Page 73 of Solemn Vow

Our bedroom.

Our home.

Everything I have is now ours, because I’m going to be spending the rest of my life with this woman. And if that means I have to take painfully slow steps to make that happen, I will.

“I need to be there at nine. Their pictures are set for two o’clock and the wedding itself is at four.” She rounds the banister and kicks off the black thin-heeled shoes, bending to scoop them up and head into the bedroom.

“A car will be ready for you at eight. Whenever you’re ready to go, they’ll be there. I gave Mrs. Ivankova the weekend off. Her son is in town from Russia. Do you want me to set up the coffeemaker for you or do you want to grab coffee on the way tothe event?” I work open the diamond-encrusted cufflinks from my sleeves.

I drop them into the small dish on the dresser, catching her gaze in the mirror when I look up.

Her head is slightly tilted to the right, like she’s trying to figure out something and there’s the gentlest of smiles on her lips.

“What’s wrong?” I turn to face her.

“Nothing’s wrong.” She drops the shoes. “That’s the problem,” she mutters to herself as she works the clutch open and pulls out the necklace I’d given her earlier.

I take it from her.

“I think you were right. It must have gotten caught on your jacket when I put it on. The clasp opened just enough for the link to slip out.”

I examine the clasp and frown.

“I’ll take it to my jeweler tomorrow. After I have a word with him on his cheap craftsmanship, I’ll get it fixed.”

“Don’t go all Viktor on him. It was partly my fault. I should have been more careful when I was taking the jacket off.”

I lift an eyebrow. “A simple tug of a fabric shouldn’t have opened this. He took advantage of my patronage and tried to get away with cheap materials. I won’t be using him again.” I drop the necklace into the dish with my cufflinks.

“Do you think he gave you a bad diamond too?” She leans over the dresser and pokes at the necklace.

“No. I brought the diamond to him; I needed a chain for it and wanted the chips of emeralds placed around the diamond for you.”

“You had the jewels already?” She looks up at me as though I’ve admitted to mining the raw materials myself.

“They belonged to my mother. I brought them with me when I moved here from Russia.”

She jumps back from the necklace as though I’ve just sprayed her with ice water. “You gave me your mother’s jewels?”

“I had the necklace made for you, yes.” I nod.

“Why would you do that?” Her voice is soft, her eyes wide.

It’s this innocent wonder that makes me want to place her in a bubble and never let anything come near her again. How can she not understand how valuable she is?

“Because I knew it would look beautiful on you, and it did.” I grab her hand, kiss the inside of her wrist. “Do not make this into something to fight about.”

“I don’t want to fight with you about the diamonds,” she says. “They are beautiful. Thank you for doing that.” She gently tugs her hand away and goes back to the clutch she left on her nightstand. “I need to tell you something.”

I brace myself for whatever bad news she’s going to throw my way. She’s done something that’s going to make me want to bend her over my knee and turn her ass ruby red.

It’s the only reason she’s taking the necklace information so easily. She’s buttering me up.

She brings her cell phone over to me. After swiping through an app, she hits a button and hands it to me.

“No wonder your uncle let you rot in the pen.” Antonio Donato’s voice plays from the recording. I look up at her, watching her expression as the rest of the short conversation plays out and the file closes.

“How did you get this?” I ask, a chill running up my spine. How close to their conversation was she when she recorded this? How much danger was she in?

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