Sera gripped her father’s hand, her small fingers trembling. Damien forced himself to stay composed, though rage burned inside him like wildfire.
“What does marrying you accomplish, Aria?” he demanded. “You’ve already destroyed everything between our families. What more could you possibly gain?”
Her gaze softened in a strange, twisted way. “Everything that was taken from me. My name. My right. My future.”
She stepped closer still, close enough for him to smell the faint perfume she used a blend of white roses and smoke.
“You were supposed to be mine, Damien,” she whispered. “You know that. You remember, don’t you?”
Damien stared at her, silent.
She tilted her head. “You don’t deny it.”
“I remember,” he said quietly. “I remember the plans. The arrangement. And I remember how relieved
