Page 15 of Dragonfly

“No. Sorry. That was my mistake. I wasn’t clear. I don’t want my associate here to harm you, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to let you go. Let you get away with this.”

My shoulders slump as Vin’s massive hand closes around my bicep, tethering me to him again.

Damien nods in approval. “I do, however, have a… proposition to make to you. As a way for you to make up for what you’ve just done.”

“Boss—”

He ignores Vin, and so do I. “What do you mean?”

“I want you to marry me. Become my bride.”

My stomach lurches. He has to be fucking with me.

In case he’s not, I gasp out, “That’s not a proposition. That’s a fucking proposal!”

“Hmm. I guess it is.”

I’m a shit stalker. How did I spend months studying Damien only to just know realize that he’s nuts. Fucking insane. He has that knife still sticking out of his side, the area around the tear darkening with blood, and he instead of wanting me dead, his bright idea for revenge is to propose.

Even worse, he looks amused that I corrected his madness.

“Think of it this way,” he continues when it’s clear he’s stunned me speechless, “regardless of the type of business I run, I am a businessman. Right now, Savannah, I’m giving you an opportunity. Consider it a business arrangement if you will. Marry me, and we can pretend this”—his waves at the knife that’s still sticking out of his side—“can be like water under the bridge. We forget all about it.”

“And if I don’t? If I don’t marry you?”

I can’t marry him?

“There are some other options we can come up with, I’m sure. Prison, for one. I know quite a few police officers. Attempted murder is a felony. You’ll go away for a long, long time?—”

I’m already shaking my head. It’s a visceral reaction. I barely survived four years in a minimum security prison on a trumped-up misdemeanor charge. A felony? Maximum security as a violent offender? No. No.

“I could always let you go, but once my men learn you tried to kill me, I’d say you have… twenty-four hours before the bounty on your head means one of my Dragonflies is bringing it to me.” Conversational as ever, he glances at the other man. “What do you say, Vin? Over? Under?”

“Under,” Vin responds in a flat voice from behind me. “Give her a five-minute head start, boss, and I’ll still have her delivered to you in ten.”

“And that’s why you have more leaves than anyone, and more sense in your head than Kieran who’s currently rotting beneath the laundromat right now.”

“Yeah, but he got killed by a Sinner for going after the wrong woman. And you want to marry the one who just tried to kill you?”

His icy gaze roves over my face as his upper lip curls. “Yes.”

At least I have some idea about what happened to that poor blonde woman I saw. Thanks to Vin here, I’ve heard the name Kieran multiple times this week. If he’s the one who worked that girl over, I’m glad to hear he’s dead.

Just… just not so happy that, if I don’t marry the man I’ve spent months plotting to kill, I’m next.

What else can I do, though? His bodyguard means it. Given the chance, he’d snap my neck right now. And though I have no fucking idea why Damien Libellula wants to torture me by forcing me to become his wife, it’s my only shot at survival.

I can’t do prison again. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life, looking over my shoulder for the Dragonflies. I sure as fuck don’t want to tie myself to their leader… but maybe it won’t be so bad.

Hey. I wanted to infiltrate his life. I wanted to find a way to get close to Damien… can I get any closer than being his bride?

And once I have… I failed in killing him once. The next time?

I won’t.

But I can’t agree so easily. He has to guess I’m already plotting. I mean, that knife is still there! I tried to kill him! He’s not even asking me about that! And yet… he’s waiting for me to give him an answer as though it really matters if I’ll willingly agree to this insanity or not.

I swallow the lump lodged in my throat that quite possibly might be my heart. “What about him? What if?—”

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