Page 27 of Damaged Beast
I went to hell to make this wedding happen. I accommodated annoying requests, threw together a passable ceremony, hired caterers and flower people and everything on short notice, and I did it all on my spare time. Now he’s burning all that work and spitting in my freaking face, not to mention?—
“Oh God, and poor Valentina!” I throw my hands in the air. “Did you stop to think what this would do to her?! She trusted you, but what a stupid mistakethatwas. Do you even know about herpast? She was left at the altar when she was twenty-four, did you know that? No, you didn’t, because you never bothered to get to know her. Oh my God, Prime! I can’t believe?—“
“Enough,” he snarls and my jaw clicks shut.
I’ve never seen him so mad before. It’s terrifying, the darkness that rolls from his shoulders, the promise of pain and death and suffering. He strides toward me, face beautiful and terrible. He grabs me by the hips and pins me against the door, holding me there, and I swear I’d scream if I could breathe. The smell of him, musky and heady, is overwhelming. The nearness of him is like a stab to my brain.
I’d run if I didn’t want him to devour me first.
“I know what I did,” he says, his voice low. I think there’s a slight tremor. Is that emotion? But no, that’s not possible. Prime doesn’t feel. “But I can’t give her what she truly wants. I can’t curse her or her children with me as their father. I thought I could, but I realized today that it would be so much worse if I tried. I’m wrong, Deanna. I’m all fucking wrong, and Valentina deserves someone who isn’t wicked like me.”
“You should’ve realized this sooner.”
“You’re right, but it took until now.” His grip on my hips tightens, digging in painfully.
“Prime,” I groan, wriggling. “Let me go. I have to… I have to tell everyone… I have to fix this…”
“No, you don’t, because while I can’t give Valentina what she wanted, I know someone else who I can please.”
His dark eyes are bottomless. I feel myself tumbling. I put my hands against his chest and I’m surprised to find him warmand his heart beating fast. Isn’t Prime some kind of statue? A monstrous, inhuman creature? But he’s a man, an attractive man, funny when he wants to be, clever too, weirdly kind, and his mouth?—
“What are you doing?”
He plucks the ring from his jacket. “Marry me, Deanna.”
My jaw drops in horror. This can’t be happening. It’s got to be some kind of joke. He sent Valentina home and now he’s having a mental breakdown, it’s the only rational explanation, except his hand is touching me, his body is close to mine, and he’s holding it out like he expects me to take it.
“No. Prime, this is crazy.”
“Marry me,” he repeats. “And if you do, I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you what you need. I know about your father.”
I stiffen, pushing back against the door behind me. I lift my chin, jaw tight, fingers digging against him. “Shut your mouth.”
“He’s sick, Deanna, and you’re the only person who can take care of him. But it takes money and resources, doesn’t it? You need me as much as I need you. Marry me, and I’ll make sure your father has the best care imaginable. The best nurses, the best doctors. Your mother too. They’ll be more than comfortable. I’ll move heaven to make sure they’re as happy as they can be in your father’s final days.”
I almost choke. I feel sick. Bile slides up my throat and I want to scream, but the only thing stopping me is the memory of my mother and my father sitting at the table laughing together.
“Fuck you,” I whisper.
“Marry me. I can give you what you really want.”
I hate him so much in this moment it’s like my whole body is consumed by it. I hate him, hate him, despise him for using my parents against me?—
But I also see a tiny glimmer of hope.
Because he’s right. Damn him, he’s right. These last few weeks have been the best of my father’s illness thanks to the extra money I’ve been bringing home. How good can it get if Prime turns his impressive resources to the task of making my parents comfortable?
I could have a future. I could move out, move on, and all without feeling an ounce of guilt.
This is my escape. This is my only chance.
“I can’t.” I grind out the words, trembling as I say them. “It’s forever. It’s for… for too long… you don’t even want me…”
“Marry me. Five years, no longer. And I’ll financially support you and your parents for as long as you all live. Please, Deanna. Marry me.”
Fuck.
Fuck him.
