Chapter 162 - ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY TWO

Chapter 162: Chapter ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY TWO

ANGEL

The beach was entirely deserted.

Damien had bought out the entire resort for the week. A private, luxurious paradise, he’d called it. He had planned every detail long before I even realized a wedding was happening.

I’m getting married.

The realization kept crashing over me in waves. I stared down at the heavy diamond band resting on my left hand, then glanced at my fiancé. The word still felt strange in my mind when linked to a man as insane as Damien.

He was stretched out on the lounge chair beside mine, dark sunglasses concealing his eyes, his chest bare and marked with faint scratches I’d left on him.

"You said you needed fresh air," he said, not turning his head. "Why do you look so tense?"

"I’m fine. It’s gorgeous out here." I looked back toward the water, my heart beating a little too fast.

He was infuriatingly perceptive. He wasn’t even looking at me, yet he could feel my eyes on him from three feet away.

"Is that all? Your mind is running a mile a minute, baby girl." He murmured.

"Stay out of my head."

"Never." A slow, wicked smile touched his lips. "It’s my favorite place to be. Right alongside between your legs."

The afternoon sun was warm against my skin, washing away the lingering chill of the fortress. I dug my toes into the soft white sand, breathing in the salt air. I hadn’t been near the ocean in what felt like a lifetime.

Damien reached across the space between our chairs, threading his fingers through mine. The diamond caught the bright sunlight, scattering tiny flecks of light over my skin.

"Are you happy?" he asked quietly, the question unexpectedly gentle.

I looked at our joined hands, then out at the horizon.

"Yeah," I admitted softly, the words tasting strange on my tongue. "I think I am."

He didn’t answer, but the tension in his shoulders visibly eased, like he’d been bracing himself for a fight.

"Good," he muttered, "That’s all that matters. You. Happy. Mine."

Footsteps approached on the wooden deck behind us. A resort hostess stepped into view, holding a silver tray with fresh drinks. She was young, pretty, with sun-kissed skin and a wide smile.

She clearly had no idea who she was serving.

"Mr. Ricci?" Her voice was sweet, her eyes lingering shamelessly over Damien’s bare chest and the dark trail of hair leading down his low-slung shorts. "Can I bring you anything else?"

She leaned in just a little too close, practically pushing her cleavage into his line of sight.

I took a slow sip of my virgin cocktail, watching the display. She was bold, probably used to getting attention with a flash of a smile.

Too bad she had no idea she was playing with a monster.

"I’m good," Damien said, his tone detached, his eyes fixed on his phone.

"Are you sure?" She lowered her voice, tilting her head, giving him an unmistakable look. "Anything you need at all. I’m here to make sure you’re completely satisfied."

I almost snorted out loud at the sheer audacity of the bitch.

"My fiancée might rip your face off if you keep staring at my chest like that," Damien remarked casually, sliding his sunglasses down his nose to look at me. "She has a temper. Very fond of sharp objects and extremely possessive. I’d back up if I were you."

The girl’s smile froze. Her eyes snapped to me, taking in my presence for the first time.

I smiled back at her—with all my teeth.

"I—I’m so sorry, I was just—"

"Run along, sweetie," I purred softly, "Before I decide to take offense and cut that pretty little tongue right out of your mouth. I’m feeling generous today, but it won’t last long."

She dropped her tray onto a side table with a clatter and retreated so fast she nearly stumbled over her own sandals.

Damien let out a chuckle as soon as she was out of earshot. I turned to glare at him, narrowing my eyes.

"Did you seriously call me possessive? I’m not going to murder a basic waitress over you," I scoffed, taking a long drink. "Don’t flatter yourself, Ricci."

"No?" He smirked. "You wanted to rip Camilla apart on the island. I saw your face every time she touched my cock. You wanted to bleed her dry."

My jaw tightened at the memory, a sudden spike of heat hitting my chest.

"And Maria," he added, his smile growing. "You looked like you were ready to tear her throat out with your bare teeth for laying a hand on me."

"You’re an arrogant ass," I muttered, staring back at the water.

"You knew that when you agreed to marry me."

"Now I’m just annoyed all over again," I said, standing up from my chair and smoothing down my cover-up. "You keep bringing them up like you want me to lose my mind."

"Maybe I do." His voice dropped as he stared at me. "I love seeing you get jealous, Angel. It makes you so fucking wet."

"I’m going to the restroom," I announced, ignoring the heat blooming in my cheeks.

"Don’t drown the staff in the toilet."

"No promises."

"That’s my dirty girl."

The resort restroom was luxurious, smelling of fresh lilies and sea salt.

It didn’t take me long to find her.

Tianna—according to her silver nametag—was standing near the grand mirrors, nervously adjusting her uniform. When she caught my reflection behind her, all the color drained from her face instantly.

"I figured you would’ve asked for a transfer by now," I said quietly, locking the door behind me with a sharp click. "Now I have to decide what to do with you."

"I—I’m sorry!" She backed up until her spine hit the marble counter, raising her hands defensively. "I didn’t know he was engaged! Please, I need this job, I won’t go near him again!"

I took a slow step forward, letting the silence stretch between us until her hands began to shake.

"Relax," I said, letting a sweet smile touch my lips. "I’m not going to hurt you. As long as you make yourself useful to me."