Damian Isabella was a different story. Roman had spoken with her and told her the reason for the meeting. Maybe it was vanity, a feeling of being acknowledged as head of the DeMarco family, because for all intents and purposes, she was. We just underestimated the DeMarco family’s level of activity. It was stupid on our part. Isabella would be here bright and early, as anxious as me to put this behind her, now that she realized what she could have lost. I had Tony taken to a bedroom downstairs, knowing he would raise hell wherever he was just because he was Tony and he was piss drunk. Roman remained with my father while I went to check on Tony’s progress. “You are not boss yet,” was the greeting he threw at me when I walked into the bedroom. “You at least smell a little better,” I said, tossing one of my dress shirts at him. “Put this on.” I had changed too, wearing a suit minus the jacket. “You want me looking respectable for those assholes?” he asked, but he took it. “I know abo
Hope. Damian.Damian, no!” I held his face with one hand and pressed my other hand to the place on his side that wouldn’t stop bleeding. I kissed him. Kissed him and kissed him. When I tried to push the hair back from his forehead, I left blood in its place. His blood. God, there was so much of it. Too much. “Don’t die on me please. ” He hadn’t promised me that. He had made me three promises, but he had never promised me he wouldn’t die. I had never asked him to promise that. I had never… “Don’t die,” I whispered just to him. He was too still, and when my sister touched my shoulder, and I looked up at her through the blur the haze of my tears caused, I sucked in a trembling breath. Her face, the look in her eyes, telling me it was bad. “There is a helicopter on its way to take him to the hospital,” she whispered, kneeling down beside me, holding me when I turned my attention back to him. They would take him away. They would take him away, and I would never see him again. Why
Damian. I probably dreamed Hope calling herself pigheaded, but it made me smile all the same. And every time I opened my eyes, there she was, sitting by my side. At first, she still had blood on her. My blood. Then she looked like she had showered and changed. I saw Roman too, but she was my constant. She had remembered what I had said. What I had promised her. I vaguely recalled her voice, telling me I hadn’t yet kept the promise to give her the life she wanted. I had changed rooms. I knew it from the way the light came in the window. I wasn’t sure how long I had been in the hospital until finally, I opened my eyes, feeling a little less groggy, and the things around me didn’t seem so like a mirage. Was it a mirage? Was Hope a mirage? “Hey.” I looked up at her beautiful, smiling face. She still sat in the same place, holding my hand, watching me. “Hey.” It felt strange to speak. “How do you feel?” “Like I have been run over by a truck.” “Do you remember what happened?” My
Hope. Damian moved into a bedroom downstairs while he recovered. I slept beside him, taking care not to touch the still tender spot the bullet had ripped into. I knew he felt pain, but he insisted on less and less medication, saying he could manage it. Within a day of being home, he could walk on his own to the bathroom, although it wore him out. “I hate this,” he grumbled a week later after one of his visits to the bathroom. “I hate being weak.” I tucked the blanket up to his waist. “You are getting stronger every day.” “Not fast enough.” “You hate having someone else take care of you. You are so used to taking care of everyone and everything and being in charge of it all but can’t stand to be in a position where you need others yourself.” He studied me, then looked beyond me to the waning light outside the window. “Let’s sit outside.” “I’ll get your wheelchair.” I had already stood to unfold it. He hadn’t used it except for the time they had rolled him in here in it. “No.”
Damian. I kept my promise to Hope. Roman came to the house the following morning and handed me the initial contract she and I had signed. I set it aside and had him draw up another one. This one forgave any and all debt any DeMarco owed any spears , real or perceived, and the two families were no longer bound in any way. And it could not be overturned at any time in the future. I signed it and had a copy sent to Isabella. I would deliver a copy to my father personally. This insane vendetta was finished. I ended it as one of the two things I did during my hours long rule over the spears family before I gave everything the reign, the rule, the power over to Roman. It was another week before I could move back upstairs to my own bedroom and another month before I was fully healed. All that time, Hope stayed with me, caring for me like I didn’t remember ever being cared for by anyone apart from my mother. I also saw Naya and Kyle. She came to give me the news she too was moving away, a
79. Mia glanced at her phone when it chimed to let her know she had a new text message. She was unsurprised to see her father’s number listed. As she started to delete it without reading, she saw part of the message: Must see you now. Urg… Devoid of a flicker of guilt, she removed it without reading past the preview. He’d been texting and calling for several days, and he would eventually realize she wanted nothing to do with him. Slipping the phone back into her purse, she considered changing her number before discarding the idea. He’d be able to find it again if she did. Her father had a number of dubious contacts living in his shadow world that could easily find a new number, so what was the point? He would eventually go away. Vadim Kasilli had no trouble forgetting he had a daughter most of the time, so whatever his purpose for trying to reach her, he’d surely give up soon. Entering the restaurant where she worked the evening shift as a server, Mia left her things in the break
80. The gun prodded her lower back. “Then do so, miss, before Mr. O’Mara grows too impatient.” The fear in the goon’s voice fed her own. Mia forced her feet to move as she walked between the two thugs. The beauty of the marble steps didn’t impress her any more than the ornate ivory columns. She was too busy dreading her meeting with the mysterious Mr. O’Mara to be impressed by the architecture of his palatial home. The entryway and halls passed in a blur of elegant wallpaper and gleaming marble floors her flats tapped against briskly as the goons hurried her along. When they finally reached the end of a long hallway, her heart was racing from a combination of fear and exertion, since she’d had to take two steps for their one. “Knock, Wallace.” Knowing the brunette’s name didn’t put her at ease. She clenched her hands into fists as he knocked before opening the door. Mia glared at Bruno when he herded her inside roughly. She was several steps into the room before she st
81. Mia’s stomach curled with dread, and something less tangible, when he grasped a strand of her hair to let it spill between his fingers. “You aren’t doing anything to me. I don’t care what crooked deal you have with my father.” His eyes narrowed. “Make no mistake, Mia. I will go to war if I have to. I will destroy your family and burn down the city to have you.” She shivered at the threat, but shrugged. “I don’t give a damn what you do to Vadim.” “And your stepbrother?” Mia couldn’t hide her distaste. “I’d love to watch you rip him apart.” Shane blinked, clearly not expecting that. “I see. Let me try a different approach then.” With the suddenness of a striking snake, he jerked her against him. “You are mine. You won’t be leaving until I release you. I’m going to fuck you a thousand ways, starting tonight.” She had been frozen with fear for a second, but the paralysis broke when he said fuck. Mia flinched and tried to struggle free of his grip. It tightened painfull