Page 3 of Solemn Vow

“I’ll be there in a minute,” I assure her and text the same message to him.

He won’t leave if I tell her to send him away, and I’m too tired to have an argument with him. This is my job. I can’t have him coming in here scaring people. I’ll make it clear to him.

The next time I see him.

Which is not right now.

I grab my purse and coat and head to the back exit.

I’m not sitting in a car for the next twenty minutes with that man. I have to figure out where I’m going to get another two hundred dollars by tomorrow. There has to be something I can sell.

I used to keep an emergency fund in the bottom of my closet in a shoebox. Maybe I still have something in there.

I check the time on my phone. No time to swing by the apartment now. I’ll check first thing when I get home tonight.

The cool air hits me as I step into the back alley. Thankfully, it’s too chilly for the stench of the garbage cans to fill the air.

Just as I walk to the end of the alley, a black car whips around the corner and comes straight at me. It’s coming too fast for me to see the driver, and I scramble to the side of the alley, pressing myself flat against the building.

The car comes to an abrupt stop right in front of me. The side windows are tinted, hiding the driver.

My heart jackhammers my ribs as fear clings to my lungs.

Jimmy said I had until tomorrow.

But since when did criminals have morals?

The door to the car opens and one black boot touches the ground as the mammoth of a man climbs out, slamming the door shut behind him.

If the building wasn’t behind me, I’d run.

His jaw sets.

His fingers flex at his sides, and he takes careful steps toward me until the toes of his boots touch the toes of my black flats.

“Viktor.” I say his name, forcing steel into my voice.

His black eyebrow arches to a perfect peak over his left eye.

“Marlena.” My name slides off his tongue like silk running over itself.

“You didn’t need to come get me.” I clear my throat, trying to make myself stand up straight. It’s nearly impossible with those eyes boring into me.

“We’re going to the same place.” He lifts a hand, presses it to the building on the right side of my head. “Why wouldn’t I drive you?” His palm pushes against the brick on my left side. I’m caged in.

“I…” I have no answer. Other than when he looks at me like this, my insides shiver, and I don’t have time or patience for this mess right now.

“Are you going to get in the car, or are you going to make this harder than it needs to be?” His accent makes the little threat feel so much darker.

Damn Isolde for getting involved with the Petrov family. And damn her husband for having such an overbearing, stubborn, and stomach-droppingly handsome cousin.

“What does the hard way look like?” Why am I asking? Of course it’s going to be something outrageous. Everything this man does and says is insane.

He moves one hand from the wall to his waist, where a thick black leather belt loops through his jeans. I swallow back a moan.

“So, which way, Marlena?” He levels his eyes with mine.

He’s serious.