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I’ve never seen a girl look so powerful. I don’t want her powerful. I want to destroy everything she knows and loves.
Though I want no connection with her, though we have nothing in common . . . I see the same loneliness in her eyes.
I think, without saying it, that fealty cannot be demanded. It can only be exchanged between two people, freely and willingly. Marko has never understood that. He wants what he himself cannot give. Because deep down, his only loyalty is to himself.
“How much money did he take from you?” she asks. “I’ll pay you back every cent.” My father looks at her, his eyes dark as flint. “Money can’t repay what was taken,” he says. Nix trembles under his stare, but she holds his gaze. “What can I offer, then?” she says. “You can offer yourself,” my father says. “Your mind, your body, your soul, your loyalty, your life . . . to my son.”
“Until Rafe buys you a better ring,” my father says. He pulls the gold ring off the pinky of his right hand, slipping it onto the third finger of Nix’s left.
“Our fathers shape us,” Sloane said, zipping her case. “But it’s our husbands who determine what we truly become. And us them. A couple is the sum of both of you together—as strong as you are together. As happy as you are together.”