Sophia leans forward, her eyes kind but sharp.“If that’s what you want, Lily, then yes.Don’t ever let this world tell you what you can or can’t be.If you want to stand at Damiano’s side, not in his shadow, you can.I’ve seen how he watches you.He may not know it yet, but he’s already chosen you.”
My heart clenches at her words, but the doubt creeps in anyway.
“But what if…” I swallow.“What if I’m just…convenient?Temporary?What if I’m not what he wants long term?”
Sophia’s smile turns knowing, a little sad.“Men like my son aren’t easy with feelings.Especially love.They don’t name it until it’s burning down the walls around them.But that doesn’t mean it isn’t there.”
I don’t know what to say to that.I nod slowly, my thoughts spinning.
“The real question,tesoro,” she adds, “is not whether he loves you.It’s whether you’re brave enough to claim your place beside him, before he even knows he built it for you.”
The words land like a promise and a challenge.
And something inside me, something quiet and hidden and waiting, shifts.Maybe I’m not ready to believe it just yet.But maybe…I want to be.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Lily
A couple of weeks after my conversation with Sophia, Damiano tells me he wants to show me something.He doesn’t say much, merely gives me that crooked half-smile and tells me to dress comfortably.When we drive, it’s not in a motorcade, not in one of his armored black beasts, but in a quiet, sleek sedan.Only the two of us, like a normal couple.
The drive is short and soon we pull up in front of a restored stone building tucked behind an ivy-covered wall.It looks like something out of a European countryside painting, old-world charm with new-world polish.Warm wood doors, soft golden lighting inside and a sign painted in delicate script.
“Sanctuary—Veterinary Care and Healing.”
I blink at the sign, at the building, then at him.“What is this?”I ask, my voice already thick with something I’m afraid to name.He doesn’t answer.He simply takes my hand and leads me inside.
The space is beautiful, warm and full of light.It smells like cedar and disinfectant and comfort.There are exam rooms with brand-new equipment, a surgical suite that would make any vet weep, a recovery ward with soft beds and soothing music playing low in the background.There’s even a quiet corner with blankets and books for people waiting with their animals, or just needing a place to breathe.
I turn slowly, speechless.Damiano is watching me, waiting, his expression is unreadable.“It’s yours,” he says quietly.
I blink.“What?”
He steps closer.“I bought the building.Staffed it, got all the permits.You can run it, work in it, visit it.Or lock the doors and never set foot in it again.It’s yours, love, to do whatever you want.”
I swallow hard.“But…why?”
He’s quiet for a beat.Then he shrugs.“Because even monsters have pets.Even killers have things they love.And the world…the world is full of broken things.But this”—he gestures around us, his voice low, steady, earnest—“this can be a place that heals something.”He steps closer.His hand lifts to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.“You heal things, little flower.Whether you mean to or not.This world of mine is full of blood and cruelty and power.But you?You remind me why it’s worth protecting at all.”
I swallow hard.“It’s too much.I don’t know if I can—”
“You can.”His voice cuts through, soft but absolute.“And even if you don’t believe that yet…I do.I believe in you enough for both of us.”
“I’m not sure I deserve this.”
He smiles, slow, and tender.“You deserve more than this world knows how to give.But I’ll spend the rest of my life trying anyway.If you’ll let me.”
I look around again, and it’s so me.Every detail.Every room.It’s the dream I never let myself believe I’d have again.And he saw it.He made it real.My throat is thick, and my hands are shaking.And all I can think is,This man…he sees me.Not only who I am, but who I still want to be.He sees my dreams, my hopes.He is offering me a future.
It hits me then, like it does more and more lately, how deeply I love him.And God, the chemistry between us hasn’t dulled at all.It simmers in the silence, charges the air.It’s in the way his hand lingers on my waist, the way his eyes flick to my mouth when I speak, the way he looks at me like he wants to ruin me in the most beautiful way possible.
* * * *
Later, back at the condo, I don’t even make it past the front door.The door clicks shut behind us, the city left far behind, and I feel it, the shift in him.In the silence, in the way his body tightens under my touch.His hand glides down my back, possessive and steady.
“Go to the bedroom,” he says, his voice low and rough, a command wrapped in velvet.My breath catches, and my legs move before I even think.I trust him more than I’ve ever trusted anyone.And I want this.Need it.I hear his footsteps behind me, unhurried, full of that calm control that both unsettles and ignites something in me.When I stop at the edge of the bed, I turn to face him.He is already pulling off his jacket, unbuttoning his shirt with slow, controlled movements.
“I don’t want soft tonight,” I tell him.My voice is barely more than a whisper.“I want you, all of you.”
