Five Years Wasted Now They Beg Her Back novel Chapter 83

She was, after all, still afraid.

Grace was afraid of climbing out of one pit of fire only to fall into another, uncontrollable abyss.

Damien didn’t look at her, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

But the atmosphere around him instantly dropped to freezing.

“A transaction?”

He repeated the word, his tone laced with mockery.

The car suddenly swerved to the right and pulled over.

Damien unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned in over her.

His powerful masculine presence instantly enveloped Grace.

She was trapped between the seat and his chest, with nowhere to retreat.

“Grace.”

He gripped her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes.

“Look me in the eye and say that again.”

His gaze was like a blade forged in ice, yet it also seemed to burn with a fire that had been suppressed for a decade.

“I, Damien Clarke, never lie, and I never make a bad deal.”

His every word was like a brand, seared onto Grace’s heart.

“I want you. This isn’t a transaction. I’m serious.”

Grace was completely stunned.

Reeling from the shock, she subconsciously reached out to push him away, but her hand fumbled and hit the latch for the center console.

The console lid popped open.

A brooch lay inside, right before Grace’s eyes.

It was a silver brooch in the shape of a ginkgo leaf. The style was a bit dated, and it was stained with a small, dark, dried spot.

Grace’s pupils constricted.

This brooch… it was her mother’s.

It was said that her mother had designed it herself, a one-of-a-kind piece.

That dark, hopeless, rainy night…

The night she had been kicked out of the Hart family, the night all her research notes had been thrown in the trash…

Suddenly, she understood.

She understood why, when she had nothing, someone was always there to pull her up from the bottom.

Grace looked up, meeting Damien’s unfathomably deep eyes.

The car started again.

This time, Grace’s heart was calmer than it had ever been.

At City Hall.

Photos, signatures, stamps.

When the two new marriage certificates were handed to them, Grace still felt a bit dazed.

She… was married? Just like that?

She was now Mrs. Clarke?

Stepping out of City Hall, the sunlight was a bit harsh.

Damien took her hand, their fingers intertwining.

“From this day on,” he said, turning to look at her, his gaze burning, “I’ll take care of your future.”

On her third day as Mrs. Clarke, Grace received an interview invitation.

It was from the Arclight Research Institute.

It was the nation’s top joint-venture research institution, with a mysterious background, immense funding, and a congregation of the world’s most brilliant scientific minds.

Getting into Arclight was every researcher’s dream.

“A friend of mine is on the board there. I submitted your resume,” Damien explained casually. “Go give it a try. Think of it as gaining experience.”