Page 29 of Of Vows and Betrayal

“And what about what I asked?”

Derek sighs, shakes his head, and turns toward his screen. “In the black bag by the door,” he adds, effectively dismissing me.

I stand up, grab the bag, and stop just before opening the door.

“She’ll be fine.”

Hedoesn’t reply, and instead of leaving it at that, I insist.

“I know what I’m doing, Derek. I’ve been planning this for a while.”

“You have,” he concedes, keeping his back to me. “I don’t really care. I’m not the one who will have to live with that on his conscience.”

I can’t help but argue. “In the art of war, we must accept collateral damage as an inevitable outcome. As Sun Tzu said, ‘All warfare is based on deception,’ and often, the cost of victory includes unforeseen sacrifices.” I throw my hands up in exasperation, even if he can’t see me. “And just add another black mark to my soul. I have far too many anyway.” I open the door. “I’ll see you later,” I say, turning to leave, fully aware that he wouldn’t respond.

I take the elevator down two levels to the parking garage, and as I walk to my car, I slow my steps.

A prickle of unease crawls up my spine, the oppressive silence of the garage broken only by the distant drip of water, making me acutely aware of the unseen eyes tracking my every move.

I stop a foot from my car and turn around briskly. Gino, Bergotti’s hulking enforcer, lurks in the shadows, his presence menacing.

I’m surprised he’s here, but know how he found me. He probably put a tracker on my car—something I would have done too.

The bag now feels like it weighs a ton—too important to be this close to Bergotti. I keep my face impassive, put thebag in the trunk, and lock the door before walking leisurely toward the guard.

“Boss wants to talk to you.”

Yeah, I figured, I think, but I nod and follow Gino to the black sedan, getting in as he opens the back door.

“Mr. Vargas,” Bergotti says solemnly, staring at me from across his seat.

“Mr. Bergotti,” I reply in a similar tone.

He clears his throat. “I didn’t know you were still working there.”

“You said the job was temporary—a year at most. I’m not burning all my bridges for this, no matter how good the money is.” I’m prepared for all his questions.

“Are you romantically involved with my daughter?”

My heart skips a beat. “Excuse me?” I force my voice steady, but inside, panic swirls.

“You heard me.”

“Yes, I did. I just think the question is so absurd I’m convinced I misheard.”

His nostrils flare, and his mouth twitches in obvious irritation. “You see, I went to dinner at my sister’s yesterday, and her husband had a lot of questions about you. It seems that Sophia had a lot to say about your visit to the mall.”

That little…I try to keep my face as expressionless as possible, thankful for all my years of experience entering boardrooms driven by my desire to rise to the top to exact my revenge.

“Did he also tell you the amount of abuse she’s thrown at your daughter? All she saw was someone standing up to a bully. I am hired to protect here; there’s nothing more.”

“Sophia is a member of the Gambino family. She’s not just anyone’s daughter. You are merely a bodyguard. Know your place.”

I’ll show you my place soon enough, I think, grinding my teeth.

“Ophelia needs to learn to stand up to people if she wants to. I hired you to keep her alive, not to babysit her. It’s not your job to defend her from her own family.”

No, it’s yours. I feel an almost overwhelming need to defend her, and it unnerves me. I’m so close to breaking character and coming to her rescue—to tell him that she’s all that’s right with the world when he and his people are not. This realization takes me by surprise, and I hate it. I need out… now! This almost visceral reaction is terribly wrong for me and what I’m trying to accomplish. I need to put distance back. It’s getting far too muddied and messy between us.

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