Page 137 of Desperate People

Maybe it’s the most solid, grounded thing I’ve ever known.

Maybe Balor really is my forever.

And just like that, I know.

My heart is his.

Maybe it always was.

I stare up at him, my fingers curled tight around the breadth of his shoulders, drinking him in—those mismatched eyes full of promise, that rare smile meant only for me.

I don’t say it aloud, but I feel it all the same, humming through my veins, sinking into my bones like truth.

Thank you for choosing me.

“I love you, too,” I whisper, voice shaking but sure.

His breath hitches. Something fierce flares behind his eyes.

“You have no idea how fucking much I love hearing you say that,” he rasps, brushing his knuckles down my cheek with reverent care.

I smile, watery and real. “I think I do, Husband.”

His eyes darken with something hotter—possessive, hungry, dominant.

My breath catches.

“Next time, I’m gonna make you scream it, Wife.”

A promise. A vow.

“I would now, but the car’s here. And we’ve got an appointment to keep.”

I glance toward the window where I see the sleek black town car waiting at the curb, engine running, professional and punctual.

“Guess we have to do this,” I murmur, my face stretched in a smile so wide it nearly aches.

He grins, cocky and unrepentant. “Guess so, Mrs. Cruz. But when we get back,” he pauses.

Then, he leans in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, voice dropping an octave. “I’m gonna make good on that promise.”

“Yeah?”

“Damn right I will.”

I believe him. With everything in me, I believe him.

And I can’t fucking wait.

Chapter Thirty-Four-Balor

I take a look at the scene in front of me.

The pitiful yellow tape fluttering like a joke in the breeze.

The crowd pressed up against it, cell phones raised, shouts echoing like a chorus of chaos.

Too many people.

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