Chapter 10 - Say It Again, Slower
Six months later, spring had arrived in Manhattan.
The Central Park trees were blooming in vibrant pink and white, framing the skyline in soft sunshine.
On the private roof garden of Damian’s Tribeca penthouse, a small, intimate dinner was being held under a canopy of warm fairy lights and white roses.
Sitting at the long mahogany table was Mara, looking healthy and beautiful, laughing as she watched five-year-old Lily run around the terrace with a bubble machine provided by Marco. Lily’s cheeks were rosy, her heart strong, and her laughter echoing over the city.
At the far end of the terrace stood Evelyn.
She was wearing a emerald green silk dress that swept the floor, her dark hair hanging in soft curls over her shoulders. In her hand, she held a letter sent from the Dean of NYU Law School.
It was her official acceptance into the school’s prestigious Honors Federal Defender Clinic, paired with a full academic scholarship funded by an anonymous donor.
A pair of warm, strong arms wrapped around her waist from behind.
Damian pulled her back against his broad chest, resting his chin gently on her shoulder, his cedar fragrance surrounding her like a familiar, comforting shield.
“What are you reading?” he asked softly, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.
“My future,” she murmured, leaning back into his heat. “The Dean says I have a promising career in tearing prosecutors apart.”
Damian chuckled softly, a low rumble against her back. “I could have told him that six months ago.”
Evelyn turned around in his embrace, resting her hands against his crisp white dress shirt, looking up into the handsome face of the man who had changed her life completely.
Russo was in federal prison serving twenty years for extortion. The docks were quiet, safe, and prosperous. And the Devil of the East River had become the most devoted, protective partner a woman could ever dream of.
“The twenty-one days ended a long time ago, Mr. Moretti,” she murmured playfully, her eyes shining under the terrace lights.
Damian reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small velvet box.
He didn't get down on one knee. He held her eyes with his—gray, constant, and filled with a love that had no end.
He opened the box.
Inside sat a pear-cut pink diamond ring, surrounded by a halo of small, brilliant white stones that caught the moonlight like captured stars.
“I don't care about twenty-one days, Evelyn,” Damian whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he slipped the ring onto her left ring finger. “I want twenty-one thousand days. I want every law you write, every fight you pick, and every night in my arms.”
Evelyn looked down at the ring shining on her finger, then up at the man who held her heart in his hands.
She smiled—a slow, mesmerizing, dangerous curve of her mouth that matched his perfectly.
She reached up, took his lapels in her hands, and pulled his head down to hers.
“Yes,” she whispered against his lips.
“Yes what?” Damian murmured, his gray eyes sparkling with dark amusement as he held her close against his heart.
Evelyn leaned close to his ear, her warm breath tickling his skin, and repeated the words that had started it all on that rainy night in the basement of the Obsidian Room.
“Yes... baby.”
Damian froze.
Then his mouth curved into that devastating, asymmetric smile that had silenced a room full of armed men six months ago.
May you like
He tightened his arms around her waist, lifting her off her feet as he leaned down and whispered softly against her mouth:
“Say it again, slower.”
