Page 79 of Vow of Silence

“I said not to follow.” I pause, glancing over my right shoulder.

He sighs out his nose. “You do not tell me where you go, Miss Nastasya.”

“I shouldn’t need to.”

An awkward beat passes with us locked in a standoff. I shift one foot forward. He mirrors the movement. I dash three steps. He strides to catch up.

For fuck’s sake.I spin to face the man. “What will it take for you to turn a blind eye? Just for a night. Money? A hooker?”

He blinks. The only sign the guy is alive.

“Humor me.” I drop my head back and stare at the ceiling, paint peeling away from the crown molding. “Please.”

“Why?” Ivan raises his chin. “What do you do for this night?”

I snap my head forward, narrowing my eyes on the man mountain. “Are you saying you have a price?”

“Depends on reason.” He mirrors my expression.

I squeeze the phone tighter in my hand and fold my arms, tucking the device beneath my bicep. “Relationship building with my fiancé.”

He frowns. Yeah, I’d question that excuse, too, after one look at my puffy, post-crying eyes.

I sigh. “I invited Benito over so we can fuck around. Have some fun. Cheer me up.”

Ivan exhales heavily out of his nose. He studies me a moment, then glances back at my bedroom door. “He leavesbefore four, and I stay right here.” Ivan directs a thick finger toward the boards beneath our feet.

I judge the distance to my room and figure if he hears anything, it’s his fucking fault for listening so hard. “Fine.” Four in the morning seems reasonable. It allows a safety net of two hours before Papa usually rises for the day. “You’re to say nothing of this to anyone.” It’s my house too. If I want Benito here, then there’s nothing my father can do.

But having this time without his judgment or analysis seems important.

Ivan shrugs.

I roll my lips, figuring Benito is worth the risk this fucker will turncoat on me. “Stay here. I’ll be back in less than ten.”

Ivan widens his stance, arms high across his chest.

I spin and dash for the stairs, breezing down the dark steps to coast through the foyer to the front entrance. A dull light emanates beneath the security room door, quiet chatter drifting out of the kitchen beyond. Embracing the shadows, I glide across the polished floor and stop before the giant timber doors.

My heart rate quickens. I roll my lips together and draw a deep breath, forcing my shoulders to relax.

The mechanism groans as I press down on the heavy handle and tug the weighty door inward.

My heart gasps and restarts with a thud as I drink in the devil waiting for me.

Back toward me, Benito pockets his phone and grins as he turns—a lop-sided smirk that promises trouble. His scent gusts over me as he steps closer, rich and masculine—a perfect match for the rogue in a black-on-black suit that tailors perfectly to his honed physique.

He’s had time, or maybe reason, to change since we saw each other last, and I’m not mad about it one little bit.

“Busy night?” More kneecaps to break. More fingernails to pull. Who knows what he’s been up to?

Benito chuckles, stepping past me to enter my home.

I secure the door, casting a glance toward Papa’s office. Darkness envelops the space, all quiet save for the occasional clatter from the cook staff prepping for tomorrow’s meals. He’s likely at the gentlemen’s club, tucked away in his favorite booth, playing the part. At least, that’s what I always imagined when I learned where my father would go most nights and why he was never there for my nightmares after Mama’s death.

We deal with our trauma in different ways, and inviting the son of the enemy into our home is mine.

A strong hand wraps around my waist, and I let slip a startled gasp as Benito tugs me against him. My hands find purchase on the smooth planes of his chest, and I curve my back to see his face better. “Missed me?” The bravado I’d found with Ivan vanishes. My defenses crumble, the tide rising despite my best efforts at quelling the storm.

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