Page 55 of Blind Devotion (Letters of Ruin #1)

All four faculty members on the panel of judges applauded the end of Tessa’s violin solo performance of Bach’s “Chaconne.” Alone in the spotlight, she radiated.

She was brilliant, all passion and soul when she lost herself to the music.

I felt every note in my chest, and I knew that they all felt it too.

There was no way they didn’t concede her admittance.

She was a born musician and, in time, a composer of her own pieces.

She deserved this, and she was going to get it, no matter what I had to do.

She bowed onstage, then exited stage right without any fanfare, humble to a fault when it came to her music.

The Lyon National High Conservatory director at my side slapped the back of the seat in front of him.

“Impressive.”

We sat in the dark at the back of the auditorium to avoid notice.

As this was a one-time exception to the conservatory’s strict admittance regulations, I insisted he sit with me through her audition from the technical and theory examinations to her individual performance.

He needed to understand how crucial this was.

“So?” I asked him, needing confirmation.

“Wherever did you find her?”

“At a funeral when I was eleven,” I stated cooly, not seeing what difference that made. “Will you admit her or not?”

“Does she read braille music notations?”

“Not yet, but there are two months until the start of the term. She’ll learn.”

“She better.” He scratched at his beard. “I’ll allow her admittance, and we’ll accommodate her disability, but she will need to keep up. Otherwise, she won’t make it past the first semester.”

“She’ll surprise you.” As she did me, every day.

With my men and Erel standing guard, Alizé and Thibault—who’d driven over for the occasion—surrounded Tessa backstage, congratulating her amidst the flow of personnel working through final preparations and equipment review for tomorrow’s concert.

She nodded at their praise, cheeks flushed, head down, while reverently laying her violin back in its case.

Her fingers feathered over the instrument.

I imagined those fingers on me, remembering our lovemaking that morning, and feeling irrationally upset to share that touch with her violin. I shook my head. Here I was, jealous of a damn instrument, or perhaps those were my nerves acting up at what I was about to do before this coterie of people.

Her floral dress sleeked down her body to her knees in a mix of classy grace and sexy temptress. Her long braid of black and blonde strands rested over her shoulder, making me wish we were anywhere but in public so I could wrap it around my fist and tug her to me.

“I made dinner reservations before we head back home,” I said, breaking up their huddle. It was at my favorite establishment for fine dining whenever I visited Lyon, something I craved to share with Tessa.

Tessa’s head popped up in my direction, something soft and reverent in her gaze.

“Then…I guess we’ll see you there,” Alizé said with a waggle of her brows and a hint of innuendo in her voice.

That only made the flush of Tessa’s cheeks grow darker.

While my sister and brother pulled back, they didn’t leave completely.

They hung back with the rest of our crew, watching as I took hold of the love of my life’s hands and got down on one knee.

A hush went through the space, auditorium personnel freezing to watch, but I kept my eyes solely on the woman who held the power to crush my heart in her fist.

This morning, I felt a shift in the way she loved me, like she finally let herself fully go in our relationship. I knelt there, hopeful this was it.

“Persetta Iannelli, I love you. I have loved you for longer than I was willing to admit to myself. For years, I’ve felt like something was missing.

There was a hole that nothing and no one could fill.

It was eating me up and spreading its void like an infection.

Until you came back into my life. Until you filled it and completed me.

You mended what I didn’t know was broken.

I’m not a good man, but for you, I will be the best man you could ever have.

You’ve stolen such a large piece of my soul that I am, and forever will be, completely and utterly devoted to you. ”

Her eyes glistened, and her lips parted on a shaky exhale.

“Over the past few weeks, I’ve gone and demanded your hand in marriage enough times that the words may sound routine. But today, I’m asking. Something you know I don’t do often.”

She tittered, grinning.

“Will you be my wife? Will you stand beside me for the rest of our lives and be mine, past death do us part?”

She kneeled before me, her eyes only reaching up to my nose. My heart was strumming in my chest, already expecting another refusal. My mind whirred with how else to woo her into understanding how serious I was.

“Adrien.” She cupped my jaw and cheek. “If I get admitted, we’re talking three years of studies for my diploma.”

I turned my head and kissed her palm. “I’ve already purchased an apartment downtown. We can live here, and I’ll fly back south when necessary. I’ll be wherever you are. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

She smiled wide and bright. “Who said I wanted to?”

“Tessa,” I ground out, my patience wearing thin. My temple rested on hers. “Give me an answer.”

“I thought you said you were done demanding.”

I growled at her. “You do realize who you are talking to.”

“Yes, my forever grumpy Adrien.” She traced over my scar and lowered her voice. “My killer. My big bad bossman. The man I love. The only person I would ever marry. Now take out that ring that must be burning a hole in your pocket and put it on my finger so I can promise never to take it off.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Now who’s the demanding one?”

“Don’t lie. You love a little fire.”

“From you. Only from you.”

I kissed her softly and slipped the ring over her finger.

Emeralds, the color of her eyes, surrounded the diamond center stone and led down to the gold band meshed with tresses of more emeralds and diamonds.

It was as beautiful and as intricate as its owner, both to the eye and to the touch, the design as unique as her.

A perfect blend of artistry, radiance, and fortitude for the woman who won over my black heart, not once but twice.

“I love you, Tessa.”

“I love you, too.”