Page 65 of Christmas Mafia Prince
“The wedding is happening tomorrow, by the way, so you better get well enough until then,” Karl adds, and I look up, floating in an unfamiliar warmth.
“Father?” Damen asks, pulling me close. He smells of blood and adrenaline, which is somehow even better than grapefruit and gunpowder.
Karl’s eyes settle on him, and both men regard each other for a full two seconds before it’s the father who speaks. “Thank you for sparing Titus’s life. I would have understood if you didn’t, buthe is still my son. And speaking of sons—” His eyes settle on me next, and I have to force myself not to flinch when he taps my shoulder. “Welcome to the family.”
Chapter 25
Killian
Ineverreallygavemarriage much thought before. I’m twenty-one, my adult life has been a mix of upheaval, money struggles, and a string of bad boyfriends. When you spend so much time walking on the edge, it’s hard to think about the future.
But when I’m with Damen, I see the years ahead so clearly, so brightly. He’s someone I can trust and depend on. And even ifugly truths await me at times because of the nature of his job, he will not lie to me, I’m sure of that.
After all was said and done yesterday after all the mayhem and more pain meds for me, we settled into bed together, and I couldn’t have felt safer than in his arms. And that’s despite a person who wanted me dead sleeping under the same roof.
The whirlwind that is my life continues today after an officiant flies in by helicopter to marry us. We’re gathered around the antique carousel in the woodland clearing. It’s lit up so brightly, and while paint is still peeling off the wooden horses, they were polished, and each one has mistletoe tied to its neck. Holly and red bows transform the old merry-go-round into a temple to our young love. A bit of snow, barely a dusting, swirls in the air, illuminated by the light.
Damen is wearing the beautiful woolen coat he had on when I first fell into his lap, I’m in my alternative finery, but with a black turtleneck under the studded suit jacket for warmth. I’m too vain to sacrifice my looks for a puffy coat. As we face one another on the glowing platform, with Samantha and a very-bruised Titus as our witnesses, I know we’re perfect for each other.
I still can’t believe none of this is a beautiful dream, but I am loved, I have a new family, and my groom brought me to our wedding on horseback. In this Christmas fairytale, I will start my new life as a married man.
The guests watch from benches arranged in front of the carousel. Corvus is playing the violin to provide an appropriate background for our vows, and even Aspen seems happy for us, filming the ceremony with his phone despite a professional photographer also being present.
The officiant, who’s likely gotten paid a ridiculous sum of money to leave her family and marry us today, smiles and steps forward, into the purplish glow of the afternoon sun. She’s reciting one of the usual formulas they say at weddings, but Ican barely hear her, so completely focused on my husband, who watches me with a predatory glint in his eyes. Will we make it to our room before we consummate this union? I suppose I’ll have to find out.
“I do,” Damen says, and only then do I realize the time has come, and that he’s just agreed to take me as his. Forever and ever. In sickness and in health. For richer and for poorer. For better and for worse.
I believed him when he said it would happen, but my eyes still sting as I stare at him, knowing I’ve found my home at last.
When the officiant asks me the same. I know exactly what my response will be.
“I do.”
Epilogue
Killian
OneYearLater...
I can’t believe I’ve misplaced my Christmas gift for Damen. I had it made within the first three months of our marriage, then hid it so it wouldn’t get lost, or found by my man, which isso typical.
I know I wouldn’t have put the little gift box under our bed, but I still sink to my knees and peek down there, annoyed withmy own stupidity. I should have looked for it a week ago, not on the day of our departure! I guess that’s what happens when your apartment isn’t a shoebox but a two-storey mansion inside a skyscraper. It also has three bathrooms and several rooms for different purposes. Shit gets lost.
A weight settles on my back, and I groan. “Really, Whiskers? You want to playnow?” I ask and raise my torso, forcing the cat to leap off me.
He growls, giving me the stink eye, but he doesn’t have the right to complain as long as he doesn’t have to pay rent, so I glare back with the same intensity.
“How’s the packing going?” Damen asks, peeking into our huge modern bedroom. He looks like a dream come true in the blazer I chose for him.
I fake a smile. “All good! Just can’t find my perfume, but I’m almost ready.”
Damen frowns. “I’m pretty sure I saw it in the bathroom. The guys will be here any minute…”
“That’s err… the spare perfume. I need the other one.”
“Aren’t they the same—”
I throw my arms up. “Don’t question me!”
