Page 148 of The Beast Who Begged Me

I stroke my thumb along his cheek. He lets me, watching my face, then reaches into his pocket.

The box is small and dark. He opens it with his scarred hand, revealing a plain gold band, and for a moment I look from it to him without understanding anything at all.

“You’re mine,” he says. “And I want the whole world to know it. Marry me.”

I actually sit down again. Dami shifts closer on his knee, still holding out the ring, and I put my hand over my mouth.

I’ve never even thought about…

For once, I’m the one who needs a minute to catch up.

“You want to get married?” I ask stupidly.

“Yeah.” He raises the box again.

It makes a crazy kind of sense, now that the shock is wearing off. Marriage is the most possessive institution ever invented, after all. Witnessed, certified, and enforced—until death. He wants me wearing his claim where everyone can see it.

My beast hasn’t turned soft. He’s just managed to find a way to claim me that the rest of the world is required to honor.

“And the terms?” I ask, managing to lift an eyebrow.

“You get me for the rest of your fucking life.” He pauses, watching my face. “If you want me.”

“And what do you expect in return?”

“I do have one condition.” His fingers tighten around mine. “I want you to take my name. Forever. You’ll still run the Clemenza Family in your father’s memory. I’ll honor him with you. But I want everyone to know who you belong to—and who they’ll answer to if they touch you.”

I’ve already watched him kneel on this floor and swear the rest of his life to Don Clemenza. Now he’s holding out a ring and asking me, just me, for the rest of mine.

And somehow, after everything, he still thinks I might say no.

“Caligula Orsini,” I say, trying it out loud.

Dami goes very still.

That finishes whatever was left of my composure. I put both hands on his face and lean down to kiss him. “Yes,” I tell him after. “Yes, Dami. I love you. I want you. I’ll marry you.”

He catches my left hand, and I watch those big, damaged fingers guide the band into place with extraordinary care.

“Aren’t you supposed to wait for the actual ceremony to do that?” I tease him.

“Fuck that,” he says. “You’re mine, and I’m not waiting another second to prove it.”

I turn my hand beneath the candlelight, holding it beside the one that wears the ouroboros. Then I catch his before he can put the box away. “I’m getting you one as well. I want everyone to know you’re mine, too.”

His smile starts slowly. “Sure you want to be that obvious?”

“Oh, I do.” I bring his hand to my mouth, kissing the bare finger where mine will go. Then I look into his face. “Now tell me again. You know exactly what I mean,” I prompt, as he grins. “Tell me.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

His smile widens as mine finally comes. “I love you, Caligula. As many times as you need to hear it.”

“You might regret that.” I stand, bringing him up with me, and put my arms around his neck. “I love you, too, Dami. God, do I love you.”

His hand closes at my waist. I pull him down to kiss me, and the small box lands on the table behind us, forgotten.