Page 57 of Dangerous Vows

She turns, looking up at me, something unreadable in her expression. “You can’t buy me, Pietro.”

I don’t flinch. I expected that answer—hell, I would’ve been disappointed if she said anything else.

“Good,” I murmur, brushing my thumb along her jaw. “Because I’m not trying to.” I let my gaze fall on the necklace adorning her fair skin. “I don’t want to own you, Amara. I want the world to know you’re mine—because you choose to be.”

She blinks, the fight in her flickering for just a moment, and I feel her hesitate for a second.

“But don’t mistake that for weakness,” I add, my voice dropping. “I’ll burn this city to the ground if anyone touches you.”

The necklace is for her, but it’s also for me. With the enemy sniffing around, I’m not leaving anything to chance. I had a chip placed in it. She’s mine to protect.

The rideto the island is smooth, and the hum of the road beneath us becomes a soothing rhythm. The sun’s fading light casts a golden hue over the water, gilding the world in the warmth that doesn’t quite reach the tension that simmers between us.

Amara sits beside me with her legs crossed, her hands resting lightly in her lap. She’s too calm and composed. She’s pretending not to notice the way I’m watching her, like a puzzle I’m trying to solve with my eyes. My gaze drifts over her—the curve of her mouth that dips above the elegant line of her neck. She’s wearing my necklace, but it pales compared to her beauty. She knows I’m looking, yet she refuses to meet my stare.

The silence is thick but not uncomfortable. It's charged. I feel her nerves even if she hides them well because it’s evident in the way she shifts slightly and glances at me from the corner of her eye. She quickly diverts her gaze as if she’s afraid of what she’ll see if she lingers too long.

“You’ll love them,” I say, my voice low, sure. “And they’ll love you.”

She doesn’t respond immediately, but I catch the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes before she masks it with her carefully constructed poise.

She’s bracing herself, expecting judgment and being treated like an outsider, and never once has she considered that what’s waiting for her might be acceptance.

But Amara doesn’t know that yet.

She huffs. “You don’t know that. What if they don’t like me?”

I smirk. “I know they will love you. Relax,” I murmur, sliding my hand along her thigh.

She gives me a sharp look. “I am relaxed.”

I smirk. “Prove it.”

She narrows her eyes. “And how exactly do you expect me to do that?”

I lean in, my voice low. “Take them off.”

Her brows furrow. “Take what off?”

“You know what.”

She inhales heavily. “Pietro?—”

“Now.”

She glares at me, but there’s a flicker of something else in her eyes—a challenge.

I watch as she shifts in her seat, fingers slipping beneath the hem of her dress. A second later, she’s dragging the lacy panties down her shapely legs. I don’t take my eyes off her as she balls the fabric in her fist and shoves it into my hand.

“Good girl.”

I grin. I sniff them before slipping them into my pocket. She exhales sharply, turning toward the window, pretending to ignore me. But the blush creeping up her neck gives her away.

When we pull up to the mansion, she lets out a breath she’s been holding for miles, her eyes widening as the estate comes into view. Sprawling across ten lush acres, the property evokes the grandeur of a forgotten era—its old-world architecture is more reminiscent of a castle than a home.

I chuckle because she can’t pretend she’s not affected by the magnificence. Joseph stops the Hummer, and I step out, giving Amara my hand for support as she climbs out.

The salty air of the island rides inland on the spring wind, hitting us the moment we step into the plush surroundings. Even though it’s not summer, I can’t help but admire the manicured lawn, still neat and green in its off-season elegance.

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