Evelyn's POV
I couldn't stop shaking.
Damien Ashford's hands were still on my shoulders, steadying me. Keeping me upright when every part of me wanted to collapse into the driveway and scream until my throat bled.
"You're bleeding." His thumb brushed my cheek—the one my father had split open. The gentleness shocked me more than the touch itself. Men like Damien Ashford didn't do gentle.
"It's nothing."
"It's a handprint." His gray eyes went arctic. "Who hit you?"
"Does it matter?" My laugh came out broken. "Everyone saw. Two hundred witnesses, and not one person helped me."
Something dangerous flickered across his face. Something that made me think of winter storms and frozen lakes and things that killed quietly in the dark.
"They brought her back." His voice was soft. Deadly.
My heart stopped. "What?"
"Your sister. Isabelle." He said her name like he'd been thinking it for years. "They brought her back."
Ice flooded my veins. "How do you know that? How do you know her name?"
But Damien wasn't looking at me anymore. He was staring past me, toward my parents' mansion. Toward the party still going strong. Toward the lights and laughter and people who'd watched my father hit me and done nothing.
"I've been watching your family for a long time," he said. "Longer than you know."
"That's—" Creepy. Terrifying. Wrong. But something in his expression stopped me. This wasn't obsession. This was something else. Something that looked almost like... pain?
"Why?" I whispered.
He finally looked at me. Really looked at me. Like he was seeing past the makeup running down my face, past the expensive dress, past everything fake straight down to the broken pieces underneath.
"Because seven years ago, my sister died the same way yours did." His voice was ice over rage. "Same location. Same 'accident.' Same impossible circumstances."
My breath caught. "You think—"
"I don't think. I know." He released me, but stayed close. Like he thought I might fall again. "Your father is doing something that should be impossible. Something that killed my sister. And you're next."
"Next?" The word barely made it past my lips.
"Next to disappear. Next to become whatever Isabelle is now." His eyes bored into mine. "Did you see her eyes? The way she moved? She's not the sister you remember. She's something else. Something wrong."
Yes. God, yes. Those empty eyes. That robotic grace. The way she'd looked at me like I was nothing.
"What is she?"
"I don't know yet." Damien's jaw clenched. "But I've been investigating for seven years, and tonight confirmed every suspicion. Your father didn't bring Isabelle back. He created something wearing her face."
My legs went weak. I stumbled, and Damien caught me again—one arm around my waist, solid and warm and real.
"I can't—" I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. "This isn't real. None of this is real."
"It's real." His voice softened. Barely. "And it's worse than you know."
"How could it be worse?" Tears burned my eyes. "My sister came back from the dead. My fiancé was cheating with her. My parents hit me and called me crazy in front of everyone. What could possibly be worse?"
Damien was quiet for a long moment. His arm stayed around my waist, holding me up. Keeping me from shattering completely.
Then he did something that made the entire world tilt sideways.
He stepped back and dropped to one knee.
Right there. In his driveway. Under the cold stars. While my life burned down behind me.
"Marry me."
I stared at him. "What?"
"Marry me." His gray eyes were deadly serious. "Be my wife. Let me protect you. And I'll make everyone who hurt you regret they were ever born."
This was insane. Completely insane.
"You don't even know me," I whispered.
"I know enough." His hand came up, fingers brushing away my tears with shocking gentleness. "I know you read in your garden every Sunday. I know you're kind to the staff when no one's watching. I know you became someone else to make your parents love you. I know Marcus was wrong for you from the start."
My heart hammered. "How long have you been watching me?"
"Two years." No shame. No apology. Just brutal honesty. "I moved here to investigate your family. But then I saw you in that garden, crying over a book, and everything got complicated."
"Complicated how?"
His thumb traced my jawline, careful of my bruised cheek. "Because somewhere between surveillance and investigation, I fell in love with you."
The words hit me like lightning.
"You don't love me," I said. "You don't know me."
"I know you better than they ever did." His voice went rough. "I know you buried your dreams to please people who would never be pleased. I know you're brilliant and kind and strong. I know you deserve someone who sees you—really sees you—not just as a replacement for someone else."
Tears spilled down my cheeks. No one had ever seen me before. Not really.
"Why?" My voice broke. "Why do you care?"
Something raw flickered in his eyes. Something that made him look almost human beneath all that ice.
"Because I failed my sister." His voice cracked. Just slightly. Just enough to reveal the wound underneath. "I didn't save Elena when she needed me. I won't fail you too."
The proposal hung between us. Impossible. Crazy. Wrong in every way.
But what did I have left? No home. No family. No fiancé. No future.
Just a dead sister wearing my life like a costume, and parents who'd thrown me away like garbage.
"If I say yes," I whispered, "what happens?"
Damien's smile was cold and beautiful and terrifying.
"We destroy them. All of them." His hand extended, palm up. An offering. A promise. "We take everything they love and burn it to ash. We expose every secret they're hiding. And we make sure they never hurt anyone again."
Revenge. He was offering me revenge wrapped in a marriage license.
I should say no. Should run. Should be horrified.
But God help me, all I felt was relief.
Someone finally wanted to fight for me instead of against me.
"One condition," I said.
"Name it."
"You tell me everything. No secrets. No lies." I met his eyes. "If we do this, I need to trust you."
"Everything," he promised. "Starting tonight."
I looked back at the mansion. At the lights and the laughter and the family that had never been mine.
Then I looked at Damien—this dangerous stranger who somehow felt safer than anyone I'd ever known.
I put my hand in his.
"Yes," I said. "I'll marry you."
His fingers closed around mine, and for the first time in five years, I didn't feel alone.