Page 80 of King of Pain (Damaged Hearts #1)

Greatest Love of All

Anthony

I fold the letter carefully, my fingers trembling as I smooth it flat in my lap. When I finally lift my gaze, Chance is watching me with a soft, open look—the one that always undoes me.

I swipe the tears from my cheeks and murmur, “It’s like she knew.”

Chance nods, voice low. “She did.”

I look down again at the letter, at her handwriting that feels like a hug from beyond.

Chance reaches across, his palm warm and solid as it covers my shaking hand.

I swallow thickly. “Of all days—” My voice catches, too raw to finish the thought.

Chance squeezes my hand gently. “I know.”

Then he rises from the couch, holding his hand out to me, eyes still soft but shining with something else now. Hope. A little mischief.

“Come here. I have something to show you.”

I give him a shaky laugh. “I don’t know if there’s anything more I can take today.”

But when he wiggles his fingers at me in invitation, there’s no question. I slide my hand into his without hesitation and follow him, one thought grounding me through the swirl of emotion: I’ll never not follow him.

Chance leads me across the living room, stopping outside the spare room—his studio.

He swings the door open and steps aside.

I peer in, expecting a new painting in progress, but my heart stills the second I gaze inside.

His art supplies have been neatly stacked and tucked away in the corner, making space for something else entirely: a crib.

I flip on the lights and walk over to get a better look. It’s a beautiful dark mahogany, intricate carvings along the headboard. A soft blue pad inside, printed with tiny vinyl records. A mobile of musical notes spins slowly above it.

All I can do is stare.

My brain is struggling to form words.

“When—” I manage, voice hoarse.

Chance gives a soft laugh. “I had it delivered a couple days ago. Kept the door shut while I built it. It’s a miracle you didn’t wander in and ruin the surprise.”

I turn to him, placing both hands on his chest, gripping the fabric of his T-shirt to steady myself. His heart is racing beneath my palms.

“I love it,” I whisper. I search his eyes, my heart full of so much I can’t even put words to. “You’re going to be the most incredible father, you know that?”

His throat bobs as he swallows. “What if I’m—”

I cut him off, voice firm. “You’re nothing like him, Chance.”

“But how do you know? You can’t know—”

I shake my head, cutting him off again, cupping the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair. “I know. I know because of the lengths you’ve gone to for the people you love. The way you love, Chance Sullivan? I pity the fool who ever tries to mess with our kids.”

A low rumble grows in his chest, and I smirk. “See? The buns aren’t even in the oven yet and your protective instincts are already in overdrive.”

“Oh fuck, what are we going to do if both Jen and Lexi’s inseminations take?”

I laugh. “I already told you—we’re getting a bigger house. It’s not like we can’t afford a few kids.”

He gulps. “A few?”

I press a soft kiss to his lips. “Well... I love that we’ll have at least one with our genetics running around. But if we have the means, I think we should adopt at some point too. There are kids out there who need a leg up in this cold world.”

His whole expression softens, and in a voice that makes my chest ache, he whispers, “There’s nothing I would deny that heart of yours, Beautiful.”

A grin tugs at my lips. I drag one teasing finger down the center of his chest. “Good.”

Then I fist the front of his shirt, yank him to me, and kiss him filthy and deep, pouring everything into it.

When I break the kiss, our foreheads pressed together, I lower my voice—dark, full of promise.

“Now, I’m giving you ninety seconds to get out of these clothes and into the shower.” Chance’s eyes darken, and I finish with a wicked grin. “Then I’m going to join you... and try to knock you up the old-fashioned way.”

He barks a laugh, but before I can even blink, he’s yanking off his T-shirt, trotting out of the room, kicking his shorts off, those damn white boxer briefs clinging to that perfect ass.

I watch him, laughing, heart so full I swear it could burst.

Fuck. The. Shower.

I might just throw him down and take him right here on the floor.

Chance collapses face-down on the bed, dragging me with him. I land heavy across his back, both of us breathless and glistening with sweat.

He turns his face toward me, lips barely brushing the sheets as he mumbles, “I’ll never get tired of feeling you inside me.”

I hum against his skin and press lazy kisses along his neck, tasting the salt there, then lay one final kiss at the corner of his mouth before shifting onto my side, still nestled deep inside him.

I wrap my arms around his chest, pulling him impossibly closer, pressing my forehead to his shoulder and inhaling the scent of him.

Chance’s hands skim over my arms, fingers finding mine and linking us together.

“Hey, Ant?” he murmurs.

“Yeah?” I answer, voice still wrecked from all the ways we just ravaged each other.

“Did you mean it?”

I kiss the curve of his shoulder. “Mean what?”

Chance squeezes my hand tighter. “When you panic-proposed to me. Is that something you really wanted?”

I freeze for a second, then lean up enough for my voice to be close to his ear. “Absolutely. I mean, that moment was a little...forced, but I think I knew you were my forever the day you walked into Devil Records.”

Chance hums, the sound low and content, and I keep going, heart pounding slow and sure. “Everything happened fast. With the agency, with Thrive. We had to make decisions, fast ones. Especially with Lexi and Beau’s timeline to start their family after his retirement next year.”

Chance’s voice is soft. “Do you feel rushed?”

I laugh, warm and easy. “Not even a little. It feels right.”

He lets out a pleased noise, and I press a kiss behind his ear before saying, “My point is, we never really stopped to think about it. It was just... a given. For me, at least.”

Chance’s only reply is a soft, teasing “Mm.”

I sit up straighter, suspicious. “Wait, do you not want to get married? Because if you think I’m gonna let you drop our kids off at school looking like that without my ring on your finger, you’ve gone and bumped your head, Sullivan.”

The corner of his mouth twitches like he’s fighting a grin. “Mm,” he says again.

I huff out an annoyed laugh and settle back down behind him, curling tight, and just as I close my eyes, I hear:

“Hey, Beautiful?”

I groan playfully. “Yeah?”

“Will you fluff my pillow for me?”

I lift my head, frowning. “What? Why?”

“Wore me out. Too tired. It’s not comfy.”

I scoff and reach out, grumbling as I push at his pillow.

“You can do better than that,” he teases. “Hand under it. Fluff from underneath.”

Rolling my eyes, I lean up, grunting at him, and reach under the pillow—only to feel something hard, unfamiliar. I pause, grip it, and pull it out.

A small black velvet box.

My pulse races as I rise to my knees, staring at it. “What’s this?”

Chance flips over to face me, resting on his elbow, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Dunno. Maybe you should open it.”

I swallow, fingers clumsy, and crack the box open. Inside sits a wide silver band, gleaming and simple, but beautiful. I pluck it out and catch the faint engraving on the inside. My muse.

I look up, and Chance is on his knees now too. He cradles my face in his hands.

“If you think I’m letting you go anywhere without my ring on your finger,” he says, voice low and sure, “you’ve bumped your head harder than me.”

A laugh sputters out of me, shaky and wet.

"Beautiful, you’re like a mixtape the universe made just for me," he says, his gaze pinning mine in place.

"Every one of your different smiles, the way your eyes see through to every part of me.

Those lips. My God, those lips." His voice softens, pure affection threading through.

"All your little quirks. The way you sigh when you’re concentrating too hard. "

Then he drops his voice low, teasing, "Your dick," and waggles his brows with a grin as I bark a laugh.

"But mostly..." His hand comes to rest over my chest, steady and warm. "Mostly, it’s your heart." He moves his hand to gently cradle my cheek, thumb brushing over my skin. "Every single one of these parts of you, Ant—they're all my favorite songs."

Fuck. Me.

I can’t form words.

Chance takes the ring from me—eyes locked on mine. “Now, can I put this on your finger or what?”

I nod fast, grinning through the sting in my eyes.

He slides it on, the band fitting perfectly, and I stare at it, turning my hand in the dim light.

“Shit,” I say, smiling through my tears. “I have to get one for you.”

Chance grins wider. “I think you need to fluff your pillow.”

My brows shoot up as I yank my pillow back and there’s another velvet box waiting underneath.

Laughing, I snatch it up and crack it open. Another silver band, matching mine. No inscription.

I narrow my eyes at him. “It’s blank.”

“Figured you’d want to pick something yourself for mine.”

“It’s like you know me.” I deadpan, and he laughs, ducking his head shyly.

I grab his hand, holding it steady as I slide the ring onto his finger, and before I let go, I say, “It’s going to be the greatest gift of my life—being your husband. Raising our kids together.”

Chance beams at me, one of those smiles that feels like sunshine after a storm, and says, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I breathe.

I draw him in for a kiss, slow and lingering, and when it breaks, I pull him down with me, tangling us up under the covers, spooning close, keeping him pressed against me.

I lie there, holding him, feeling the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his breathing. Thinking about everything it took to get here—the storms we survived, the demons we slayed.

The road wasn’t easy. It was jagged and brutal and often unbearable.

I wouldn’t change a thing.

It made us who we are. Stronger. Better. Freer.

Chance’s breathing evens out and soon he’s asleep, tucked against me.

I close my eyes, and it suddenly strikes me—it used to be, when I laid down at night and closed my eyes, all I could see was them.

Now, when I close my eyes—

All I see is Him.