Page 81 of Vows of Blood

Reassured, his broad shoulders relax a little, and his attention drifts towards the French doors, and snags on Sienna's bikini-clad form.

"Should I give these to your fiancé or..." He takes a step toward the door and possessiveness, immediate and ugly, flares to life inside me.

"No," I bark, then exhale loudly. "Leave them in my room. I don’t want anyone else to see them. I'll show them to her myself later."

Corso's eyes flicker with amusement when I move to block his view outside, but he nods, tucking the folder under his arm. "Your father called me. Twice. He's... not happy. I gave him an update on the investigation as best I could. He asked me if this marriage nonsense was a threat. Whether you’ll call it off if he steps down as planned…"

He thinks I’m blackmailing him. That I’m only pretending to marry Sienna because I know how much he’ll hate that idea. He thinks I’m banking on him stepping down before the wedding to prevent it.

"Did he now?"

Sienna puts down her book, her attention moving to Roman as he comes outside to stand guard, leaning against the wall to take the weight off his injured leg. He hasn’t been working since the shooting but insisted on returning for light duty today. I would be pleased to see him if my beautiful, half-naked fiancé weren’t so eager to engage him in conversation.

"Orlando’s telling him you got Maeve to send out that message to embarrass him." Corso glances out at Sienna, concerned. “If he gets worked up enough about this wedding, who knows what he’ll do.”

Corso knows of my father’s vindictive nature and Orlando’s growing influence on him.

"Let him come."

My course of action is set. I won’t be swayed by his threats.

Rather than being scared, I’m looking forward to it. He’ll prove my point that he’s too volatile to lead. And if he dares try to run off Sienna again, this time, I’ll be here to stick up for her. Like I should have been before.

Outside, Sienna turns onto her stomach, the strings of her bikini top loosened to avoid tan lines as she continues to toss questions at Roman, who looks confused. Most people ignore my guards completely. His job is to watch, not chat, yet Sienna seems determined to make him her new best friend.

"What's the status of the wedding security?" I ask, staring with gritted teeth as one of my most loyal men chuckles, actually chuckles, as Sienna regales him with some tale. Cracking my knuckles, I move closer to the window, watching in horror as he pushes off the wall and moves closer.

"On track. I’ve beefed up the number of guards even though the guest list will be smaller."

Because Sienna has no family left and her friends, well, most of them still live in her home town hours away.

Corso disappears down the hall to put the folder in my room, leaving me to stare in disbelief as Sienna rises from the chair and kneels at the edge of the pool in front of Roman. Reaching behind me, my fingers wrap around my gun as she reaches for him.

Red mist descends over my vision, for a second, thinking she’s about to reach for his belt. Instead, she rolls up his pants, exposing a hairy leg to the sunlight, and presses her fingers into the muscle of his thigh.

Roman yelps, but she holds firm, manipulating the flesh while he looks heavenward, sweat beading on his temples, and jaw clenched. The fact that he’s in so much pain rather than enjoying her touch is the only reason I haven’t put a bullet through his brain already.

Then she releases him, demonstrating some stretches while practically naked. In a bikini.

She's touching another man, putting her lithe body on display for him, while I’m getting nothing but curt answers and glares.

Fuck that.

Stomping over the shattered vase, I shove open the French doors hard enough that they bang against the exterior wall.

Both of them look up, Sienna's expression infuriatingly blank, while Roman's shifts rapidly to alarm as he registers the look on my face. He gestures for Sienna to stand, swatting away her hands when she reaches for him, and limps back, hands raised in surrender.

"What the fuck…" I say, the words spoken deathly quietly, as I close the distance between us, "do you think you're doing with my wife?"

23

SIENNA

My wife.

The words hang in the air, spoken dangerously quietly, and a thrill runs down my spine that I absolutely should be ashamed of myself for.

Roman takes another rapid step back and nearly falls into the pool, his face draining of color as Luca advances on us, taking his time, letting his guard sweat.