Page 39 of Dangerous Devotion

But it was easier this way—easier to create distance, easier to send her away, easier to keep her safe.

And then, she raised her hand and cupped my cheek. “It’s okay,” she said.

I turned my head, dislodged her hand.

She narrowed her eyes, and the surprise in them slowly transformed into hurt, then anger. She took a step back.

Good.

This was what needed to happen. Distance meant safety. And as soon as this wedding was over, I needed her as far away from me as possible. “Go get prepared,” I said, turned back, and sat down behind my desk, dismissing her. “I’ve got work to do, and I can’t have any distractions.”

I didn’t look up when the door opened, didn’t look up when it closed again with a click. But the finality of the sound settled into my chest. As if it was the sound of the door to my heart, which had been opened briefly, being shut again.

CHAPTER TEN

Iclosed the door behind me, leaned against it, and tried to calm my speeding pulse.

What the hell was wrong with this man?

First, he did everything to seduce me, then demanded I marry him, then convinced me of how we were a team and how he wanted me by his side, and now, he basically ignored me and acted borderline disgusted by my touch.

What the everloving fuck? I clenched my hands into fists at my sides and chuckled sarcastically.

I knew Vince Salvini was bad news from day one. I knew his mood swings were whiplash-inducing. But I didn’t think he really suffered from dissociative identity disorder on top of being an overbearing asshole.

Vince the Prince, who was warm and overly cuddly, possessive and protective, who promised a future and intimacy and even talked about starting a family. That Vince had pretended we were a team.

But that Vince wasn’t the person who was just in there.

This Vince was all business as he laid out his reasons for our wedding. This was the Mafia boss I’d read and heard about. The evil prince, the Anti-Christ, cold and calculating.

And here I was, idiot me, who stood up to my father and declared I wanted to marry him.

Well, now, I could start planning a wedding that suddenly was back to being a strategic move instead of a celebration…of what? Love? He’d never told me he loved me, though…so was it just me misinterpreting his words? Misinterpreting his actions?

Was it all just flattery to get me to have sex with him? If someone showed you who they were, believe them.

And wasn’t that the crux of the problem? Vince’s mixed messages?

What if all of his actions were just a cover for his true motive? Had all of his tenderness just been part of his master plan? Had I been just a pawn in his grand scheme?

Probably, very likely.

I exhaled, straightened, and walked away. Screw him.

My feet carried me aimlessly through the sprawling house, my mind replaying the events of the past few hours. The rooftop attack flashed before my inner eyes—the terror, the gunshots, the feeling of Vince’s arms around me as he shielded me from danger. The way he pushed me into the helicopter, the way he pulled me into his arms after landing the helicopter. The way he made love to me and how he let my father beat him up.

All of this really happened. And in all of these situations, he never pushed me away, never dodged my touch—to the contrary really.

It was as if the revelation about his father’s betrayal had flipped a switch in him. As if the shock of it made him revert back to the cold-hearted Mafia boss.

How could a parent put a hit out on their own child? I couldn’t even… Yes, they weren’t on good terms and possibly in a power struggle over who would be or remain the head of the Salvini family. But killing your own children—that was insane.

And now this—a rushed wedding, planned not for us but as a strategic move, a powerplay in this dangerous game.

It was almost comic. Even 72 hours ago, I was pissed at the mere thought of marriage. Then I made my peace with it, and now? I understood the reasoning, but the fact that it was just a ploy…it stung.

Was this what my life would be like as Vince Salvini’s wife? Always second to his business, his vendettas, his fight for power and control? Never sure which of his personalities would show up—if he even would come home.

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