Revenge In A suit & Tie

Damon's Proposal: Again, But This Time With Love

I honestly never believed I would live to see the day when Zachary's empire collapsed.

And yet here I stood, on the balcony of Damon's penthouse, cold air whisking across my skin, looking down at the city below, glittering like the stars; as if Zachary was hiding down there somewhere, his name sinking in disgrace, and the fruits of his labor draining out like an open wound.

It should've brought fulfillment.

Instead, it was just strange.

Yes, relieved. Yes, even lighter. But I also was left with a piece of fear that lingered, like smoke from a fire, just hanging on to me when I tried to shrug it off. Because Zachary, for me, was not just a man - he was a shadow. A ghost that hung over me for years. And ghosts don't just disappear.

Behind me Damon broke the calm of the night.

“You're cold.”

I turned to look at him, and he was carrying a blanket on his one arm, and a glass of wine in each hand.

Even still amidst the chaos of the night, he appeared so unshaken. He was solid. He was my anchor in a storm, of which I wasn't sure I would survive.

He placed the glasses down, and I could feel the blanket enveloping my shoulders with his lingering touch just long enough to remind me that I wasn't alone.

"Better?" he asked quietly.

I nodded, although I still felt tension in my chest.

His hand brushed mine, and then he took hold of my fingers; it was a grounding gesture only he could do. "You keep staring out there like the city is going to swallow you," he said.

"Maybe it already did," I whispered. "For so long, Damon, I was lost in it. I was controlled by it. By him."

I could see his jaw tighten at the mention of Zachary, but he stayed calm. "Not anymore. You broke the chains. You did that, Sierra."

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to step into that truth fully. But my past still tugged and whispered in my ear that maybe I wasn't free, not yet.

Still, in this moment with Damon; with warmth wrapping me in comfort, I knew one thing: he wasn't going anywhere.

And maybe for the first time, I didn't want to run either.

Later that evening, Damon told me to get dressed.

"For what?" I asked, suspiciously looking at him as he adjusted his cufflinks.

"You'll see."

I should have known better than to expect less from him. Damon Vireaux was not a man of half-measures; if he wanted to distract me, he was going to do it big.

I slipped on a black gown I hadn't worn since before everything with Zachary imploded - silky, simple, but elegant. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I barely recognized the woman looking back at me.

It was not because of the dress, but rather, for the first time, there was not a hint of the broken, pathetic Sierra.

She was gone.

Damon's driver took us out of the city. We drove in silence with his hand resting on mine, thumb brushing slow circles over my knuckles. The gesture was small, but it was enough to keep my heart from spiraling.

After some time, we stopped, and I realized he had brought me to the water's edge. The moon reflected shimmering silver on the endless waves. He had set a table on the pier, with flickering candles against the night, wine chilling in a bucket of ice.

I laughed softly and shook my head. "You planned this?"

His lips curved into the faintest smile. "I don't plan. I act."

I rolled my eyes, but I felt warmth in my chest at what he was saying.

We ate, we talked, we even laughed some sound I hadn’t heard come from me in weeks. For a while, it was just like the world that existed outside of our bubble didn’t matter. There were no scandals. No threats. Just me and him, and the ocean waves carrying us away.

Once dinner was over and dessert service had cleared, Damon stood. For a second, I thought he was just standing up to stretch. Until he reached into the pocket of his jacket.

My heart skipped.

He pulled out a small velvet box.

"Sierra," he said, and suddenly his voice--the controlled, commanding one that I was familiar with--was gone. It was raw. It was honest. It was vulnerable in a way I had never seen it before.

I froze, breath caught in my throat until he bent one knee to the sand.

The world felt blurry around me. All that mattered was him.

"But the first time I asked you to marry me," Damon continued, with...was that love in his stare? My heart raced at the possibility while he kept his eyes on mine, "I was an i***t. I asked out of pride, out of possession. Because I could not stand the idea of anyone else getting you. I didn't even know what I was asking of you. I didn't deserve you back then."

I felt a pang in my chest and tears stung at my eyes.

He opened the box. Inside was a ring, not the one he had given to me previously, heavy and ostentatious, more of a statement than a promise. This one was simpler, elegant, with a diamond that reflected the moonlight like fire.

"But now," Damon continued, his voice soft but steady as his gaze softened somewhat, "I get it.

I’m not asking because I want to own you, Sierra. I’m asking because I love you. Because in every moment with you, I’m changed, I’m stripped down, I want to be more than I was before. You make me better. You make me a person."

A sob I couldn’t contain broke though my breath.

"I don’t want to marry you to tie you to me," he said.

"I want to marry you so I can spend the rest of my life proving to you that you’re safe, that you’re loved, and that you never have to face anything alone again."

He raised the ring slightly.

“So, Sierra Monroe… will you marry me?”

I couldn't shake the look from my mind as I stared back at him, the man who had once been my adversary, my opponent, my tempest. The man who had ripped through all of the barriers I had erected over the years, somehow he had seen the fragments I didn't even know were hiding in the shadows.

The man who loved me, not for who I had been allowed to be while at the mercy of Zachary, not for the mask I used to wear, but for who I really was.

I felt the tears humbly glide down my face and nodded my head, almost involuntarily. My voice began to break as I finally was able to speak the words I had withheld so many times.

"Yes," I inhaled.

Then louder, firmer.

"Yes, Damon. I will marry you."

I half-expected the immense pride to surface in his expression, declaring a victorious celebration, but instead, I watched in wonder as a deeper softness moved on his face, sending a heart-wrenching longing through my chest.

He slipped the golden ring on my finger, stood up and placed me tight in his arms and kissed me with all of the passion and tenderness I had been craving for months.

There may have been owners and the owned, but no dominant or dominance.

We were just love.

Only now, for the first time, was I aware of what it meant to be wholly chosen and able to freely choose back.

We didn't return home immediately.

Damon took me out of the moment and into a dance there on the pier. No music but the waves and the quiet thrum of our hearts. I sank into him, my head against his chest, and just for that moment I thought that we could be like this forever, untouchable, unbreakable, finally free.

But nothing ever lasts forever.

Because when we finally made it back to the car, Damon’s driver was waiting for us and was noticeably upset, phone in hand.

“Sir,” he said, tension evident in his voice. “There has been an update. The location of Zachary has been traced.”

At that moment, I felt my stomach plummet.

Damon squeezed my hand tighter and set his jaw. “Where?”

The driver gulped. “Too close. He is in the city…and he is searching for her.”

I felt my heart stop beating.

The ring on my finger felt heavier, like a promise and a target all at once.

And as Damon pulled me closer, I realized something petrifying: saying yes to him wasn’t just making a commitment in love.

I had painted the biggest target on my back that Zachary could ever see. Sierra has finally said yes to Damon’s heartfelt proposal, but the celebration is cut short when news breaks Zachary has resurfaced in the city, and he’s hunting for her.