Chapter 17 - The Refusal
“Stop right there, Damian Blackwood,” Harper commanded, her voice ringing with the same absolute authority she had used outside the diner.
Damian froze, his hand on the doorknob.
Harper pushed the covers aside and stood up. Her ribs ached, her face was bruised, but she marched across the room and grabbed his arm, forcing him to face her.
“You don't get to make that decision for me,” Harper said, her eyes blazing. “I survived a crumbling roof. I survived working double shifts on a shattered knee. And I survived a Russian mob boss. Do you really think I’m too weak to survive your world?”
“Harper, it’s not about your strength. It’s about your safety.”
“My safety is with you!” she yelled, poking him hard in the chest. “I didn't fall in love with a saint. I fell in love with a man who burned down a city to find me. You think sending me away protects me? It destroys me. If you put me on that plane, you are the one breaking my heart, not the mafia.”
Damian stared down at her, his chest heaving. The logic of his ruthless world was crumbling under the weight of her fierce, unyielding devotion.
“I’m dangerous, Harper,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers.
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“Then we’ll be dangerous together,” she vowed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m not leaving you, Damian. So you better figure out how to rule this city without putting a target on my back, because I’m staying.”
Damian groaned, a sound of absolute defeat and overwhelming relief. He pulled her against him, kissing her fiercely. She had shattered his walls, defied his enemies, and now, she had conquered his fear.
