CHAPTER 24 #2
He removes the blindfold, and it takes a minute for my eyes to adjust. Once they do, I attempt to look around to see where the hell I am, but I can’t. Because as soon as my eyes see Damián, I can’t see anything else.
It’s as if he has become the gravitational center of my entire existence.
And just like me, he looks tired and sad. His light brown eyes are hazy, his skin pale, and his usual stubble has overgrown into an almost beard.
“You kidnapped me? And then tied me to a chair?”
Damián leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest, and the bastard doesn’t look the slightest bit apologetic.
“Technically, the twins, Tae and Alexios, kidnapped you.”
I narrow my eyes, staring at him as he walks closer.
“Fine, I kidnapped you and then tied you,” he says, sitting down at the coffee table in front of me. “I had to. Otherwise, you would’ve run away from me.”
“Of course I would’ve run away!” I try to move, but the rope around my wrists keeps me in place.
Damián leans closer, invading my space, and a fresh wave of absolute panic rises in my chest.
Oh crap… he looks angry.
“You are not leaving me.”
“I’m not good for you or your family, Damián.” I throw the words out desperately, hoping mentioning his family will finally knock some sense into him.
He needs to understand why I have to walk away. He needs to understand that being with me is not safe.
Instead, his expression turns even angrier than before.
“Don’t ever fucking say that again, Oliver.”
“Dami…” My voice cracks, and I rip my gaze away, fighting hard to hold back my tears. “Please. Your family was attacked. You got shot. And Bjorn almost died.”
“I always get shot at. And Bjorn always almost dies.” He lets out a dark, breathless laugh.
“It’s not funny.”
“It is a little bit.”
I look away, and he puts his hands on my knees.
“Oliver, I appreciate that you are trying to protect me, but the only one who can decide what is best for me is me.”
“Damián…”
“I want you as a man; I want you in my life; I want you in every sense of the word.”
“But—”
“I love you, Oliver,” he says, and my entire world stops.
Damián loves me? I gasp.
He loves me…
My body trembles with an unknown energy, a feeling I’ve never experienced before. My stomach flutters, and my chest swells as if my skin is the only thing preventing me from bursting like a firework.
I’m so happy I feel giddy, and my eyes fill with tears.
And I never thought it was physically possible to be any happier than I am right now. At least, not until Damián stands up from the coffee table and drops down to one knee.
“Oh… my God…”
He smiles, his eyes looking at me with an absolute certainty and a vulnerability that makes my knees weak.
“Oliver West, I love you with everything I have, for everything you are. And I want to spend the rest of my life making sure you are as happy as you make me.”
He reaches into his jacket pocket, pulls out a small velvet box, and flips it open.
I gasp.
Holy shit, this is really happening…
Inside the box is the most gorgeous ring I have ever seen. It isn’t gold or platinum; this ring is forged from black Damascus steel, with a fine line made of hundreds of tiny pieces of crushed red opal running straight through the middle.
“Please marry me, Oliver,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine.
Tears burn in my eyes, turning my vision blurry.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m kneeling, mi amor,” he laughs. “Of course I’m freaking sure.”
“But Dami, my life will become very dangerous from now on.”
“In that case, what’s better than having a former CIA agent and Harknett as a future hubby?” He winks, and I laugh. “Marry me, mi amor.”
Slipping my hands from the rope behind my back, I launch myself at him. We tumble together to the floor, and I kiss him with everything I have.
My fingers run through his gorgeous brown hair, tears spilling down my cheeks as I feel his smile against my lips.
“I love you too,” I cry out against his mouth.
Damián holds me tight, burying his face in my neck as he laughs. “So, is this a yes?”
“Absolutely!”
“Wait…” Still holding my hand, he guides me up until we are kneeling together. He looks down at our fingers. “How did you untie your hands?
“Babe, I’m the son of the worst trafficker and drug dealer in the world. I’ve known how to untie my hands since I was fourteen.”
He bursts out laughing, and I smack his shoulder.
“Focus and continue, Damián!”
Still smiling, he takes my left hand and slides the stunning ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly, and it’s so beautiful I can’t stop watching it.
Reaching into his pocket again, he pulls out a second box. Opening it reveals an identical black Damascus steel ring, but instead of red opal, the center line is made with hundreds of crushed emeralds. He takes out the ring and slides it onto his finger.
I look from his hand to my hand. “Your ring’s line has emeralds?”
“Yeah…” Damián smiles, looking down at the rings. “They are our favorite colors. I thought this way I could always have a part of you with me,” he says, his thumb sliding over the red line of my ring, “and you can always have a part of me.”
I stare at the rings. The deep red on my ring represents him, while the brilliant green on his represents me.
“I can change the colors if you want to use the emerald one, I don’t—”
I grab the fabric of his shirt, pull, and shut him up with a kiss, pouring every ounce of my love into it so he knows, without a single doubt, that everything he just gave me is absolutely perfect.
“Don’t ever leave me, Oliver,” he begs against my lips.
“I won’t.”
“And if you need help or there is something to be worried about, I want you to stop for a bit and, instead of running away, you talk to your future hubby.”
I laugh and kiss him again. “Will do, future hubby.”
Damián gently breaks the kiss. Without letting go, he shifts back onto the edge of the table and pulls me onto his lap. “Can I ask you something else?”
“Anything.”
He points a finger at the clear plastic IV bag hanging from a coat rack next to me, where the guys must have hooked it. “What the fuck is that?”
“An IV bag.”
“Yeah, amor, I got that part, but why do you have it?”
“Turns out I have a deficiency.”
“Of what?”
“Everything?” I shrug, and his brow arches. “I don’t know! Tae looked at me like I was actively dying, so I just agreed to it.”
Damián’s lips twitch into a smile. He leans forward, hooking both arms around my waist, and pulls me down into his lap.
“Do you feel like you’re dying?” he asks, his hands sliding under my shirt and caressing my back.
“Not anymore.”
“Good.” He moves his hand, his fingers trailing the tape that’s holding the IV in place. “Would it be okay if I remove it?”
“Does it get in the way?”
“Entirely.”
“Please remove it, Dami.”
Damián presses a quick kiss to my cheek, and I curl my legs around his waist as he lifts me up, grabbing my IV bag with his free hand before carrying me over to the kitchen counter.
“Wait here,” he says, disappearing down a short hallway.
While I wait for him to come back, I finally have the time and space to actually pay attention to where I am.
The apartment is incredibly cozy, and nothing like the cold, uncomfortable penthouse he used for his cover.
Here, the lighting is warm, the furniture is comfortable and inviting, and the walls are lined with shelves full of books, records, and pictures.
Or rather… family pictures.
I see María, Fernanda, and Carlitos in most of the frames. There are also pictures of a handsome older man who looks just like Damián, and plenty of shots of the Harknett team.
Oh, my God… is this Damián’s real place?!
“See anything you like?” Damián asks, coming back carrying a first-aid box under his arm.
“Is this… your actual place?”
“Yes.” Damián stretches my arm and presses a cotton ball over the IV. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.”
“Small sting,” he says, and I flinch as he removes the IV and places medical tape over the cotton ball. “Good?”
I move my arm, bend and stretch the elbow, and even though it feels a bit tender, I feel greater than ever.
“It’s perfect,” I tell him.
Damián moves between my legs and pulls me closer.
“Can I look around your apartment?”
“You mean our apartment?”
“Our?”
Damián taps his fingertip over my engagement ring. “If you want to, it’s ours.”
“Then, can I look around our apartment?” I ask, and he smiles.
With a soft kiss, Damián curls his arms around my waist and lifts me down from the counter.
“Feel free to look anywhere you want.” He moves away so I can pass, and I swear I feel like a kid in Disneyland.
…Not that I ever went to Disney while I was a kid, but when I was twenty-one, I went with Zara, and it was freaking amazing.
So the feeling still stands.
My first stop is the kitchen, where I pace around, looking at his collection of cups, his tiny spoons, and the weird amount of flavored chips he has.
I pull open the enormous refrigerator and blink, staring at the shelves as a laugh breaks out of me.
“Damián, the fridge is nothing but protein shakes, chicken breasts, which are also protein, and a ridiculous amount of cake.”
“What are you talking about?” he asks, pointing at a bunch of glass bottles on the top shelf. “There’s also salsa.”
“Oh, my bad! The salsas change everything.”
“Do they?”
“No.” I glare at him and close the fridge. “We are definitely going to have to work on your grocery shopping.”
He chuckles, stepping in close enough that his chest brushes my shoulder. “If you want, I’ll fill the fridge with nothing but green.”
“You mean it?”
“Anything to make you happy, amor.”
I tilt my head, trapping him. “Even if that green is Brussels sprouts?”
“Ugh,” he grunts, clutching his chest dramatically. “Not even a day, and you’re already testing my love for you.”
“Ass.” I shove his shoulder, and he laughs, catching my wrist mid-air and spinning me around.
I try to step back, but Damián pins me, my chest pressing against the fridge, and his body crowding into mine.
“You were saying?” he whispers in my ear, and then bites my neck softly.