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I exhale, hating what I say next. “You can tell me no, never marry me, and walk away. I’ll let you go, and you can choose what’s best for your life. I will honor that.”

Her small hand curls into my chest, tugging my shirt to pull me closer. “Okay. And what’s the other option, Briar?”

I shudder. My name on her lips is a dangerous thing.

“Marry me,” I begin. “Marry me, become my wife, an O’Brien, and I’ll pay off all your brother’s debts. I’ll give him whatever sum he wants, and you’ll be free of him. Completely free.” But also, mine.

Her eyes bounce between mine, warily. “And if I don’t? I’m still stuck with him—with Scipione.”

Chuckling, I stare into her eyes. They explode with color—much like the sun.

“No, Sunshine,” he murmurs. “If you don’t marry me, I’ll still pay for your freedom. I would do anything you ask of me.”

Her lower lip trembles. “You’re terrible at negotiating. Just like being an assassin.”

“It must be your influence.” I shift, bodies pressed tightly together. “If you marry me, I will cherish you every day. I’ll never hurt you. If you ask me to kneel, I will fucking do it.” I lick my lips. “And if you marry me, I’ll give you my name, my protection—my fucking life, any money I have to be used at your discretion. Whatever I have is yours.”

She inhales. “You really mean it? You would willingly give me everything to make me your wife? To make me an O’Brien? No longer a Bruno.”

“I would give you the sun if it meant you’d be my wife, Valentine.” Caressing her jaw, I continue. “I won’t lie, it won’t be easy. I need you to understand—the bounty on my head would make you a target. We might have more issues than just rival families.” I tilt my head. “And my sisters are a lot. My brothers-in-law are too, but on the bright side, you know one of them.

“Needless to say, this isn’t the best setup. There’s danger and a lot of uncertainty. But whatever you want is yours.”

She giggles, her eyelashes wet. “So, I have freedom, assassins, and angry relatives to look forward to if I agree. What do you get out of this marriage?”

“You,” I say simply. My fists clutch her hips. “I get the woman I love. I get you. There’s nothing else I want.”

For the first time in a while, I don’t feel like the outsider. Lost, alone, and forgotten. I’m not looking from the shadows, wishing for more. All I want, all I wish for, is to keep this woman in my arms and have the life I deserve with her.

Valentina sighs, her chest rubbing against mine. Our pounding hearts intertwine , steady and bright. Her lips whisper against mine. “Roman won’t be happy. Even if you pay, he might not agree.”

“Fuck him,” I growl. “He can either take the money, or I take you.”

“I’m a lot,” she explains. “I like to dance every morning.”

“And do yoga,” I add. “And go until you can’t stand. I’ll make sure you don’t.”

Her lips quirk. “Of course, you know that. Because you’ve been stalking me.”

“Creative watching.”

“I want to travel. If we get married, we’re going to travel. I want to see everything.”

My heart soars at her boldness. “I’ve been around the world many times. I’ll take you wherever you want to go. You would only have to tell me what you’re feeling.” I rub my nose to hers. “We could have coffee in Italy, see famous paintings in the Louvre, and drink a pint in a pub in London. Whatever you want. You only have to be mine.” I swallow thickly. “So, what do you say? Will you marry me?”

My stomach twists in knots, sweat dotting my forehead.

The ball of sunlight hums delicately, her timid fingers wrapping around my neck. She plays with my hair, searching my eyes. I don’t know what she sees—I hope it’s my love, my earnestness. I would give her anything for that yes.

“This is insane,” she whispers. “All of it. It doesn’t make sense.”

“It doesn’t have to make sense,” I reply. “Love rarely does.”

She nods, sighing. “Fuck it. Let’s get married.”

My heart combusts in my chest, and I crush her against me, lips finding hers. I claim them in a brutal kiss, harsh and demanding. Biting and licking, my tongue plunges deeply until I hear that damn moan. The one that haunts my dreams.

Pulling back, I murmur, “We need a priest.”