Chapter 17 - The Real ProposalDante sliced through the thick zip ties binding Clara’s wrists with desperate speed.
He pulled her out of the wooden chair and crushed her against his chest.
Clara buried her face in his neck, sobbing uncontrollably as the adrenaline crashed.
“I have you, I have you,” Dante chanted, pressing furious kisses into her messy hair.
He pulled back just enough to inspect the shallow cut on her collarbone.
His eyes darkened with renewed violence at the sight of her blood.
“He is dead, Dante,” Clara whispered, touching his cheek to ground him.
“It is over.”
Dante shook his head, his hands trembling as he held her face.
“It is never over in this life, Clara.”
“I almost lost you because of my sins.”
He dropped to his knees right there on the filthy, blood-stained concrete of the warehouse.
He looked up at her, ignoring the chaos and the bodies surrounding them.
“The ring on your finger was supposed to be a lie to protect you.”
“But the truth is, I cannot live in a world where you are not mine completely.”
Clara stared down at the ruthless mafia king kneeling at her feet like a devoted servant.
“Clara Miller, will you marry me for real?” he asked, his voice raw and stripped of all pride.
“Will you let me spend the rest of my life trying to be a man worthy of your light?”
Clara looked at the blood on his hands and the absolute devotion in his striking blue eyes.
She knew she was signing away her ordinary life forever.
May you like
“Yes,” she choked out, pulling him up into a desperate, passionate kiss.
“Yes, Dante.”
