emerged from your cocoon to protect a man not worthy of you long before you considered leaving to save yourself. Now he must do the same.”
I notice several members of my crew, Roman, and Justine’s brothers surrounding us when my eyes drift to her father standing gobsmacked at the entrance of the kitchen. I expect their faces to be riddled with disgust, or at the very least, amusement. That’s not what I am seeing. They appear as joyous, shocked, and happy as me.
“Please.”
I have a trillion more words in my head, statements on how I’ll never let his daughter come to harm, and that I’ll protect and love her and his grandchild for the rest of my life, but additional pledges are not needed. The quick dip of Nathaniel’s chin assures me he heard the words I failed to verbalize.
Seeking guarantee that I didn’t misread his silent approval, I return my eyes to Justine. Her smile at my stunned expression squeezes the first lot of tears from her eyes. I almost stand to wipe them away but am reminded of the reason for my rare public display of affection when Roman removes a black box from his suit jacket to hand it to me.
I’ve had this ring for weeks. I had planned to ask Justine to marry me during our celebration dinner earlier this week, but I was the one left grappling for a sense of normality when family and friends emerged from the woodwork shouting “happy birthday.” Roman has been guardian of her ring since that day.
“I don’t have any doves. It’s probably for the best. I don’t think your mother would appreciate them crapping on the carpet.” Justine’s giggle is barely heard over the uproarious laughter bellowing around us. “But I do have a ring and a promise . . .” I wave my hand around her family home, which is dramatically different from the one we arrived at four days ago. “. . . to give you everything and anything your heart desires. You just need to say yes,Ahren.Say yes, and I’ll give you the world. You’ll want for nothing when you are my wife.” I lower my eyes to her tiny belly. “Neither of you.”
Justine’s hand envelopes mine when I cradle the tiny bump in her stomach. She doesn’t care about the ring or the size of the diamond in the middle of it. All she cares about is me and the promises she knows I’ll never break.
And perhaps granting me my greatest wish with the simplest dip of her chin.
14
“He asked like that?In front of everyone?”
When Justine nods at Blaire’s question, Blaire’s shining eyes rocket to Rico. She glares at him with her blonde brow raised, her large smile weakening her angry sneer.
“What?” Rico chokes on his whiskey, as incapable of harnessing his body’s response to his wife’s smile tonight as he was years ago. “You barely remember the night we got married, Kitten, much less the words we spoke before it happened. For all you know, I could have delivered a speech much more heartfelt than his.”
His Russian accent is more pronounced as his urge to hunt grows rampant. Just like me, Rico is a natural born killer. Unlike me, the only person he hunts these days is Blaire—his wife.
I give Rico a cocky wink when his narrowed eyes swing my way. It rubs salt into wounds I wish he didn’t have, but he’ll get the fuck over it. I thought I’d see my death bed before being awarded a noble look from his little kitty, so I’m going to milk it for all it’s worth.
Justine’s eyes flare when Blaire leans forward to press her lips to Rico’s. With her body overrun with hormones, she adores the sickening lovey-dovey stint Rico and Blaire have been working the past four hours. I swear she’s had love hearts in her eyes half the night.
If I chopped off my cock, I could understand her eagerness. Her past year has been surrounded by men who treat women how I used to: as disposable whores. Although I’ll never be ashamed of my men’s barbaric ways—they work hard, so they deserve to unwind any way they see fit—I’m glad Justine is seeing another side of the coin.
She’s fought a good battle, but I know she’s struggled with jealousy the past twelve months. It hasn’t been all bad, though. I assumed the day I was crippled by a pussy would be the day my reign would topple. I was so far off the mark, I’m beginning to wonder if it was just my heart Justine stole when she waltzed into my life with the core of a fighter hidden by the face of an angel.
She and her insatiably greedy cunt have kept me so entertained, not a feather has ruffled when my men rib me on fucking the same pussy for the remainder of my life. If given a choice, I’d sign up to be Justine’s cunt’s slave for eternity. She is a drug I crave more than anything, one hit never enough.
My nostrils stop flaring from the thrill of the chase when Blaire snickers, “I remember the good points from our wedding night.”
Through a shit-eating grin, Rico swallows a mouthful of his drink before placing an empty coffee mug on the table. “Uh-huh. Like your ability to make balloon animals with condoms?”
Blaire’s hand slaps her eyes as embarrassment reddens her cheeks. Unfortunately for her, she doesn’t need to see our smiles to know of their arrival. She can hear them in the laughter bouncing around the room.
The heat on her face turns blistering when I snicker, “Oh, Kitty, I knew there were devilish thoughts hidden in you somewhere. With a little more practice, maybe you can change those kiddie tricks into more entertaining ones.”
A dishcloth smacks me upside the side of the head at the same time Rico whacks my chest. His hit is soft enough to advise it was a cautionary hit, but strong enough to steal some of the air from my lungs.
“What?” I give him another wink, switching the leftover mirth on his face to full-blown anger. “Better to be the wolf than the sheep who hides from him.”
