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I see the outline of his mouth lift into a smile, my stomach filling with butterflies.
“You heard me, princess. I’m asking you to marry me.” His husky voice causes my core to flutter in response.
A blush creeps onto my skin, my face heating instantly as I turn my head and look away, but the aversion doesn’t last long because within seconds, he’s grabbing my face and forcing me to face him.
“Don’t hide from me. Answer me,” I can’t help but laugh.
“I just broke out of my own home, risking my life to find you because my family is seconds away from murdering you and you ask me to marry you?” I say, my voice almost sounding frantic now.
“Why?” I ask, searching his blurry gaze as he falls silent for a few moments.
“Because it’s the only way we can stop this. If we are married, our families have no choice but to join together. It’s the only chance we have at stopping the Merlini’s once and for all,” he says, no fault or pause in his words as I stare at him.
Right then, I have the sudden urge to scream. Not because I’m angry at him, but because I’m angry at the situation, at the circumstance. Because I wanted this man to marry me because he wanted to, not because he had to. I wanted romance and joy when this moment in my life finally came, I didn’t want obligation or duty or for it to be a fucking business transaction.
“Tell me what you’re thinking, princess,” he says, my throat clearing as I look at him.
“I’m thinking that this is more of a deal and not a moment of love,” I whisper, trying to not let the hurt appear in my words.
“Come here.” Being extra gentle with my wrist, he lays me against his chest and forces my head up with his finger under my chin so that I can look at him as he speaks.
“I want you to know that after all of this, I will ask you again. I’ll give you the whole fairytale cliché, redo an entire wedding. Hell, for you woman, I’ll marry you every year until we die,” he says, his nose rubbing against mine as my heart soars through my chest.
“But right now, baby, if we don’t do something drastic, we might die before those years even come. Do you understand?” He asks, eyeing me carefully as I sit there with the entire world on my shoulders.
But I do understand. As shitty as this is, I get it. It’s a do or die situation and right now, he’s on the verge of dying. He’s very close to being shot by one of my brothers or my father and I’m here, risking it all to be next to him. We have to do something. And we have to do it fast.
“How quick can you get a marriage license?” I ask, feeling lightheaded as the question leaves my lips.
He chuckles, the rumble of his chest vibrating against my cheek.
“Sweetheart, this is Manhattan. Anything I want I can get in an hour,” he pulls his phone from his pocket and pushes a few buttons.
“It’ll be in my email and ready to print in a little. We can fill it out and send it to the court online. I know every single judge in this city.” Suddenly, the room begins to spin.
“Lori, what is it?” He asks, his voice sounding concerned as he speaks to me.
“It just all feels surreal.” I turn to look out of the window at the blurry lights that shine through it.
“I know, but Lori, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make sure that we both are alive to see the end of this,” he says, grabbing my uninjured hand and holding it with his own.
I look up at him then, my eyes landing on his beautiful, perfect face. One that I really wouldn’t mind looking at forever. I smile at him then, my heart blooming like a flower in my chest as he leans forward to press his nose against mine, an action that I’ve grown more than fond of.
“Together,” I whisper, leaning up to kiss his lips softly.
We stay like that for a while, just sitting in each other's presence. He talks about his mother during this time, shedding a few tears as I hold him close and do my best not to break down. He’s been so lonely and sad these last couple of days, all he really needs is someone to be there for him, to hold him. So I do. I listen and I soothe, and I hold him while the world continues on around us, this man that’s seen as a monster by so many, but I don’t see him as that. I see him as this: a broken, sensitive man who just wants to be acknowledged, to be held, to be loved.
An hour passes and the email comes through. He prints out the marriage license and we fill it out together, his hand guiding mine when it’s my turn to fill out my name. We’re in the presence of his security guard and his nightclub secretary, who just so happens to be a notoriety of course. This man really does have the entire world in his back pocket. I tell him I don’t have my social security card or license to make a copy of, but he surprises me once more by pulling up a file with all of my information inside of it. I don’t have time to get angry at him for having that, so I just give him a tight-lipped smile and have him send everything off to the court online. He says, “everything should be finalized by morning.”
He prints out a copy and folds it up, placing it in the pocket of his suit jacket as I raise my eyebrows in question.
“Are you going to frame it or something?” I ask, joking as he shakes his head at me and walks me back to the couch. He grabs the throw blanket and drapes it over us as we lay against each other.
“It’s to show your family. As soon as we wake up, we will be paying them a visit,” he says, kissing my forehead. Anxiety blooms in the pit of my stomach.
I only spend a few minutes worrying about what's yet to come. Mostly because he doesn’t allow any room for worry as he begins smoothing my hair back and planting kisses on my cheek, slowly easing me into a peaceful sleep as I lay there, safe in his arms.
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