Page 4 of His Ruthless Vow

Luca shrugs, straightening his Italian silk tie with those calculated movements that make people forget how dangerous his hands can be. "Not my problem. Armando can handle his own collections." His emotionless eyes scan the reception, uninterested in anything that doesn't directly benefit him. "Unless it somehow affects Skye, I don't give a shit who owes what to whom."

His dismissal only fuels my curiosity. I set my empty whiskey glass on a passing server's tray, my focus returning to Kendra and thisGriffin. The band transitions to something slow and jazzy, the kind of music that gives people permission to stand too close together.

Griffin's hand settles on Kendra's waist, fingers splaying possessively against the navy fabric. She doesn't move away. Instead, she leans into him when he whispers something against her ear. Her laugh carries across the garden—rich and genuine—the kind of laugh she's never given me.

I tell myself I'm just cataloging details. Assessing dynamics. It's what I do. It has nothing to do with the way his thumb brushes the small of her back, or how she tilts her head to look up at him, that half-smile playing on her full lips.

"You might want to ease up," Luca says, motioning toward my hand. "Before you snap it."

I look down to find my replacement whiskey glass clutched in a white-knuckle grip. I force my fingers to relax, one by one.

"Eighty grand," I say, more to myself than Luca. "Seems like a lot for someone in marketing."

"Gambling," Luca replies, already bored with the conversation. "Started with sports betting, escalated to high-stakes poker. Armando gave him plenty of chances before word started getting around that the guy can’t pay up. He’s blacklisted and watched right now—at least with us.”

Griffin leads Kendra toward the dance floor, his hand never leaving her body. Something sharp and cold settles in my chest as I watch them move together. Not jealousy—I don't do jealousy. Just annoyance. Professional irritation at seeing someone so clearly in over their head acting like they own the world.

"Funny how debt makes men desperate," I observe, straightening my own cuffs. "Makes them do stupid things."

“It seems like the only thing you find stupid is the way he’s so close to her.” Luca chuckles, the sound as cold and empty as everything else about him. "Thinking of collecting another stray?" he asks dryly, watching my face for any reaction.

I know exactly what he means. First Paige, the chaotic yellow Lab who burst into my life by chasing a squirrel through my yard and demolishing everything in her path. Then Penny, the neurotic Australian Shepherd I found cowering behind a dumpster during a collection. Both disasters in their own way. Both now sleeping on my imported leather couch every night.

"Fuck off," I tell him without heat. We've known each other long enough that he can cross lines no one else would survive. Just like few would talk to a Don that way.

"You've got a pattern, Rossi," he continues, unmoved by my dismissal. "Broken things with big eyes that need saving."

I take another drink instead of answering. On the dance floor, Griffin's hand slides lower on Kendra's back, nearly grazing territory that would force me to separate his fingers from his hand. She shifts subtly, repositioning his touch to somewhere more appropriate without breaking their rhythm.

Smart. Assertive without creating a scene. That's Kendra all over.

"She doesn't need saving," I finally reply, the words coming out rougher than intended. "But her taste in men is questionable."

"And yet here you stand, watching her from across the reception instead of doing something about it."

I shoot him a dark look. "I'm not doing anything about it. I'm making observations."

"About?"

"About how interesting it is that she has no idea what kind of trouble her date is in." I straighten my tie, a deliberate movement to conceal the tension coiling through me. "While I know exactly how deep that particular hole goes."

Information is currency in our world. Griffin might have Kendra's attention right now, but I already have the upper hand. Nearly eighty grand to Armando isn't just debt—it's a noose. And Griffin's neck is already in it.

Kendra laughs again at something he says, her head tilted back, exposing the elegant line of her throat. For a second, my mind flashes to how that smooth skin would feel under my lips, my teeth.

"You're doing it again," Luca observes, that damn knowing smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

"What?"

"Looking at her like she's already yours."

I don't answer.

Probably because it definitely feels like sheis.

3

KENDRA

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