Page 64 of Damiano De Luca (The Five Syndicates)
Damian had brought up a bottle of whiskey with us, but he hadn’t opened it. He sat on my bed, the bottle resting beside him. To the world, Damian De Luca was educated, filthy rich, and practically owned an entire town.
He controlled the largest continental state in the wealthiest country in the world. While much of that consisted of less-than-legal dealings, his generations old, above board ventures rivaled the biggest old money tycoons in this country. A large portion of De Luca territory included impressive oil lands, and I knew Damian had money and power.
While I saw that power in him, I also saw the parts of him he never let anyone else see. The fractured parts of his broken childhood. Living with him, I’d heard his father beat him with belts, emotionally abuse him, and degrade him over and over again. He’d taken the abuse, his eyes calculated, waiting for a moment to strike. So, I wasn’t surprised to hear that he dethroned his father after I left.
But I knew others had been taken by surprise. Papà had called me, demanding an explanation for the unexpected coup. He couldn’t understand Damian, and I couldn’t explain what others refused to see.
Damian’s patience and strength earned him his throne, but they also pushed aside his equilibrium. Maybe this was the turning point. Maybe he finally let himself break, and I had the privilege of being here to pick up the pieces. Back then, I’d done nothing, but I wouldn’t make that mistake again.
I waited for him to say something. He slid off his suit jacket, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned a few buttons of his shirt. His cufflinks came off next. He tossed them to the side and took his time rolling up his sleeves.
Every move he made felt deliberate, and I knew he didn’t intend for them to turn me on, but they did. My nipples pebbled in anticipation. He was hurting, I was turned on, and our relationship was too messed up for me to process.
“Do you believe in love?” The hoarseness of his voice ripped through the air.
“Damian—”
“I don’t mean us. I mean in general.” His eyes darkened as I hesitated, thinking of all the relationships I’d been privy to. “So, that’s a no.”
“No, I believe in love. I’ve just never seen it in real life.”
Besides ours, which was a fucked-up kind of love if there ever was one.
He read between the lines. “Including ours.”
My hands clutched the nightstand I sat on. “I didn’t say that.”
He gripped his shirt at the row of buttons and yanked, impatiently ripping his shirt apart and the buttons with it. “My mom loved my dad. Actual love. Not the kind you fake or think you have, but the kind you know with every fiber of your being exists.” He strode toward me and stepped between my legs. “I never understood it, but she trusted him with her heart. Do you want to know what he did with it?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “He trampled on it, and then he killed her. My dad killed my mom.”
I shook my head. I’d heard rumors, but they were just rumors. I remembered the phone he’d had clutched in his hands when he approached me at dinner earlier. “Were you on the phone with your dad earlier? Did he tell you this?”
“He said he killed her before she could kill him. Want to know why?”
I shook my head. I really didn’t, but I’d listen because he needed me to. “Why?”
“Because there’s no such thing as love.”
“You don’t mean that.”
He’d always been the one of us who believed in love, giving me time to overcome my fear while he helped me. His words struck anxiety into me, and I felt the shift in my body as I realized that I didn’t have as long as I needed to get my shit together. Things happened. Life changed. If I wanted Damian (and I did), I had to make a move.
His voice was rough and raw. “I told him I love you,”—my hands shook at his revelation—“and he told me there’s no suc
h thing as love.”
“Your dad is a psychopath and a liar.” I shook my head and took the biggest leap I’d ever taken. “I love you, Damian. Love exists, and I know this because I love you.”
I wanted to bring him to me. To hold him. To be the one who renewed his faith in love. Instead, I waited for him to make a move. He didn’t respond to my declaration, and while that cut deep, I persisted.
“Have you ever seen a wolf?” I placed a hand on his chest and leaned into him. “The wolf and the cougar are on the top of the food chain. Whereas the cougar is solitary, the wolf operates in a pack. He is faster, smarter, more ferocious.”
His eyes were hooded, but they focused on me, urging me to continue.
I explored his body with my hands and hooked my legs around him. “The cougar will lose a battle against a wolf, and he will die alone. But the wolf finds his pack. Makes them better. And when he finds his mate, he mates for life, defending her viciously. Loyally. Forever. Until death do them part.”
I used my legs to push him toward me, until his body pressed entirely against mine. “Angelo De Luca may be the cougar, but you are the wolf, Damian. Angelo will die alone, and you will thrive, surrounded by people who are loyal to you and someone who loves you.”
His eyes shuttered before they opened and locked on mine. His hand cupped my face, but the touch was anything but gentle. “Last chance to leave, Princess.”
