Page 38 of Dangerous Devotion

“Are you sure about this?” Dom asked.

I looked up and met his concerned gaze. Dom had been my voice of reason for years. He knew me better than anyone, even my brothers. He also was the one always to question my decisions—even when others wouldn’t dare. It was one of the reasons I valued him and his friendship so much.

“Am I sure?” I echoed, a humorless chuckle escaping my lips. “No, Dom. I’m not sure of anything right now. But what choice do I have?”

I stood up, pacing behind my desk. The familiar scent of leather and old books, which usually calmed me, now felt suffocating.

“My father wants me dead. He wants all of us dead,” I continued, my voice low and tight. “I can’t sit back and wait for him to make another move.”

Dom nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “I get that. But a wedding, Vince? That’s a big step.”

I paused and realized he didn’t know—I hadn’t introduced Jemma to my best friend. Hell, we’d only just started our relationship. But then, I thought of Jemma’s fierce determination, the way she stood up to me—even to her own father, and the feeling of her in my arms. I thought of how desperately I wanted to protect her, to keep her safe from the storm that was coming.

She wouldn’t be safe by my side. Not safe at all. On the contrary. I needed to create some distance, needed her to be as far away from me as possible—which did not go together with marrying her. Fuck.

I needed the wedding, and then I needed her to go into hiding until the situation was back under control—something she would never do voluntarily.

Ordering her to do it wouldn’t work either, not with her crazy-ass habit of doing the exact opposite of what she was told to do. So that left only one solution: I needed her to believe I didn’t want her anymore—only after the wedding.

“I’m sure,” I said finally, my resolve strengthening. I’d practiced hiding my true feelings all my life—to the point where Isometimes wondered if that cold and dangerous man was me and the other parts were just remnants of the past. I just needed to show her that side of me. Convince her of it.

I sat down again and exhaled.

Dom held my gaze for a long moment before nodding. “Alright,” he said. “If you’re sure, then I’m with you. All the way.” And that was our friendship in a nutshell.

I’m with you. All the way. No matter how stupid your plan is.

The sound of the knock on the door made me sit up straighter. This was it. “Come in.”

The door opened, and Jemma stepped in. One look at her face, and I knew she was not okay. Her eyes were wide, her shoulders slumped.

Guilt hit me like a punch to the gut. I’d been so focused on the threat, on planning our next move, that I’d completely disregarded her feelings.

Hadn’t even considered them.

“Everyone out,” I ordered, not taking my eyes off her as I got up.

How could I pretend not to care about her when all I wanted to do was pull her into my lap, wrap my arms around her, and tell her I was sorry?

As the room cleared, I held out my hand to her. “Come here.”

She hesitated for a moment before she crossed the room and stopped right in front of me.

“I should have checked on you earlier. How are you holding up?”

She shrugged, but I could feel the tension in her body. “I’m okay.”

I took a deep breath, knowing that what I had to say next would make things no easier. “We need to talk about the wedding,” I started.

She stiffened. “Now? Are you mad? We have bigger problems right now…like survival.”

I grinned; there she was, my feisty little punk, telling me how it was. “We will have a big wedding in three days. It’s the best way to gather all the important men in the organization and neutralize my father.” I watched her face carefully for any reaction.

She nodded along, her expression neutral. “Okay,” she said quietly.

Her easy agreement should have been a relief, but instead, it felt all wrong. This wasn’t the fiery, argumentative punk I’d come to know and love.

I wanted to cup her face, force her to meet my eyes, tell her it was not okay. I wanted her to fight me, to demand what she wanted, what she needed.

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