Chapter 4 - The Ring and the Razor“Are you out of your absolute mind?!”
Harper’s voice echoed off the minimalist glass walls of the dining suite. She had backed away from him, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
“Marriage? To you?! I don't even know your last name three days ago, and now you want me to play mob wife?!”
“It’s not a request, Harper,” Damian said, his tone shifting instantly from seductive warmth back to absolute, immutable steel. He walked over to the marble table and picked up a small velvet box, flipping it open with his thumb.
Inside rested a ring that took her breath away: a flawless, deep-emerald-cut diamond flanked by twin black sapphires, resting on a band of platinum. It looked less like a symbol of affection and more like a shackle forged in heaven and hell.
“My rivals have been looking for a weakness,” Damian explained calmly, walking toward her again. “A woman I brought into my inner circle, a stranger I allowed to touch me in public—they already think you’re my Achilles' heel. If I let you walk out those gates tonight unmarried and unprotected, you wouldn't survive twenty-four hours before someone tried to use you to get to me.”
Harper stared at the ring, then up into his dark, unyielding eyes. A cold dread settled in her stomach. He wasn't just playing a game; he was backing her into a corner from which there was no escape.
“So your solution is to trap me in your world?!” she demanded, tears of frustration stinging the corners of her eyes. “To make me a target for every rival syndicate in the city?!”
“My solution is to put you behind an iron wall,” Damian corrected, his voice dropping to a harsh, fierce register. “With me. Nobody touches my wife. Nobody even looks at her twice without answering to my syndicate.”
Before she could pull away, Damian took her left hand in his. His grip was unbreakable. With smooth, deliberate precision, he slid the heavy platinum and emerald ring onto her ring finger. It fit with terrifying perfection.
May you like
Harper looked down at her hand, feeling a strange mixture of terror and exhilaration. “I never agreed to this.”
“You agreed the moment you stepped into that alley,” Damian murmured, stepping so close she could feel the heat of his breath against her hair. “Now, sit down. We have a wedding to plan.”
