Page 101 of Vicious Vows

“You wasted your time. There is nothing Gian can do in this situation.”

“You don’t know that,” she said.

“You need to drop this.”

“I can’t.”

“What did you ask him to do?”

My stomach coiled into a tight knot when I thought about her visit with Gian. She had been inside my organization for months and was privy to crucial information. One little slip up, and I could regret having her with me.

“I told him about Miguel and how the cartel was making your dad find out who was responsible for his disappearance or death.”

Fuck!

“He didn’t know, but he suspected your dad’s disappearance had something to do with the cartel. My father can?—”

“Stop talking!” I bolted from the bed and scooped my pants off the floor. “Your father can’t do anything because he knows nothing, and even if he did, you don’t have anything to bargain with.”

I grabbed her clothes and tossed them at her before putting on my pants.

“Your father will expect something in return.” Pacing the floor, I stopped in front of the closet door and pounded my fist into it. “That’s how this works.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t know. You don’t have anything to give him in return.”

“I might,” she whispered.

“All you did was give him information he didn’t have before. Now he has leverage against me.” I ran my hand along my jaw. “You’ve given him enough to go poking around and cause more aggravation for my family.”

She quickly put on her clothes.

“What else did you tell him?” I asked.

“About what?” She joined me by the closet. “I wouldn’t tell him anything I know about you and your business.”

“You told him about Miguel and the cartel.” I should kill Ricardo for trusting her with that information.

“I did that for a reason.”

“Why can’t you stay out of my way?” I opened the closet door and hurried inside. I skimmed my fingers along the row of expensive dresses and glanced down at the boxes of designer shoes she had stocked the walk-in with. Having her here with me, sharing a room, sharing a home, seemed so natural.

“I’m not trying to get in your way.”

“Why do you want to blow up my life?” I asked.

“I don’t.” She placed her hand on my shoulder. “Do you really want me out of your way? Is that what you’re contemplating now? Sending me back?”

“You don’t want to know what I’m thinking.” Giving her back to her father would be the easiest solution. “But I’d love to know what you were thinking when you went to him and told him all about my dad.”

“I thought I could help.”

I spun around and glared into her eyes.

“I know you don’t want my help, but whether you want to admit it or not, you need it.”

“You’re right.” I toned down my volume. “I do need your help.”

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