Page 69 of Sovereign Oaths

“I won’t.” She smiled up at him, then pushed him aside.

Cruz stole a kiss as I ushered her through the room to the front door. If I didn’t keep her moving, we’d never leave, which I suspected was her goal.

“We’ll be outside if you need backup.” Javi took her shoulders and planted a kiss on her lips before stepping back.

“He promised a quiet, peaceful, uneventful night,” she mumbled with a huff.

“And he’s so good at keeping his promises.” I slipped my hand into hers and tugged. “Come on.”

“Goodbye. Farewell. Remember me.” She waved dramatically to the guys as if I were leading her to the gallows.

I ignored their laughter and shut the front door behind us. They would follow in a few minutes to keep up the pretense of me being her only bodyguard.

“What’s that?” she asked as we headed toward the dock.

“It’s our new boat.” I helped her step down into the fully covered seating area.

“No more wind?” Her awe grew as the captain started the short crossing. She touched her hair. “I could cry.”

“Hey, no more crying! That’s the point.”

It took a lot of complaining to get Rod to allow us the upgrade. Mostly me sending him videos of her bitching every single time we got on the old boat. It wore him down, and he sent me a little bonus in exchange for never sending him another. Maybe I’d get her a shirt that said, “I survived living on Fisher Island” when this was over.

Dias was waiting for her just inside the lobby with three men behind him. Ama spotted Em first and hurried over.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” She air-kissed both cheeks before leaning in and whispering, “Pedro’s here, and he’s acting so strange. I need your help figuring out what’s wrong.”

Em’s brown eyes flickered to the man in question, and she gave her a small smile. “On it.”

“Mi amor.” Dias slid his arm along Em’s bare back and pulled her hips toward him. “I’ve missed you.”

He nuzzled her neck before kissing her behind her ear. Every second of training in my life was for moments like this—exercising self-control not to snap and either shoot him or rip his arm off for touching her.

“Let’s get inside.” He led the group up the grand stairs and passed the VIP sign in front of another set of narrow stairs where an attendant nodded at him and let us pass.

He ushered Pedro and Ama into the door leading to the box suite, then glanced at me. “Security will stay in the hall.”

Em blinked up at him. “Yours can.” She turned and crooked her finger at me. “Mine will stay at my side.”

She headed inside, and I ignored his annoyed glare as I followed. She was my boss, not him, and I’d love to witness their argument if he tried to push the issue.

The theater was even smaller than I expected from the pictures and layout online. It had a short orchestra section and a lower balcony level, with private boxes along the sides with eight seats in each. Dias hadn’t mentioned anyone else attending with them.

He came in, shutting the door behind him, and took the last seat in the first row next to Em. Ama was next to her, sharing worried looks before frowning at Pedro. I hadn’t spent much time caring about the man. He seemed fine and came back clear when we checked him out. He was a family friend, though, and not directly involved with the business. Close enough that he was on our list but not being monitored or tracked. If something was going on with him, we didn’t know about it.

Then again, they could be having relationship issues that had nothing to do with illegal dealings. What a novel concept.

I stifled a chuckle.

The lights dimmed, and a spotlight lit the stage as a middle-aged man with a long graying beard took the stool and began playing without any preamble.

He was very talented, but the performance didn’t hold Em’s attention. Her eyes darted around the theater without moving her head. Dias was captivated, oblivious to her boredom. Ama spent more time watching Pedro than the stage, and he seemed to be purposely not looking at her.

Awkward tension was building, but I seemed to be the only one aware.

Four, maybe five, songs in, and I was struggling to stay focused. No matter how incredible it was to witness someone effortlessly play a twelve-string guitar, the excitement wore off quickly.

My mind wandered, a danger in my field, so I shifted positions, leaning slightly against the back wall, and checked out the other suites. Nothing new. No changes.

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