Page 72 of Dragonfly

“You,” he agrees, dropping a kiss to the top of my hair.

Pulling away just enough so that our eyes meet, Damien tells me, “I thought I’d get over it. That I would wake up and realize that I willingly tied myself to a woman who could never love me because of how much she hated me… but that never happened.

“And now,” he murmurs, his forehead pressed to mine, our sweat-slicked bodies almost as entangled now as they were when we were fucking, “I don’t ever want it to.”

I almost tell him that he has nothing to worry about. That Savannah agreed to a sham marriage, already looking for a way out, but even if I had the chance to escape again? I wouldn’t take it.

But I can’t find the words.

That’s okay.

Damien does.

“Understand this. My life belongs to you, ragna mia. Do with that what you will. Love me. Kill me. Just never, ever regret me. That’s all I ask of you.”

That’s all?

But it might just be too much.

TWENTY-FOUR

PART ONE

DAMIEN

Itell myself that I couldn’t care less that Savannah doesn’t love me the way I love her.

Look at that. I guess that woman made a liar of me after all because if that isn’t a crock of shit, I don’t know what is.

I want to say everything changed at my fortieth birthday dinner. That would be another lie. From the moment I had her standing in front of Judge Callahan, I was already prepared to do whatever I had to to keep her. Obsession was enough; I didn’t expect to fall in love. But I did, and now a part of me won’t stop until he loves me, too.

It’s hard. To convince her to trust me, to fall for me, to love me… that’s a full-time job. Throw in the self-defense lessons that I insist on, plus those cozy moments when I can forget the weight of the world on my shoulders and just watch a silly musical with Vin, Gen, Savannah, and Orion… that’s time I never would’ve spared before.

Not when my entire life was devoted to turning the Libellula Family into what it is now.

I’m still a workaholic. Nothing passes through the East End of Springfield without my stamp on it, and with Jimmy Winter still finding a way to push his shitty product through my city, I’m busier than ever.

Two nights ago, a pair of my soldiers got invited to a dice game downtown. It was run by Winter and his guys, and it was obvious he was looking for new recruits. He saw the dragonflies on their skin and didn’t care, either. That means he’s looking to poach, and that bothers me more than hearing he’s expanding his operations, bringing the hard drugs like coke and H into Springfield instead of sticking to party drugs like Breeze and Eclipse.

Fuck, no. The real shit is a Dragonfly special. Lincoln’s already desperate to shut him down because of the cut in profits he’s seen since Winter started gun-running on his turf, but for this upstart nobody to come for me?

He’s dead. The second I can get my hands on him, I’ll make an example of him for any other shit-for-brains who thinks they can take me on.

Only one problem. Winter snuck out of the dice game before my guy could tip off the rest of our Family. By the time I got there with Vin, Oliver, and Tony, Winter was gone, and the one sacrificial lamb he left behind refused to give up his boss.

Even when I used my stiletto to cut out his tongue, choking on his blood as Vin tipped his head back to allow it to pour, that dumb fuck never said a word beyond an agonized, then garbled yell.

That pissed me off. I wanted to shut him down, knowing that once the snowflake threat was over with, I’d have more time to dedicate to Savannah. As it was, despite the fact that now we’re actually sleeping together instead of just sleeping side-by-side, I can’t help but feel like she’s drawing away from me again.

Gen, too. She’s as bubbly as ever when she’s not in ‘dance’ mode, obsessively performing a routine until her toes are bloody and she’s a sweat mess, but lately… she seems to be hiding something from me.

I don’t like it. I don’t like how Savannah will fuck me, but anytime I try to treat her like my wife, she pulls away.

And then I remember what Vin said to me before I had my snip reversed, and I had a brilliant idea to show Savannah just how dedicated I am to making this marriage worth. It’s a two-parter of a plan—and if I guess wrong and she’s been fucking playing me all along, I might be dead at the end of it—but, to me, it was worth the risk.

It took another week and a half before I could get everything set in motion, plus find the time to actually do it. But I finally did, and though she seems a little hesitant when I tell her we’re leaving the manor after dark, I see the tiniest hint of trust in her soft brown eyes as she says, “Okay.”

Fifteen minutes later, my wife looks up at the neon sign hung over the door of the shop. She takes it in—Coyote Den Ink—and then shakes her head when she sees the cut-out piece of vinyl shaped like a dragonfly that’s tucked away in the nearest window.

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