Page 43 of Vow Of Fire

I gritted my teeth. How was I ever going to look that man in the eye again? I wanted to punch him in the face for what he’d done to me.

I flushed as I thought of all the lies he’d told me over the years. The lack of information. When all the while, he’d been the one to set up the fraudulent purchases.

What made it a hundred times worse was I actually liked him. I’d thought of him as a friend, when all this time he’d been working for the Marcellis.

The whole mess made me sick to my stomach.

I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. Well, screw Vincent. Screw Dante. Screw them all. I had a business to run, one that I’d built from scratch, and I wasn’t going to sabotage that for anybody. I didn’t give a shit what Dante had told his mother.

I frowned as I thought about the man who’d brought me here. I could see Dante was dangerous, and had I sold information to his rivals, or to Sergei Malakov, I’d be very, very scared right now. Actually, I’d probably be very, very dead, but I didn’t want to think about that.

Instead, I remembered how his hand had felt around my throat. Strong, unflinching, dominating, but not lethal. At no point had I felt in danger.

Instead of being scared, my body had reacted to his touch. His show of dominance had warmed me in a deliciously sinful way. Like a dark desire inside of me had been coaxed into the light. Not that I’d ever admit it to him.

A knock at the window made me glance up. Kyle held up a brown paper bag overflowing with groceries. I was happy to see something green poking out of the top.

I heard a key turn and the cabin door opened.

The burly guard stood awkwardly in the doorframe, rifle slung over his shoulder, holding the carrier bag in his hands. “Mr. Marcelli said to drop this off.”

Behind him, I noticed the second guard watching cautiously, in case I made any sudden moves.

“Thank you.” I took the grocery bag from him. “I hope you didn’t have to go too far.”

“Ma’am.” He was careful not to give me any details.

Very well trained.

He reached in to close the door.

“Hey, Kyle?”

He glanced up, eyebrows arched in surprise at my use of his first name.

“You don’t mind if I call you that, do you?” I asked.

He shook his head but didn’t ask how I knew it. “No, ma’am.”

“Would you mind if I gathered some rosemary from outside? I see there’s a bush of it over there.” I nodded to the edge of the clearing.

He hesitated.

“It’s for supper. I’m making a stew.” When he didn’t immediately reply, I continued, “I promise I won’t run. You can shoot me if I do.”

He masked a grin but placed both his hands on his weapon. “I guess it won’t hurt.”

“Thanks.”

I ventured outside for the first time in two and a half days. It felt so good. The weather was cool, but the sun still held a little warmth. I turned my face up to it for a brief moment, aware Kyle was watching me, his expression unreadable.

“That feels good,” I murmured, shooting him a smile, before stepping over to the wild rosemary bush.

I took a surreptitious look around me as I picked, but there were no other dwellings in sight. Just miles and miles of forest.

With a sinking heart, I realized they’d picked this location for a reason. It was completely isolated. I plucked a substantial bunch, thanked Kyle, and retraced my steps back to the cabin.

Even if I did try to run, there was nowhere to go.