Page 24 of Vow to Me

“That shit doesn’t matter, Luca. I loved your mother from the second I laid my eyes on her,” he says with a wistful smile, “tell mesomething, if you were in a room with two dozen other people, would you be able to sense her? Do you always need to be touching her? If she’s in pain, do you feel it too? What would you do if she was in danger? If she was hurt? What do you feel when you imagine your life without her?”

I think back to the shooting at the restaurant and not only the rage that I felt that she was hurt, but the worry too. I think about my constant need to take care of her, about how I need to always have her in my arms, about how I’d burn the fucking city to ashes after painting it with blood if she was in danger and if I think about her not being in my life anymore? I can’t, it’s too fucking painful, just the thought alone makes me feel as though my soul is ripping in two, my throat closes, and I struggle to take a breath.

Oh fuck, he’s right. I’m so fucking in love with that woman, I’ve had these feelings since pretty much the beginning I just didn’t know what the fuck they were.

“Fuck, you’re right. I love her.”

He laughs at my obvious demise and drops the subject. We eat breakfast while discussing today’s meeting, tonight’s gala and anything but my new revelation and I say goodbye to Dad and Beatrice.

I make my way over to Enzo’s to have the chat I promised Dad I’d have with him. I called ahead to make sure he’s not out lurking in some alleyway watching the girl he’s so obsessed with, and, apparently, I’ll have to make the visit quick because she starts work soon.

Enzo’s sitting on the floor of his apartment staring out the window at the city when I arrive. He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t even see me approaching as I sit down on the floor next to him. I’ve never seen him life this before, it’s fucking worrying.

“What’s up man,” he says and turns to me with a lost look in his eyes.

Fuck, this is bad.

Enzo is the joker, the one who never has a thing in the world to worry about, because he usually just doesn’t fucking care. Enzo’s mind works differently, he’s never once formed an emotional attachment. Sure, he likes me, Marco and our father well enough, he’d take a bullet for us. But he’s not one for love, for friends, forfeelings.

“What’s going on? What happened?”

“Nothing’s going on, just feeling different lately, I guess.”

“Well Dad sent me to make sure you’re not gonna hurt this chick you keep following around, is she the reason you’re feeling different?” I say softly, not wanting to make him skittish. I feel like he should come with an ‘approach with caution’ warning.

“Hurt her? Are you fucking crazy!” he roars, making me rear back. “I’d never fucking hurt her, she’s a fucking angel sent from above, I’ve been watching her to make sure she’s safe! She walks alone! At night! I need to protect her, and I do it from the shadows because I don’t want to taint her light with the fucking dark cloud that lives within me, I’d rip my own goddamn heart out, sell my soul, and tear myself to fucking pieces before I ever let Robyn gethurt. Jesus!” he explains before standing and storming out of the apartment.

I’m not sure what the fuck just happened, or what sort of spell thisRobyngirl has put over my brother, but at least I don’t have to worry about him hurting her. What I am worried about isherhurtinghim.

We’ve just finished up with the meeting with Andrev, where we discussed our new alliance and how our deals are going to go into the future. The meeting took longer than expected, I had to text Izzy halfway through to let her know I’d be later than expected and that I’d meet her down in the lobby again.

Andrev met us at one of our warehouses as a show of good faith, which was fucking ballsy of him, but also lucky for me because I keep a stash of suits and tux’s here for times like today.

I quickly shower and change before heading to my Bugatti to go pick up Izzy. Now that Novikov is no longer a threat, and we only have the Columbians gunning for us we decided we’d be okay to ditch the drivers.

Muñoz may be a sly piece of shit, but he’s not stupid enough to try something right now while we’ve got men from Chicago and the Russians on our side.

I drive through city, dreading tonight’s event. Everyone who’s everyone will be there, Muñoz will no doubt be there too. We have an agreement that even when shit is going down in theunderworld, we don’t bring it to places like tonight’s gala. Not only would we end up fucking arrested if something happened during an event like that, but we do a lot of business with the officials of the city, and they need to keep that quiet from anyone who were not in business with, never a good look being in the pockets of a criminal organization. Though to most of the public were perfectly civilized businessmen.

So, that means I won’t be able to throttle him on sight tonight, I’ll also have to keep an eye on my crazy little wife and make sure she doesn’t get any bright ideas about stabbing the fucker either.

I pull up outside our building, hand my keys over to the valet and make my way into the building to meet Izzy. Just as I’m approaching the elevator, the doors open, and my wife steps out.

Even though I’ve already seen her wearing the dress she bought for tonight, she still takes my breath away,

Fuck, she’s a fucking vision. She has on light makeup—never one to overdo it—and has her long blonde hair styled in waves, similar to how she wore it for the wedding. She looks like an angel. Expect I know she’s not, she’s my little demon begging me to take a ride down to hell with her.

She’s fucking gorgeous, and I run my eyes up and down her body again, taking in the shape of her curves that I can’t wait to strip bare and—wait a fucking second.

“Please, for the love of fuck, tell me your wearing panties under that dress,” I growl as I pull her into me and dip my lips down to hers.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Izzy

Luca pulls me into a kiss that has my brain short-circuiting and has my insides electrifying. Any previous thoughts of him wearing a tux gone, all that’s left is the way his body feels against mine, his taste, how his tongue teases mine and how his intoxicating scent makes me dizzy with lust.

I pull back, needing to catch my breath and clear my head before I end up doing something like dropping to my knees right here, or begging him to fuck me up against the elevator door for the whole lobby to see.

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