chapter 9
Our wedding was held on the private island Damian had bought in my name.
Blue ocean.
White sand.
A sky so bright it looked unreal.
My mother worked with a top designer to create a custom gown for me, all layered silk and hand-set diamonds that shimmered like stars whenever I moved.
My father walked me down the aisle with suspiciously wet eyes while pretending he absolutely was not emotional.
Under an arch of white flowers, Damian waited for me in a tailored black suit, looking calm only if you ignored the way his fingers flexed every few seconds.
When he took my hand, all of that composure shattered into something softer.
More vulnerable.
More human.
In front of everyone who loved us, he put the ring on my finger and promised me a lifetime of loyalty, devotion, and a love strong enough to outlive death itself.
The internet lost its mind in the best possible way.
The whole world seemed to bless us.
And somewhere far away, in a prison cell, Lily heard the news.
She finally broke completely.
From what I was told, she screamed until her voice gave out. She raged that she hadn’t lost. That if she got one more chance, she would definitely beat me next time.
But there would be no next time.
No second mirror.
No second choice.
No second life.
That night, in our bridal suite, Damian was no longer the restrained older brother who had spent years pretending he didn’t want me too much.
He wrapped himself around me like he had waited lifetimes for the right to stop holding back.
Against my ear, his voice turned rough.
“Do you know something, Claire?”
I trembled in his arms.
“What?”
“On your eighteenth birthday, when I first realized the truth about some of what you were carrying… I wasn’t angry. I was happy.”
I blinked up at him.
“Happy?”
He nodded, pressing a slow kiss to my temple.
“Because it meant I didn’t have to hide anymore. I didn’t have to pretend my possessiveness was just brotherly concern. I decided that night I was going to marry you. Everything after that was just preparation.”
Memory clicked into place.
The random guests at my birthday party who had started calling us a perfect match.
The timing.
The whispers.
The atmosphere.
I stared at him.
“You arranged that?”
A very slight, very self-satisfied smile touched his mouth.
“From that night on,” he said, “I began teaching the world to see you beside me.”
I started laughing through the tears already gathering in my eyes.
“So you were the best actor of all.”
He kissed my ear.
“Only when it came to you.”
Then his arms tightened around me, and his voice dropped into something deep and contented and full.
“This life,” he whispered, “I can finally protect you.”
I laced my fingers with his.
Warmth filled every corner of me.
“Yes,” I whispered back. “You can.”
And this time, no one could take that away from us.