"Sorry that took so long," I whisper close to her ear, unable to resist staying glued to her side. I don't know if she realizes how many times I've invaded her personal space, but I can't stop. I know I have to give her room, that this isn’t how I'll get her to yield, but it’s beyond my control.
"It's fine," she says. "I managed to sort out the food and flowers."
When she turns her head, her lips end up inches from mine. Her eyes lift from my mouth to my gaze, and I want to rip away the reservation in them with my bare hands, that fear that I might hurt her.
I’ve pried the stories out of Luna over the past few months. I know all about the shitty relationships she’s had. How couldthose men not have appreciated her? How could they not have taken care to worship her every day? How could they have cheated on her? Who the hell could ever compare to her?
"What flowers did you choose?" I ask, swallowing the lump in my throat to keep from closing the distance between us.
"Franklin Tea Flower," she says quietly, and I look at her, a little surprised.
What the hell is a Franklin Tea Flower?
Sensing my confusion, she explains, "It's my favorite flower. It's very hard to find, but I have a friend who grows it at her nursery in Springfield."
I lower my head. I should have known that. I should have known her favorite flower, but it's hard to learn these details when you spend more time in the shadows than in the light.
A commotion at the club's entrance draws my attention. I turn my head and see Gigi entering with Everette, another employee of mine. They both started working here five years ago after escaping the clutches of some Serbians they owed money to. Although they received money to start a new life, they both chose to work here, and Gigi was always willing to earn an extra tip. Until yesterday, nothing this serious had ever happened. We’ve had our share of loud drunks or politicians making threats when they didn't get what they wanted, but it never went beyond empty words.
My eyes fix on Gigi's neck, where the necklace of bruises left by Senator Ashville's hand is still visible. I should probably go back and finish what I started with the Thai blade, but I suspect Vasili is already keeping him on the brink of death.
I walk over to Gigi. "Do you need a few days off?" I ask.
Her eyes shine with something that looks like vulnerability when she answers, "No."
Everette stands behind her, slightly lost in thought. This incident has damaged their trust in me, and that bothers me. But there’s nothing else I can do except offer Gigi the skin from the senator's hand as a gift, though I doubt she'd appreciate the gesture.
I feel Roxanne’s presence behind me. Without turning, I say to the girls, "Gigi, Everette, I'd like you to meet my future wife, Roxanne."
Their eyes instinctively widen, and I can't suppress the smile that stretches across my face.
Roxanne steps in front of me and extends her hand.
"A pleasure. But I don't think Damien was very clear. You're going to take a few days off because you'll have a bonus to spend and you'll need time for that. Let's say twenty thousand dollars. Isn't that right, darling?"
I slowly turn toward her. If my smile was taking up half my face before, I'm sure I look downright ridiculous now because my lips can’t stretch any wider. I don't miss the protectiveness in her tone, and something like pride swells in my chest at the thought that, even though we're not officially a couple, she’s looking out for my girls.
"Of course. Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets."
"Future wife," she says firmly, but a smirk lights up her face.
Gigi stares at us, her mouth slightly open, but I just give her a subtle nod.
"Thank you," she whispers to Roxanne before she and Everette walk past us.
I watch their silhouettes head toward one of the changing rooms. Even though she's been given a few days off, I know she won't take them. For some of the women here, this place is home. No one forces them to stay, no one makes them doanything they don't want to, but a feeling of guilt still settles like a lead fist on my chest.
"I hope the bastard who left that mark on her didn't walk out of here," I hear the woman for whom I would stop the world from spinning murmur.
I don't know if she meant for those words to leave her mind, but I'm glad they did. The only way I see her being able to withstand me, and the madness in my head, is with that same dose of darkness in her.
"I don't know if he'll leave with all his skin attached," I answer honestly.
As much as I fear her repulsion, as much as I fear I could disgust her with my methods, this is who I am. And I need her to accept me without any masks because I know she will inevitably see the monster inside. Especially now, with the entire Council on my back and apparently more mercenaries trying to take me out of the game.
When I turn back to her, she's looking at me with something warm in her gaze. I don't want to rush to put a name to that glint, but I could swear it's admiration.
"Good," she says. "I have to call my uncle to let him know I'm getting married, then I'll go home and start packing."
