Page 68 of Vengeful Vows

Rafael:

He chose to hand himself in to the authorities. He’s been remanded until Monday.

After a quick grind of my jaw, I end our conversation the same way I did with Darius.

Me:

I’ll reach out when I need you.

I’ve only just stored my wallet when I recall not all the heat in my veins is from Paarth’s injudicious mistake.

Me:

Keep my whereabouts off my mother’s and Fyodor’s radar until I’m back on deck.

A smirk tugs my lips at one side when I read his response.

Rafael:

Already done.

It fades when another message pops up.

Rafael:

They think you’re deliberating on *their* top picks for the future First Lady.

I picture his disgruntled moan when I send a thumbs-up emoji before storing away my phone.

Although I could leave the store attendant’s fate in my team’s hands as I did both the building supervisor of Mara’s building and Paarth, I’m too bristling with annoyance to let his demoralizing gawk slide.

“You like her.” I’m not asking a question, so it doesn’t sound like one.

He tries to play it safe. “Who?”

I stare him dead set in the eyes while lying through my teeth. “My wife.”

“Wife?” He chokes on the word I struggled to express without cringing only last month. Now it rolls off my tongue as natural as I breathe air. “I didn’t know she was married.”

“She is,” I lie again, stepping closer. “And I don’t appreciate people looking at what ismine. Especially men undeserving of her time.” There’s no missing the possessiveness in my tone. It is full of warning and silent threats. “So anytime you see her,I suggest you look the other way.” He stiffens abruptly when I add in Russian, “Or lose the ability to see entirely. The choice is yours.”

The color in his cheeks drains as his smile vanishes. “Of course. I meant no harm.”

He loses the chance to add more assurance to his reply when Mara’s scent tickles my senses. She places her minimal purchases on the counter before digging through her purse for some bills.

“I’ve got it.”

She tries to stop me from grabbing my wallet. When she is unsuccessful, she uses words. “It’s fine, Ark. I can’t invite you to eat and expect you to pay. That isn’t how hosting works.”

She can speak without a stutter because the cashier isn’t game to lift his eyes from the register. He punches her purchases into a dated cash register before bagging them and handing them to her.

I accept them on Mara’s behalf before placing my hand on the small of her back and guiding her outside. She doesn’t stiffen from my hands being on her. It is from the cashier’s clamber for a morsel of power.

“Congratulations on your recent nuptials.”

29

MARA

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