Page 56 of Dangerous Vows

I take her hard and fast against the wall. Amara stifles her scream when she comes. I pump her hot pussy a few more times before filling her with my seed.

It was too quick—but a blessing, considering the saleslady pops in to ask if everything’s okay.

“Fine,” I reply. I grab my pants and pick up the lingerie at our feet before cracking the door, and gingerly hand it to her.

“Wrap everything, please.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Amara chuckles.

“I’ll take that as a complaint.” But when I turn to help Amara dress, she’s smiling, and that’s worth more than a million dollars.

When we left the store, I decided the day was still young, and there were plenty of shops to visit. As we walk to the vehicle, I catch her glancing up and down the street, and I can’t help but wonder who she’s looking for… is it Miloš? Or her father?

From there, Joseph drives us to a designer boutique, where the argument picks up right where we left off.

But the entire afternoon, I know something is afoot, and I can’t figure it out, which frustrates me even more. I can’t keep her safe if I don’t know what I’m up against.

“Pietro, I don’t need this many pairs of heels,” she protests, holding up a pair of Louboutins like they’ve personally offended her.

I pluck them from her hands and add them to the pile. “You do now.”

She crosses her arms. “You can’t just?—”

“I can.” I lean in, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear and dropping a kiss on her crimson-red lips. “And I will.”

She exhales sharply but doesn’t argue further. Ha. Victory is mine today. And just to make her really uncomfortable, we hit the Dior store next.

We don’t stop until I’m satisfied that she’s outfitted in the latest designs and has a wardrobe fit for a Princess.

Joseph chuckles as he opens the trunk for the obscene number of bags.

“Take us home,” I instruct Joseph as I guide Amara into the vehicle.

She shakes her head as we settle in, staring at the pile in the backseat. “This is ridiculous.”

I grin. “You’re smiling.”

She collapses onto the couch at the penthouse, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you love it,” I say as I pull a small velvet box from my pocket and hand it to her. She eyes the box suspiciously. “What now?”

“Open it.”

She hesitates, then carefully takes the box from me. When she flips the lid, she gasps. Her eyes lock on the delicate necklace—a thin gold chain with a diamond pendant that catches the light just right.

She swallows hard. “Pietro…” Her voice is barely above a whisper, thick with emotion. Her fingers brush the edge of the velvet box. “It’s beautiful, but… I can’t accept something like this.”

She doesn’t look at me when she says it. Her jaw tightens, and her eyes glisten from disbelief.

She loves it. She doesn’t think she’s worthy of it.

I take the necklace and move behind her, brushing her hair aside to clasp it at the back of her neck. My fingers graze her skin, and she shivers.

“It’s too much,” she says quietly.

I tilt my head, studying how the diamond rests against her collarbone. It catches the light, and it’s pretty, sure. But she’s exquisite.

“Two hundred thousand on a necklace to make you smile?” I say, kissing the side of her neck, smirking as she stills. “Priceless. You’re to wear it all the time. I’m not joking,” I add. “This is one of those rules you have to follow. It marks you as mine.”

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