The Last Shadow (Shadows and Strings #3)

Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Damien

Francesca’s a mess, and the last thing she wants is for anyone to know. Sitting in my office, I watch her from my phone, still at the penthouse, probably wondering why I haven’t been home in two nights.

God, I’m an asshole. This beautiful woman has lost everything—her parents, her home, her precious belongings—and I sit here, watching her suffer.

It hurts me to see her like this.

Right now, she’s crying, letting out loud, body-quaking sobs that echo in the oversized living room. The sound is visceral, and it would be heartbreaking if I allowed myself to feel it that way.

But this is exactly what I wanted—Frankie isolated and alone, broken and wholly reliant on me. Yet, as I sit here on the leather sofa, watching her unleash all the feelings she hides from me, from Jay, from the whole fucking world, I find myself affected. By her. By watching her. Her tears stain her cheeks, marking her like a messy art project, stirring emotions in me that feel foreign and unsettling.

Feelings I never thought I’d be capable of.

You’d think I’d be ecstatic. I have Frankie exactly where I want her, right where I need her to ensure that if that if any secrets come to light, they’ll never be exposed.

I tap the phone to call her, keeping my eyes glued to the screen. She picks up her phone and glances down at it, making a valiant effort to stem the flow of tears, swiping at them while taking several deep breaths before she finally answers. “Hello, Damien.” Her voice is shaky, laced with a hint of disgust. “Did you forget I’m here?”

“Francesca, I could never forget you. How are you holding up?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” she snaps. “And you?”

“Better now that I hear your voice. Good day?”

“Better than yesterday, which I consider progress. Not that you would know. Where are you? Where have you been?”

“I’m still at work.” I lean back on the sofa, surprised by her anger. “Let me make it up to you. I’d love to take you out to dinner. Just you and me. You up for putting on a pretty dress and enjoying a meal with me?”

“Oh, so you’re coming home tonight?”

“I am. And I’d love to take you out.”

“Okay, I am kind of hungry.”

“Excellent. I’ll pick you up in an hour, kitten.”

There’s a long pause before she speaks again, and when she does, her voice softens. “I’ll be ready.”

I don’t have much time to prepare, so I get to my feet, calling an associate while I dress in a dark gray suit and a green shirt. I give myself one last look in the mirror before heading out. “I’m gone for the night, Jess. You can leave when you’re finished with whatever it is you’re doing.” I don’t wait for her response. I have an appointment to keep before picking up Francesca.

“Good night,” she calls after me just as the elevator doors slide shut.

Fifty minutes later, I’m standing at the elevator to the penthouse when the doors open, revealing Francesca waiting for me. “You look stunning, Francesca.”

The green velvet dress clings to her curves, skimming mid-thigh and highlighting miles of long, shapely legs. It’s a refreshing change for a woman who usually lives in pantsuits. She’s wearing more makeup than usual, likely to mask the evidence of her earlier tears, but she looks gorgeous. Her big brown eyes glimmer, nearly golden thanks to the dark liner and full lashes.

“Thank you, Damien. You look,” she sighs, shaking her head. “As good as you always do.”

My cock twitches at the look of appreciation she gives me. “Then we’ll be the most beautiful people dining at Spanish Fly.”

Her eyes widen. “Spanish Fly? That new upscale Mediterranean place?” Her smile broadens. “I’ve heard great things about it, but they’re all booked up for the next three months.”

“That’s the beauty of being my pet.” I extend my arm, and she wraps her arm around it, leaning into me. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“I am, actually.” She tells me about her day, mentioning that her partner’s been behaving strangely and that they still have no solid leads on the Butcher of Beverly Hills. “God, how I hate that fucking name!” She lets out a laugh, shaking her head as we walk inside the restaurant.

“I don’t know,” I tease her. “It’s got a nice bit of musicality to it.”

She snorts, staying quiet until we arrive at our private booth. “Musicality? You mean it’s catchy enough to sell papers and get clicks?”

“Sure. Isn’t that what makes the world go ‘round? Money and more money?”

She snort-laughs, and there’s almost no trace of her earlier anger. “I guess you have a point. A small one, but I’ll allow it.”

The dinner is delightful as we chat and laugh while enjoying an exquisite tasting menu crafted by a Michelin-starred chef. Frankie is lively and her cheeks flush a beautiful shade of pink. “Thank you for this, Damien. For somehow knowing what I need and giving it to me.”

Now is the time. “I’m happy to give you everything you need, Francesca. I pray you never want for anything ever again.” She blushes, taking a sip of wine.

“Damien,” she begins.

“I’m serious. I’ve never felt this way about a woman before. I’m not sure I have ever loved anyone other than my sister before, but now I find that I’m protective of you, that I can’t stop thinking about you when we’re not together. And that I want you more and more with each passing day.”

She gasps and licks her lips. “That’s so sweet, Damien.”

No one’s ever accused me of being sweet before and I get off on the fact that she sees me like that. That makes all of this easier. “I like the way I feel when I’m with you, and I think you feel the same.” I reach inside my jacket and pull out a dark blue velvet box, setting it on the table between us. “Francesca DeMarco, will you marry me?” My heart races and I’m nervous, even though I’m certain what the answer will be.

Odd.

Frankie stares at the ring box, now open, her eyes are wide as they settle on the two-carat diamond ring. She runs her finger along the diamonds circling the band and smiles. “Damien, it’s beautiful.”

“You are more beautiful, Francesca. But this ring is a symbol of what I feel for you. Marry me?” I pull the ring from the box and slide it onto her finger. A genuine smile forms on her face. “Oh wow, Damien! This is stunning!”

It’s perfect. Too big, maybe, but she doesn’t even notice. She’s lost in the sparkle, a moment of pure magic. No grand gestures, no theatrics. Just Francesca and me. That’s all I want. Seeing her like this, happy. Like she’s the only woman in the world.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you.” she says, beaming. “Oh my God, I just…I don’t…oh, Damien.”

I was certain she’d say yes. I’ve been planting seeds for almost a year. But hearing the words spill from her lips brings an unexpected wave of relief. I can’t even begin to imagine what I’d do if she’d turned me down.

A laugh rushes out of her as she nods. Her face lights up like a Christmas tree. “I love you so much, Damien Wolfe.”

My chest puffs out a little at her words. I smile and lean forward. “I love you too, Francesca.”

“I can’t believe this is real. We’re getting married!”

I take her hand in mine. “Believe it, kitten. You’re going to be my wife.”

Frankie squeezes my hand, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “There’s so much to plan! I’ll need to find the perfect dress, something classic and elegant. Oh, and the venue! Maybe a beautiful garden ceremony.”

I smile at her enthusiasm. This is exactly what I wanted—Frankie focused on our future, on building a life with me. “Whatever you want, Francesca. The sky’s the limit. I want to make all your dreams come true.”

She sighs happily, leaning in closer. “You already have. You’ve been my rock through all of this, Damien. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Hey,” I say, cupping her cheek. “I’ll always be here for you.”

Frankie turns her head, pressing a kiss on my palm. “I love you so much. I can’t wait to be your wife.”

Pride surges through me at her words. Wife. “I love you too, my pet. More than anything. You’ve brought the light back into my life.”

“We’re going to have such a wonderful future together.” She gazes at me adoringly, like I hung the moon and stars just for her.

At this moment, I’ll do anything to keep that look on her face forever. To be her savior, her everything. “I promise, Frankie, I will spend the rest of my life making you happy. Anything you want, anything you need, it’s yours.”

Tears shimmer in her eyes. “All I need is you.”

I raise her hand to my lips. “Forever and always. You and me.”

Frankie giggles. “So when should we have the wedding? Spring could be nice.”

“Spring sounds perfect. New beginnings.” I wink at her. “But take all the time you need to plan. I’ll marry you tomorrow if you want.”

“My eager fiancé,” she teases, grinning. “Don’t tempt me. I just might take you up on that.”

Stroking her hand, I marvel at how far we’ve come at how deep she’s fallen. Fool for love. But she’s my fool now. My Frankie. “I’m all yours, kitten. Mind, body and soul. We have our whole lives ahead of us.”

In this moment, I almost believe my own lie. That a monster like me could make an angel like her happy. But I’ll play the part as long as it keeps her under my spell.

Forever and always, Francesca. Till death do us part.

Heat flares in her eyes as they scan my face, landing on my lips. “Want to get out of here?”

My brows shoot up. “What about dessert?”

“I’ll be your dessert.”

I stand and toss a few hundred-dollar bills on the table and take her hand, guiding her out of the restaurant. “There’s an extra fifty for you if you get my car back here in under two minutes.”

The valet smiles, snatching the ticket from my hand and taking off down the street.

Ninety seconds later he returns with my car and thirty seconds after that I’m breaking every traffic law to get back to the penthouse. “Take off your panties,” I growl impatiently when a light turns red.

Frankie’s breath hitches, but she slips the black lace down her legs and dangles them in front of me, laughing when I snatch them from her and bury my nose in them. “Dirty man.”

“I love the way you smell when you’re turned on.” My gaze flicks to her legs where she’s pressing her knees together to relieve the ache.

“Well, I’m definitely turned on right now.”

“I know.” My cock aches behind my zipper and I hit the gas, eager to get home and bury myself deep inside her. I’m so fucking turned on I can hardly think straight and tonight, I plan to kick things up a notch. “Come on.” I take her hand and pull her body against mine with a low growl.

“Yes,” she moans, letting me drag her into the elevator.

The doors close and I turn to Francesca as fire pulses through my veins. Our lips fit together perfectly, and I savor the taste of her tongue against mine, the way she moans and presses her body to mine. I feel the hard tips of her nipples against my chest and when she whimpers into my mouth, I swallow it down and back her against the elevator wall.

She pulls back with a gasp, eyes foggy with desire. “Damien.”

“I’m right here, Francesca.”

She purrs. “I see you. I feel you.” Her hips push forward hungrily, and I know what she needs.

I lean in close enough to whisper in her ear, enjoying the shiver she’s unable to suppress. “You want to feel more of me.”

“Yes,” she replies with a moan. “Need to.”

I press myself against her hip for relief as one hand slips under her dress. The silky slide of her thighs is intoxicating, but the heat of her womanhood has a magnetic pull on me. Brushing my knuckles against her plump, bare lips.

Another gasp escapes and her hips push forward. “Please.”

My lips pull up in satisfaction at that one, whispered word. “I do love it when you beg.” To reward her, I spread her lips and find her clit swollen and drenched in her juices. The first touch makes her cry out.

I slip a finger inside, enjoying the way her fingertips dig into my arms at the intensity of the sensation. “I love how wet you get for me.”

“Me. Too.” Her words come out on gasping pants and she’s already pulsing around me as the elevator rises quickly to the penthouse.

“Come for me, Francesca. Come on my hand. Do it before the doors open.” The command is deep and loud enough to bounce off the elevator walls.

“I’ll try.” She grinds harder and her legs tremble for a few seconds before she explodes, doing exactly as I asked her to. Her juices drip down my fingers and onto my palm.

“Oh, God.” Her knees buckle and she leans against me while riding out the last of her pleasure just as the bell sounds our arrival at the penthouse.

“Such a good girl.” She’s never been more beautiful than when she gives her pleasure over to me, trusting me to take care of her.

She pulls back, licking her lips with a knowing smile as she watches me licking her juices from my fingers. “That was hot.”

“Indeed,” I growl and take her hand, guiding her out of the elevator as carnal need fires through my veins. “Such obedience deserves a proper reward.” I guide her into the main bedroom and close the door, wanting to savor this moment.

“Get naked.” My gaze burns a path over her body, and she responds, slowly peeling off the green velvet dress, letting it pool at her feet.

Such a vision of beauty.

My clothes feel tight and suffocating, so I rip them off, tossing aside the last remnants of civility along with my suit. I step closer, our bodies just a breath apart. “Get on the bed.” It’s not a request.

She does as she’s told, sinking into the soft mattress, her legs slightly parted, an invitation I can’t resist. On my knees, I part her legs further, exposing her to my gaze. “You’re so wet, kitten.” My voice is hoarse as I admire her femininity, her body’s honest response to my touch. Her scent fills my nostrils, and I lean in closer, my breath ghosts over her sensitive flesh.

A soft moan escapes her lips as I sink two fingers deep inside. I curl them, stroking that spot that makes her see stars. “Oh fuck,” she gasps, her hips bucking.

“What do you need, Francesca?” I already know the answer, but I want to hear it from her lips. My fingers, still coated with her juices, glide over her silky skin, teasing her, tormenting her.

“You,” she replies, her eyes fluttering shut.

I withdraw my fingers, now slick with her arousal, and trace them around the tight pucker of her ass. Francesca’s breath hitches. “Relax,” I soothe, circling the sensitive flesh.

Leaning forward, I flick my tongue against her swollen clit as I slowly ease my middle finger into her ass. The dual sensations have her keening with pleasure.

“Damien!” she cries, grinding against my face.

I alternate between teasing licks and deep, probing thrusts, keeping her on edge. Her thighs begin to quiver around my head. I know she’s close.

“Don’t stop,” Francesca begs breathlessly. “Please don’t fucking stop!”

I have no intention of stopping. I redouble my efforts, sucking and licking her clit as I fuck her ass with my finger. With a strangled cry, her orgasm explodes and her hips grind against my mouth while I suck her clit until it becomes too much. “Yes!”

“That’s it, my pet. Come for me.” My voice is a low, primal command, urging her on.

Before she can fully recover, I rise and shove my aching cock deep into her still-quivering pussy. We both groan at the exquisite sensation.

“Fuck,” I grunt, struggling to maintain control. “You feel amazing, Francesca.” As I pump into her, dark thoughts swirl through my mind. The way she grips me, getting wetter with every thrust, ignites a hunger I’ve long suppressed. I want to possess her completely, to mark her as mine in ways that go beyond the physical.

“Damien, oh, God!” she cries out, her nails digging into my back.

The pain only fuels my desire. I crave more. More pain, more pleasure, more of her. With each stroke, I push her higher, my control slipping as the monster within claws its way to the surface.

“That’s it, Frankie. Fuck me. Fuck me!” I growl, my voice barely recognizable.

Her eyes go wide. I can tell the moment she senses the shift in me, the darkness inside. Part of me wants her to be afraid, to truly understand the depths of my madness.

“Damien,” she chokes out as another orgasm washes over her. “Yes.”

I revel in her surrender, knowing she’s mine completely. I want to consume her, to merge our bodies and souls until there’s no separation between us.

My thrusts become punishing, bordering on brutal. I want to leave my mark on her, inside and out. The possessive rage inside me is boiling.

Mine, mine, mine , goes through my mind with each snap of my hips.

I lean down, my lips grazing her ear. “You’re mine, Francesca,” I hiss, my voice dripping with dark promise. “Forever. There’s no escaping me now.”

I thrust into her, harder, deeper, claiming her with relentless strokes. “Say you’ll never leave me,” I demand, my voice a hoarse whisper against her ear.

“Never,” she pants, meeting my rhythm, her body moving with mine. “I’ll never leave you, Damien. I’m yours forever.”

I lose myself in the raw, primal act, in the sensation of her body welcoming mine. I pound into her, my cock buried deep, our sweat-slicked bodies sliding together.

“Mine,” I growl, my eyes fierce as I gaze down at her. “Only mine.”

“Yes, Damien,” she pants. “I’m yours. All yours.”

Her submission fuels my darkest impulses. I grip her hips, slamming into her with abandon. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoes through the room, punctuated by our guttural moans.

“Fuck, Frankie,” I say through gritted teeth, feeling my control slipping. “I’m close. Come with me. Now.”

“Damien!” she screams, her whole body shuddering as her orgasm crashes over her.

With a growl, I bury myself to the hilt and explode inside her. Wave after wave of intense pleasure washes over me as I empty myself into her willing cunt.

This. This is what I need to fuel my vengeance. Nothing more, nothing less.

Francesca DeMarco will be the only thing that brings me to my knees.

She runs her hands over my back, a soothing touch that grounds me, pulling me back to earth. “Damien,” she says softly. “That was?—”

“Extraordinary,” I finish for her.

“Yes,” she agrees, her eyes sparkling. “Extraordinary.”

I prop myself up on one elbow, gazing down at her—my bride-to-be, my beautiful conquest. “Tell me, Francesca. Aren’t you glad you said yes?”