Page 115 of Forbidden Billionaire
Not because it fixes what was broken.
But because it acknowledges it.
“I hate that you know me so well,” I whisper, my throat raw. “That you knew this”—I glance at the ring—”would undo me.”
His brow creases. “It’s not the ring,” he says quietly. “It’s you. It’s always been you.”
I laugh, but it comes out watery, brittle. “You’re such a bastard, Xavier Blackwell.”
“I know.” He doesn’t flinch. “But I’m your bastard, if you’ll let me be.”
The weight of it all crashes into me—everything that’s happened, everything we’ve survived. And how, somehow, impossibly, love still lives here, stubborn and gasping and real.
“I’m scared,” I admit, and the words shake loose from somewhere buried deep. “You’re not safe for me. You never have been.”
He nods, solemn. “I will spend the rest of my life proving I am. Your refuge. The one person you can count on. No matter what.”
My heart cracks wide open.
I kneel.
Right there on the floor with him, the stupid letter still clutched in one hand, I sink down until we’re eye to eye. I see the exact moment his breath catches, the desperation in his gaze softening to something dangerously close to hope.
“You’re not forgiven,” I say. “Not yet.”
“I don’t expect to be.” His voice is hoarse.
I reach out, wrap my fingers over his. “I believe in you.”
His throat works as he swallows, and I think maybe he’s fighting tears. The Xavier Blackwell who ruined me. Who rebuilt me. Who’s offering forever on bended knee.
“I love you,” I whisper. “God help me, I never stopped.”
A sound escapes him—half groan, half laugh—as he lifts the ring from the velvet box. “Can I…?”
I nod, tears spilling freely now. “I think you should.”
He helps me to stand, and then he slides the ring onto my finger, his hand trembling slightly, and it fits like it was made for me. For us.
“Seraphina Blackwell.” He says my future name softly, testing it as if it’s a prayer. “God, I like the sound of that.”
I lean in until our foreheads touch, our breaths mingling, and his hands cup my face like I’m fragile and fierce all at once.
“You break my heart.” I smile through the tears.
“You own mine.” His mouth finds mine like gravity—inescapable, inevitable, a pull I couldn’t fight even if I wanted to. And God, I don’t want to. Not anymore. Not with his ring on my finger and the storm in his eyes softening just for me.
I lean in, and he deepens the kiss. The hunger he’s been holding back roars to the surface.
Xavier slides one hand into my hair, cradling my head, holding me where he wants me. Then he wraps an arm around my waist, dragging me flush against the hard lines of his body. There’s no space, no restraint, only fire.
He devours me with each pass of his tongue, his kiss deep, claiming, possessive. His teeth nip at my lower lip, just enough to make me gasp—and he swallows the sound like a man starved.
I clutch his jacket like I’m holding onto the moment, desperate and breathless and undone.
My knees nearly buckle, but he holds me up. Of course he does.
When he finally pulls back, his lips are red and swollen, his pupils wide with heat. He brushes his thumb across my cheek. “I’m never letting you go again.”
