Page 128 of The Oath We Give

I arch an eyebrow, begging him to test me right now.

Daniel shakes his head, scoffing about how unbelievable I am about making him do his job. He picks up the papers that had fluttered onto the floor before pointing a finger at me.

“I told the board this would happen. Your mental disorder makes you unpredictable, thinking with your emotions and not your head. You are not fit for CEO.”

“Get out of my office, Highland.”

“You better hopeCarolineand you can last in that sham of a marriage. That seat is mine the moment you sign the divorce papers.”

My jaw twitches.

The air in my office becomes this thick, heavy pressure that builds with every word out of his mouth. It’s a sweltering, suffocating heat that radiates from deep within me like heat waves off hot asphalt.

Daniel continues to ramble, standing up and running his mouth, thinking I won’t fire him because he’s worked here for so long. Losing his job is the very last thing he needs to fear right now.

My palm finds the cool metal of my gun. Like the moon calls for the tide, violence finds me. The pad of my finger traces the curve of the trigger, its familiar power thrumming through me.

When he turns to face me, ready to give me another piece of his lackluster mind, he stills, frozen in shock and terror that lasts maybe two seconds before the sound of a bullet abandoning the chamber rings out between the walls of my office.

Daniel’s girlish scream makes my ears itch. He falls to the ground, clutching his leg while dark, crimson liquid bleeds from the wound just above his kneecap.

He’s writhing in pain, trying to crawl back toward the door with tears streaming down his face as I stand. The smell of gunpowder and lead pumps liquid adrenaline into my heart.

I squat down so that we are at eye level when he cowers into the corner, trapped with nowhere to go and no choice but to face the hollow barrel of my gun.

The side of the weapon catches the overhead light.

Fear no evil. The shadow and valley are yours.

I press the butt of the gun to his throat, lifting his chin so he’s forced to look at me, wanting him to see just how very little I value his life.

“Tell me, Daniel.” I tilt my head, a smirk at the corner of my lips. “What’s my wife’s name?”

His lips tremble, and his eyes dart away from mine as he swallows hard before uttering one whispered word. “Coraline.”

“Remember that name. It’s the one that spared your life.”

* * *

My blood is still roaring in my ears when I step into the bridal shop, the sweet-scented air a direct contrast to the gunpowder lingering on my suit.

I’m lethal artillery walking into a place that reeks of feminine softness, adrenaline still pumping through my veins as I step onto the thickly carpeted floor. Designer gowns hang from racks around the room, the white dresses glowing like spotlights.

“Sir.” A lady dressed in a simple black matching skirt-and-blazer set steps into my line of sight. “Can I help you?”

“Where’s my wife?”

My hands remain in my pockets as I stare down at her expectedly. I’m in a foul mood, and the only thing that’s going to keep me from being a massive asshole to everyone I come in contact with lies between Coraline’s thighs.

My mind is at war, and I want the solace only her body gives.

Realization dawns on this woman’s face. “Mr. Hawthorne, I’m so sorry—I had no idea you would be joining the bridal party today. They are just in the back. Let me just see if they are decent—”

“You and your staff are going to take an extended lunch,” I interrupt, pulling my wallet from my pocket before thumbing out a few hundred-dollar bills and offering them to her. “Flip the Closed sign when you leave.”

I’d already bought out the shop for the day, meaning I didn’t have to worry about other soon-to-be brides filtering around. I know attention makes Coraline nervous, and I wanted her to enjoy today. As much as she could under the circumstances, anyway.

“Of course.” She clears her throat, accepting the payment. “Your privacy is our utmost concern. Is there anything else I can assist you with?”

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