Chapter 136 Jasmine

Chapter 136 Jasmine

"I want you in every way—mind, body, and soul. You walked into my life like a breath of fresh air and brought back parts of me I didn't even know were missing. I never thought I'd let anyone consume me completely... until I found you. You took my hand and pulled me out of the dark. You showed me what love really is."

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them again. The next words hit me straight in the chest. "I love you, Jasmine."

The way he said my name sounded like a prayer, like it was something sacred. Tears filled my eyes. He smiled softly and turned around, extending his left forearm toward me.

A gasp tore from my lips.

My hands flew to my mouth. I stared wide eyed at his forearm. There, in elegant black script, was my name—Jasmine—tattooed cleanly across the inside of his forearm. It was simple, bold, and permanent. Tears started rolling down my cheeks before I could stop them.

I reached out and gently traced the letters with my fingertips, feeling the slightly raised skin under the ink. The tears fell freely now, overwhelmed by happiness and the weight of what this meant.

"Oh my God, Damien," I whispered, covering my mouth in awe.

He turned back around with a wide grin.
He captured my lips again, running his tongue along my bottom lip. "It's you, baby. I'll always wear your name proudly, no matter where I go. Everyone will know you're mine. All mine. Those big brown eyes, your wild bouncy curls, my sexy vixen... all mine."

I stared at him in complete awe, tears still slipping down my cheeks. I didn't deserve this. I hadn't even told him about my past yet. I couldn't move forward without being honest.

I gently placed my hands on his chest. His possessive hands immediately settled on my waist.

"I'm ready to tell you," I whispered, searching his eyes.

He looked confused for a second, then his face softened with concern. "Are you sure, baby? I don't want you digging up anything that might hurt you."

"I'm sure," I said, my voice shaky. I closed my eyes tight and took a deep breath. "If I want to move on, I have to let it all go. That means facing everything that happened to me." I repeated the words that had been echoing in my head.

Damon nodded. He tucked a stray curl behind my ear, then leaned down and kissed the top of my head. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles on the backs of my hands. "Take your time, love. I'm right here."

"Mom and Thomas weren't from rich families," I started. "Their parents were narcissistic and made life hell for them. Uncle had enough and decided to leave. He wasn't allowed any freedom and they made him feel guilty for everything. He left Mom with her parents, promising he'd come back once he'd made something of himself."

I took a shaky breath, my eyes locked on Damon's gentle gaze.

"When he finally came back after so many years... he was too late." My voice cracked. Tears burned my eyes, but I swallowed hard. Damon's warmth and his loving touch kept me grounded. "She had been sold to—"

"Bellamy," he finished quietly. I nodded, fighting back more tears.

"When I was six, I started noticing the horrible bruises all over Mom's body," I croaked, tears now streaming down my face. Damon pulled me into his chest, wrapping his strong arms around me. I buried my face in his shirt, my small hands clutching his waist.

"Whenever I asked her about them, she said she'd just fallen and that she'd be fine. But she was never fine."

I shook my head against him, sobbing quietly. "It got worse when I turned seven. Every day after school I'd come home to find her beaten half to death on the living room couch. I tried to take care of her. She'd always tell me she was okay. But that night... something came over me. I just hugged her tight and let her hold me. I didn't know it would be the last time I'd ever see her alive."

My sobs grew stronger, shaking my whole body. Damon held me tighter, letting me break in his arms.

"I woke up really late. I don't know what woke me. I went downstairs and saw the kitchen light on. I thought Mom was making cookies, so I ran in... but I found her lifeless body." A painful sob tore out of me. "I tried to wake her up. She wouldn't answer. Her cold brown eyes... that's all I saw."

I squeezed my eyes shut as the memories flooded back. "I stayed by her side until morning. When I woke up, I was in a cellar. That's when the real abuse started. He blamed me for her death. Said it was only fair. I took every beating, every whipping, every day of starving... because at that age I thought if I suffered enough, Mom would forgive me for being the reason she died."

"It went on for three years. I got used to it—the beatings, the hunger, the pain." I shuddered. Damon's hand rubbed up and down my back soothingly, helping my tense muscles relax.

"One day Thomas came to visit. I was locked in the cellar, so I didn't know he was there. He carried my nearly lifeless body out. The house was already burning when we got outside. I kept yelling at him to stop and save Mom's things. I was just a kid. I didn't understand anything."

"He took me in and gave me a new name—my mother's maiden name. He gave me a new identity, a new life. But he couldn't heal the scars inside. No therapist could. My sperm donor still haunted my nightmares. To the world, Cassandra Hugh died that day. Jasmine Scott was born from her ashes."

I looked up at Damon, my voice softer now. "From that day, I promised myself I'd never be that vulnerable little girl again. I tried everything to run from my past. I didn't know that being vulnerable could actually be beautiful. Love is vulnerable... and scary. So damn scary."