Page 122 of Deathless & Divided

Satisfaction filled Damian like he’d never felt before. If she was admitting her belief in his love, the battle was half won on his side.

“I do,” Damian said.

“And that just leaves me to wonder about everything when it comes to you.” Lily turned her head to stare off to the side. “Is there such a thing as good men who do bad things?”

“I’ve never claimed to be good.”

“I thought you were. You told me differently. Maybe I should have listened.”

“I’m still yours,” Damian said, leaning down to press a kiss to Lily’s dirty cheek.

Lily’s eyes fluttered closed. “My friend’s mother died.”

“I know.”

“Your cousin, too.”

“Lea isn’t my biggest regret,” Damian said, tilting Lily’s head back so he could see her eyes.

“What is?” she asked in a whisper.

“You already know.”

“Maybe, but I’d like to hear you say it.”

“Hurting you, sweetheart. Although Lea being caught in the crossfire shouldn’t have happened, either,” Damian said, the confession slipping past his lips before he could stop it. “I wish it hadn’t but I made my choices and now I have to live with them.”

“Stop talking.”

Damian chuckled. “Why?”

“Because when you talk, I believe everything you say.”

“I’ll never lie, not if you ask the right questions, Lily.”

“I shouldn’t have to ask, Damian.”

“I don’t want to tell you things that put you in danger or might hurt you in some way,” he said. “If, or when, you ask, I will always tell you the truth because if you have the sense to ask, you have the strength to handle it. But I will not go out of my way to purposely tell you things just so you have every little last detail about whatever. I won’t ever do that, not if knowing them could somehow hurt or harm you. Please understand that.”

“I just …”

“What?” Damian asked, cupping her jaw in his palm. “Tell me what you need, Lily.”

“I can’t understand.”

“Not yet.”

“Ever,” Lily said.

“Eventually.”

Lily sighed. “I hate this life—the mafia life. This is why. People fight and die for nothing; for a belief and rules … and nothing.”

“I know.”

He’d always known that.

“And I hate the things you’ve done,” she murmured.