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Living in fear is the most exhausting thing I’ve ever had to do.
Seeing her so upset makes me want to die.
“What now?” I ask. “Are you going to serve me dessert?” Damiano’s palms wrap around my waist. “Not unless you’re offering yourself up as one.”
Without it, I’d be a completely different man. A better man. A weaker man.
It’s a bitter, painful end to something that was never destined to be a love story.
“Oh, I respect her. Very much. She’s done the impossible. She’s brought you to your knees.”
“But I don’t want you to leave. Stay with me, Vale. Stay with me, and you’ll never have to fight another battle again. I’ll fight them for you. I’ll protect you. I’ll avenge you.”
I’m not a romantic. I refuse to believe in love. In my experience, it’s toxic and makes people do stupid, unforgivable things.

