She tilts her face up. “You are?”
“Of course.” My thumb traces the line of her jaw. “You defended yourself. Put an end to an evil piece of shit in the process.”
“I feel like I should feel guilty. About killing someone.”
I felt the same way after Scott. The confusion. The strange emptiness where remorse should have been.
“Some people deserve to die, Sunshine. Some people are too dangerous to let keep breathing.”
She’s quiet for a moment. Then she fully relaxes against me with a deep sigh.
“By the way,” she says, and there’s something almost teasing in her voice now, “I’m sorry for standing you up at the altar.”
A rough sound escapes my throat. Almost a laugh. “You owe me a wedding.”
The silence that follows is heavy. Thick.
“Are you sure?” she whispers. “That you still want that? Even with Viktor gone?”
I tighten my arms around her. Pull her closer until there’s not an inch of space left between us.
“I’m sure. But not an arrangement.” I pause, suddenly nervous. “I want it to be real. I want it to be because I love you.”
She goes completely still.
I keep talking because stopping feels impossible now. “I didn’t think I could have this. Someone who sees what I am and doesn’t flinch.” The words feel foreign in my mouth. I mean every one. “I love you, Sierra. I don’t know when it happened. Maybe it was there from the start. But I know I’m not letting you go.”
She’s trembling. Or maybe I am.
“You love me,” she breathes, like she’s testing the words. Checking if they’re real.
“I do.” I press my forehead to hers. “What about you? Are you willing to marry me for real?”
She doesn’t answer with words.
She answers by surging up and kissing me. Deep and desperate and full of everything we’ve both been holding back. Her fingers curl into my hair. Her body presses against mine like she’s trying to crawl inside my skin.
When she finally pulls back, her eyes are wet. But she’s smiling.
“I love you, too.” Her voice is soft. “I love you, and yes. I’ll marry you for real, Matteo. I’ll marry you a hundred times if you want.”
I kiss her forehead. Then her eyelids. Then her mouth. Taking my time like we have all of it now.
She falls asleep in my arms. I stay awake a while longer, watching the rise and fall of her breathing.
I spent thirty years thinking I was only built for violence.
Turns out I was built for her.
EPILOGUE
SIERRA
ONE MONTH LATER
The wind catches my veil,and I let it.
I’m standing on a cliff in California, overlooking a stretch of rocky beach where the waves crash against stone and send up white spray that catches the afternoon light. The air tastes like salt and something sweeter. Freedom, maybe. Or just the flowers tucked into my hair.
