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My brows knit together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“You once asked me why I picked you, Cassie. Well that’s the answer. February 18. What were you doing on that date, three years ago?

I frown, “How the hell am I supposed to remember that?”

It must seem very weird. That we’re having a full blown conversation and keeping everyone waiting.

“You’ll remember,” he assures me gently. “But for now, say you’ll marry me. I swear to you that I’ll do anything to make sure you never regret the decision. All you have to do is just trust me,bella.”

I remember the blood on his sleeve. The steel in his voice when he told me I had no choice. But I also remember the way he took care of me two days ago. How attuned he was to what I needed. The way he held me. And the way he’s holding my hand even now.

Despite what has happened in the past two weeks. If I’m being honest, the only times I’ve felt truly safe and calm have been around Damien. He might be a monster. But whether I like it or not, he’s my monster.

“I do,” I whisper, the words coming out more sure than I feel.

He offers me a small smile at that. The rings come next. His fingers are gentle as he slides mine on. My hand fumbles slightly when I return the favor and I think I see the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

Then the priest says it.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

My body goes rigid.

I’d been so wrapped up in surviving the moment, I’d forgotten there was a next one. And this one I haven’t given much thought to. Icy blue eyes find mine, sure and steady.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want me to, Cassie,” he murmurs, stepping closer.

His hand lifts, fingers brushing the side of my face. My breath catches. He doesn’t kiss me right away. He looks at me, like he’s waiting for something. Permission?

Then he speaks, lowly, his voice rumbling through me.

“The things that hurt you can also help you, sweetheart. Nothing in life’s a straight line.”

I’m too frozen to speak, too confused to move, too aware of the hundred pairs of eyes on us. But more than anything, those words strike a chord within me. “Mr. Italian?”

My eyes brighten with recognition. Which is when he leans in.

His lips touch mine, and it isn’t soft. It’s firm, commanding, a little dangerous. Like he’s claiming me in front of everyone. And I kiss him back, with everything in me. Because a part of me has wanted to do this. For much longer than I had realized.

My heart beats with the knowledge of what I’ve just remembered. And I’m filled with understanding. Everything suddenly makes sense.

Kissing him is the only thing tethering me to the present. His mouth parts slightly, just enough for the kiss to deepen. His hand is at my lower back now, pulling me closer, his body solid and warm and maddeningly familiar.

For a few seconds, the church disappears. Everything disappears except the fee of his lips, the heat in his touch and the wild beat o my heart slamming against my ribcage. When he finally pulls back, I’m breathless. Damien looks almost as affected as I feel, disbelief shining in his expression.

Like he can’t believe something like that could feel so right. That a single kiss could awake so much.

The applause rises slowly, measured and formal but all I can hear is my own heartbeat. And I don’t know whether I want to scream or lean in and kiss him again.

I remember.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

DAMIEN

Three Years Ago

I thought I was done with it. A year ago I signed a deal with Gabriel Solis. A mutually beneficial deal. I helped him in saving his company. And he gave his daughter to my family. She’s younger so I figured she’d make a wife for Dante. Fuck knows he needs one.