Page 39 of Vow to Claim You

She turns back to the window, watching the world pass as if memorizing it, as if grounding herself in motion.

Minutes pass. Maybe more. Then her voice cuts through the quiet, softer than before.

“Why did you do it?”

I don’t ask her to clarify. I know exactly what she means.

“Domenico threatened your life.” I look at her, though she doesn’t look at me. “I vowed to protect you.”

She exhales slowly, like she’s choosing her next words with care. “Is this what protection looks like?”

“Yes,” I state without hesitation. “I will kill any man who so much as considers hurting you.”

Her breath catches slightly. She turns fully toward me now, searching my face as if trying to find a crack, some hint that this is bravado or posturing or something temporary. She won’t find it. I don’t offer reassurance in lies.

“It was her brother,” she whispers. “Chiara will never forgive you for that.”

“I’m aware. It changes nothing.”

Ayanna turns back to the window. Still here. Still breathing. And that’s what matters to me. She’s alive. She’s safe and sound next to me.

I know Chiara won’t forgive me for this. Her brother is dead by my hand, and no amount of justification will make that clean. Serena will understand, but understanding isn’t the same as trust. Whatever this costs me, it’s a price I already decided to pay.

I made my choice the moment I pulled the trigger, and I’d make it again.

Because I’ll pay any price to keep my wife safe.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Aric

Nikos’s house hasn’t changed. It’s the same as I remember it from years ago, when I was here on business last. Black everywhere. Walls, banisters, columns. Polished stone that drinks light rather than reflecting it. Crystal chandeliers overhead. Marble floors so flawless I can see the shape of us moving across them, distorted faintly, like something glimpsed underwater. Priceless art lines the corridors. Antique furniture. Regal, like his personal castle.

Serena moves ahead of us, heels clicking against the marble. She glances back at us, and her gaze passes over Ayanna, lingers a beat too long, then flicks to me, then to the dining room.

“Everything is prepared,” she informs us. “We notified the staff on the way.”

She offers us rooms to freshen up before dinner. The guest suite is enormous and in the same tone as the rest of the house. Two en suite bathrooms on opposite sides of the bed. Ayanna disappears into one without looking at me. I take the other.

I take a quick shower and change into fresh clothes. Experience has taught me to keep a packed bag wherever I travel.

I’d had Ingrid prepare one for Ayanna as well.

I sit on the edge of the bed to wait, forearms braced against my knees, and try not to listen for the sound of her on the other side of the wall.

The bathroom door opens, and I look up before I tell myself not to.

She steps out, and everything in me stills. A black lace dress slips off her shoulders, skimming her body before falling in a soft line to the floor.

My gaze lingers. One second too long.

Her hair is down in dark waves, brushing her shoulders. Small diamonds decorate her ears. Nothing else.

She doesn’t need anything else.

Fuck.

My pulse betrays me, so I count my breaths instead. We’re in another Don’s house. I have a meeting in fifteen minutes… and my wife stands in front of me looking like she chose the dress on purpose.