–Damien–
I bask in the scorn they shoot my way. Their disgust only makes me prouder—because they all see it now. She is mine.
Livana is flawless. Beautiful, powerful, untouchable. That silver hair, those rare violet eyes—she's sculpted like a weapon. And I own every inch of her.
But our families? We're oil and fire. Not oil and water—because water calms things. No, we ignite. The Atlantic and Pacific have better chances of merging than we do.
"What the hell are you talking about?" my mother snapped, her voice sharp with disbelief.
I smiled. Slow. Wicked.
"Livana here is my wife. We tied the knot two weeks ago, right, babe?"
She stayed quiet at first, then spoke in that icy way that made me burn.
"Marrying your son wasn't meant to bring peace. It was meant to ignite war, I think. I apologize for arriving empty-handed. He loves his surprises."
That fake smile? Still stunning. Even when she lies, she does it like a queen.
