Love Lost: Mafia Story

Chapter 34

The room was cast in a soft, ethereal glow as I sat beside Damien, my fingers tracing the contours of his jawline as he slept soundly. My gaze lingered on the scars that marred his otherwise strong and alluring physique, remnants of the pain he had endured. My heart ached as my fingers brushed over the whip marks that had healed poorly, a testament to the cruelty he had faced.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I continued to trace the scars, my touch gentle and reverent. A sense of protectiveness surged within me, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of anger at the injustice of it all. My cool hand rested over his chest, as if offering solace to the tormented soul within him.

In his slumber, Damien's hand found mine on his chest, his fingers curling around my palm and tugging me towards him. I let out a startled shriek as his arm wrapped around me, pulling me into the warmth of his embrace. Laughter bubbled up from my lips as he nuzzled against me like a contented cat, his grip secure.

I settled into his embrace, feeling the reassuring beat of his heart against my cheek as I held him just as tightly. The intimacy of the moment washed over me, and for a while, I allowed myself to savor the closeness, the sense of safety he provided.

Eventually, I extricated myself from his embrace, chuckling as he let out a playful whine, protesting my departure. With an exaggerated roll of my eyes, I reached for a nearby first aid kit, knowing that he needed his bandages changed. He groaned and buried his head in the pillow, clearly not thrilled about the prospect of tending to his wounds.

However, I knew just the right leverage to use. "Ice cream," I sang in a sing-song voice, earning a muffled groan from him as he relented. I deftly changed the bandages, taking care to be as gentle as possible. Once I was done, Damien looked up at me with an amused smile. "You've been crying," he observed, his eyes soft with concern.

I scoffed playfully, my hand instinctively reaching up to my cheek to check for any lingering traces of tears. Before I could react, he swatted my hand away, his touch both comforting and exasperating. "Relax, it's not that obvious," he reassured me, his expression tender.

I rolled my eyes, masking my vulnerability with a show of defiance. "So what if I was?" I retorted, feeling a mixture of annoyance and gratitude at his perceptiveness. In a swift motion, he pulled on a hoodie and turned to face me. He patted his leg, an unspoken invitation for me to sit on his lap.

I scooted further away, embarrassment creeping in as I tried to distance myself from the closeness that threatened to engulf us. This wasn't part of the plan, and I couldn't afford to get tangled up in Damien's embrace again. "It's none of your business," I replied curtly, my gaze averting from his as I struggled to maintain my resolve.

Damien's gaze held a mixture of amusement and curiosity as he countered my deflection. "So what is my business then?" he prodded, his tone playful yet laced with a deeper layer of interest. I shifted uncomfortably, caught off guard by his persistence.

With a determined sigh, I turned my attention to him and squared my shoulders. "Actually, there is something," I admitted, my voice steadier than I felt. He leaned closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes, his lips quirking into a teasing smile. "Yes, butterfly?" he purred, his warm breath tickling my skin.

My hand instinctively swatted at his cheek, an unconscious reflex to his endearing nickname. "Don't call me that," I retorted, though a small smile tugged at the corner of my lips. His laughter danced in the air, a sound that was both infuriating and oddly comforting.

I cleared my throat, my resolve strengthening as I prepared to broach a topic that had been weighing on my mind. "So, you know how I visited my grandfather recently?" I began, and Damien nodded, his expression growing more attentive. Encouraged by his interest, I continued to explain the intricate concept of the ring, outlining its history and significance.

As I spoke, Damien's brow furrowed slightly, his features reflecting a mixture of surprise and intrigue. His fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on my thigh as he absorbed the information. When I finally finished, he looked up at me, his gaze intense and thoughtful.

"You're telling me that your grandfather wants you to lead a group of assassins?" he summarized, his voice a mix of disbelief and fascination. I nodded, confirming his understanding. "It sounds almost surreal," he mused, his fingers stilling against my thigh.

"Yeah, I know," I agreed, a mix of uncertainty and excitement swirling within me. "But he believes it could give us a level of influence we've never had before." I watched his reaction closely, waiting for his opinion on the matter.

Damien's eyes met mine, his gaze searching as he considered my words. After a moment, a slow smile tugged at his lips, the expression both enigmatic and alluring. "You're always one for stepping into the unknown, aren't you, Harv?" he remarked, a playful edge to his voice.

I shrugged, my heart beating a little faster at his reaction. "I guess I've never been one to shy away from a challenge," I replied, my voice laced with determination. Damien's smile widened, and he leaned in closer until our noses were almost touching.

"Well then," he murmured, his gaze intense as he held my gaze. "Count me in, butterfly." I couldn't help but blush at the endearing nickname that slipped from his lips. In that moment, as our eyes locked and a shared understanding passed between us, I felt a sense of unity that transcended words.