Chapter 7
630words
In a single afternoon, Damon Wilson had made the entire Rossi Family understand who truly held the reins.
My father—once the imperious godfather—now trailed behind Damon like an obsequious servant, even turning to hiss at me: "Irene, for God's sake, behave yourself. Marrying Young Master Wilson is the kind of luck most people don't see in ten lifetimes."
Watching his sycophantic performance, I couldn't help but roll my eyes.
"You could have mentioned this earlier. I thought he was just some pencil-pushing nerd."
My father scratched his head awkwardly. "The Wilson family insisted we keep his true... nature... under wraps."
Fine. I surrender.
In the cathedral, the priest's solemn voice echoed off ancient stones.
When asked if he would take me as his wife, Damon turned to me, his gaze burning into mine, and his thin lips parted to utter:
"Till death do us part."
I raised an eyebrow.
Why did it sound less like a vow and more like a threat?
The interminable ceremony finally ended. I was whisked away to Damon Wilson's penthouse atop one of Manhattan's most exclusive buildings.
Our wedding night sanctuary.
I perched by the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing at the glittering cityscape below, feeling shell-shocked.
The bathroom door opened. Damon emerged with just a towel slung low on his hips, water droplets tracing paths down his sculpted abs before disappearing beneath the terry cloth.
He stalked toward me, his presence so overwhelming I could barely breathe.
"Why?" I finally burst out, jumping to my feet with tears threatening to spill. "Why did you lie to me? Was it fun watching me make a complete fool of myself?"
I admit—despite everything, I was falling for him. But I was also furious.
Furious that he'd played me for a fool.
He closed the distance between us, gripping my chin and forcing my eyes to meet his.
"I gave you every chance to walk away."
His voice cut like ice. "You kept coming back. You signed that agreement. You announced to the world you'd marry no one but me."
His words left me speechless, my face burning with shame.
Damn him. He was right.
"Irene," his tone suddenly softened as he cradled my face, "everything except my name was real. My desire for you was genuine from the start."
His lips claimed mine with undeniable dominance and a whisper of something that might have been tenderness.
I struggled briefly before surrendering to the storm he unleashed.
Afterward, I curled against his chest, unwilling to break contact.
"I hate being lied to," I murmured against his skin, sulking.
"Never again," he promised, fingers lazily combing through my hair. "And as compensation, I've arranged a gift for you."
"What gift?"
"As of today, I've stripped your father of a significant portion of his power."
He mentioned it casually, as if discussing the weather. "Consider it a wedding present. From now on, you and your father stand as equals. No one will force your hand again."
I stared at him, emotions warring in my chest.
He'd deceived me, yes—but he'd also given me the freedom I'd always craved.
This man was both devil and savior.
I opened my mouth to speak when something caught my eye—a red dot flickering on the building opposite our window.
A sniper's laser sight!
"GET DOWN!" I screamed, acting on pure instinct.
I tackled him hard, sending us both rolling across the carpet.
A split second later—CRACK!—the window where we'd been standing exploded inward.
Damon's eyes turned lethal. He shielded me with his body while barking orders into a communicator on his wrist:
"Lock down Zone A. I want that shooter alive."
Clearly, my future would be anything but boring.
And honestly? I wouldn't have it any other way.
