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And it was looking a lot like first priority to me.
Zeno produced a square velvet box and I could no longer keep my elation at bay. It grew in my chest until my heart burned with inexplicable longing.
The romantic in me had imagined this moment so many times. It was ironic that it was my most passionate fling turned enemy proposing to me.
Keeping his eyes trained on me, he flipped open the lid.
A stunning, five-carat, reddiamond sat nestled amongst a cluster of white diamonds in a cushion cut and yellow gold band.
He listened to me and gave me exactly what I wanted.
“Darla Ivy Hill,” Zeno Gianni De la Croix rasped with the same quality kings in the past must have emulated when their queens conquered them. “Marry me,monange.”
CHAPTER 12
Undead Soul
Zeno
“Congratulations are in order, I presume?”
I lifted my gaze from my glass of whiskey towards Donovan Shaw, who sat across from me behind his office desk in MacGregor. He wasn’t even making an effort to hide the smug look on his face as he puffed on a Cuban cigar.
I twirled my glass on the coaster. “How much did you see, Don?”
Usually a man of few words, he jested, “The part where she slapped you, tried to stab you, and then brought you to your knees all under ten minutes. Though I have to say, I wasn’t expecting you to propose to her or for her to sayyes.”
His office window overlooked the side alleyway where my Lamborghini was parked. Of course he saw the entire thing.
“That makes two of us,” I murmured. I could still feel the imprint of Darla’s slap and the metallic taste of her blood. It only excited me. Only made me want to chain her down and fuck her that much harder.
Donovan’s dark eyes were weighed with caution as he assessed me, running his fingers through his brown hair. He was tall and looked like a hockey defenceman rather than a businessman who dominated a multitude of bars and nightclubs spanning Central Canada.
Now he also owned MacGregor, one of the oldest pubs in Montardor, which had once been grounds for criminal activities in the 1970s. He purchased it a few years ago when he returned to the city for the sake of the woman he spent his whole life loving.
I respected Donovan. He knew life’s hardships in a way people from the upper crust society would never understand. He was a fellow kindred spirit. A once young gangster from East Side, Montardor, who had big dreams and ambitions.
“Where did she come from? I didn’t even know you were dating someone.”
“I’m not dating her.” I reclined back in my chair. “Yves said I needed a wife to take over the seat, and she was…convenient.”
That wasn’t the right word, but it would do for now without delving deeper into my thoughts, which were already consumed enough as it was by the tweed-wearing, goody two-shoes high school principal.
I wanted her for a reason beyond me and nobody needed to fucking know that.
“Ah, so you coerced the poor girl into a marriage with you.” Donovan took another drag of his cigar. “Can’t say I agree with what you’re doing, Zed, but I know how you are when you become fixated on something.”
Obsessed.
Restless.
Until the punisher in me got what he wanted.
“You don’t have to agree.” I shrugged, downing my drink. “Just make sure you RSVP when I send you the wedding invitation.”
He shook his head to emphasize his disappointment.
It was his birthday tomorrow. I was paying him a visit to deliver a custom, DLC gun. It was one-of-a-kind because only the best for my best friend.
