Page 15 of Fierce Vows

“I’ll be in Cyprus until the end of the month.”It’s the earliest I can call the trip off and not affect the plan Willow appears to have in place, all things being equal, which they never fucking are.It’s my plan to ensure Eduardo understands his place and proves it on his wedding day.Not just to me and his bride, but to every person on the island.

Armand Gallo will wish he was present for this party.

“And the ends to be tied up?”

“If you could have someone house sit for me, that would be ...nice,” I said formally.“But also, there’s a package at the docks coming in before dawn Tuesday.Collection would be appreciated and returned in due time.”

“I’m sure we can arrange something.”

I smile, knowing he can’t see it.Fuck, I rubbed off on that boy well.

Not that he’s a boy any longer.

“How’s my healer?”I change the subject, too curious not to ask.

“Is this Willow asking, or you, Rafe?”A wash of exhaustion eats at Dom’s tone as business is concluded and we’re back to being friends of over a decade of watching each other’s backs and taking bullets for one another.

“Me,” I say quietly.“Thalia was part of my household for a long time.So were you, my friend.”

“I don’t think that will change.”

I laugh.“It had better not.Konnor means to start a war.I’ll need all the friends I can find.”

“I’m sure we can seek a few extras out for your return.”

“Good man.”

I end the call, flipping my phone over in my palm.Willow is out with Suzan planning a wedding, but there’s a small matter she brought up with one of the wives that doesn’t sit well with me, and that needs to be rectified with the would-be groom before the wedding day.

It’s time for Eduardo to get his hands dirty.

****

Eduardo slides intothe back of the car, unbuttoning his jacket, his brow creased.“I assume we’re not going drinking?”he says in heavily accented English.

I slap his shoulder hard enough for the blow to sting.“Good man,” I approve of his methods.“And no, at least, not at first.Done well, we will be drinking after.But first we have work.What do you know of the Benzoits?”

His frown deepens.“An ...ass wipe?Is that the right term you use?”He trails off until I nod.“Yes, an ass wipe of a man, who treats his three daughters and wife poorly.Drinks, gambles, is grossly obese.Small dick.”He lifts one shoulder and stares out the heavily tinted, bullet-proofed windows of my father’s car.

My lips curl.“You speakAmericanobetter than you make out.It’s a good look, my friend.Keep it up.Did you know he rapes them?”I add in.“Almost nightly.The youngest is six, I believe?”

Eduardo swivels to face me, his expression stony.“No.I did not know.”He curses softly, then not so softly.“I am sorry, my Don.Please, take this lapse out on me, and if I may—”

“You will take nothing but deal the punishment out yourself in front of me.Not a test,son,” I pressed the inflection, and wait for him to argue with me as he did in the house, though from the set of his jaw nothing is forthcoming.

“Yes, my Don,” Eduardo says softly.

I smile in his face.“Good.”

The car pulls up out front of a small, dingy restaurant beside my father’s other flourishing businesses.I wonder if we shouldn’t burn the singularly decrepit building down later and call it an insurance job, give the women somewhere else to live.In Suzan’s old house where she’s renovating already, perhaps.

Eduardo steps from the car, buttoning his jacket, his shoulders a hard line.Looking at the younger man is like looking in a mirror of my reflection twenty years ago.It’s a pleasurable experience, and I only wish for the briefest moments that I’d brought Willow to watch the show.

Until we step inside the shithole, and the kid chooses his tool for the day’s work.

He walks straight to the fireplace where embers burn, throwing the poker in, and tosses three logs on, heating the small room past the point of comfort.It’s a simple move, unmissable, but an easy distraction.

I’m the only one watching him.

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