Page 31 of Deceitful Oath

“At three in the morning?” I can’t help but laugh. She makes a little defiant sound of confirmation. “Okay, I’ll pick you up after work.”

We say our goodbyes and I hang up, that stupid smile sneaking right back onto my face. For a second, I wonder if Ishould call Enzo and cancel tonight’s hit on her apartment. She’s had enough bad luck for one day. What’s the harm in giving her a little grace?

Then Vince wanders into my office, his cold eyes staring me down warily. He sits across from me, pouring himself a drink.

“You’re in a good mood today.”

One look at his face, and the tone of his voice, and I immediately decide not to call off Enzo and his team. My father’s voice rings in my head, driving the point further.

You need to show them who you are. The son of Dominic Romano. Powerful. Lethal. Bullet-proof. The Wolf.

Lux might think I’m a big, cuddly dog, but she doesn’t know what’s inside of me. She might call me Wolfie, text me that she misses me, and plan ice cream dates, but she has no idea who I really am.

And if she knew the real me? She wouldn’t like him one bit.

***

I pull up to The Velvet Room, knowing I need to be careful. If the Mancinis caught wind of me creeping around their territory, toying with their staff, they’d be pissed. I keep the tinted windows rolled up, watching the door for Lux.

When she glides out of the bar, all flowing golden waves of hair and tanned limbs, my heart feels too big for my chest. Every time I see her, it’s like the first time—I’m awestruck, frozen, a silly boy with a crush.

How does she do this to me?

She spots my car and dashes across the street. Tossing her tote bag in my back seat, she climbs in and beams up at me. I stare back like a lunatic, a huge grin stretched across my face.

Suddenly, it feels too real.It is too real.When did I stop acting and start genuinely smiling?

“Hi,” she breathes out, leaning over the console and planting a soft kiss on my lips. I thread my fingers through her hair and pull her back before she can move away. My hands slip down to her bare shoulders, my fingers struggling with her contraption of an outfit.

“Wolfie!” She smacks my hand away. “Not here.”

I groan, leaning back in my seat and grinning at her. “What kind of grown-ass woman wears overalls? They’re impossible to take off.”

“That’s exactly why she wears them,” she grins back, buckling her seat belt. “To ward off wandering fingers. Ice cream now, please.”

I chuckle and start the car. My heart is soaring, my head firmly floating in the clouds. I try to reign in these pathetic feelings but fail miserably. She chatters about her day as I guide us through the dark streets of my city, enjoying the way her voice sounds.

“Where are we going, by the way?”

“It’s a secret.” I wink at her.

“I figured we’d just pick up ice cream from a gas station or something,” she says casually, but I can see that she’s pleased about our adventure.

“Gas station ice cream? Please, what kind of man do you think I am?”

“A good one,” she answers softly, smiling out the window as the city speeds past us.

I let that sentence settle into my core.A good one.

Would she still think if she knew what I was doing? How I was ruining her life little by little? If she knew how my family made their money and built a black-market empire?

We drive in silence as I ponder these questions, and what her answers might mean for me.

Eventually, the cityscape falls away and she gets excited by the open pastures and mountains. I didn’t plan to take her an hour outside the city, but my body was on autopilot.

As we pull into the parking lot of Route 42, she gasps. Her eyes are alight with stars and her mouth opens in shock.

“What is this place?”

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