Page 101 of The Vow

I choked, my glass clanking on the table as I glared at my husband, who ignored me. But it was Belmont’s instant frown and change of topic that reminded me of what Pat had said.

I was Damon’s weakness.If they knew how much he cared for me, it would be dangerous for us both. The only way to protect me—to warn the rest of them to keep their distance—without betraying his feelings was to become the epitome of a chauvinistic criminal. One these men would recognize. One who treated women like property. Something to be defended, not respected.

To add insult to injury, Damon looked to Amir and added, “I want to assure you, Mr. Shazad, I take only the utmost care of the goods entrusted to my possession.”

And just like that, my husband’s display of violence became a justified show of character and force for the man he needed to trust him—to want him as part of this massive deal.

And so, I lowered my head and pretended to let my anger seethe. The more they believed I despised Damon for what he’d done and how he treated me, the safer we’d be.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Robyn

“Lock it.” They were the first words Damon had spoken to me directly since I’d arrived, the edge to his voice cutting as deftly through the silence as his knife had gone through the guard’s hand.

Thankfully, there’d been no further mutilation nor more unveiled threats during dinner. Though, every time Uzair’s eyes drifted to me, I felt the ripple of Damon’s tension.

I’d sat mostly in silence, listening to Damon sell himself and the assets of his operation to Shazad and Belmont, and did my best to hide my unexpected awe.

I didn’t think there was anything left to surprise me about my husband, but hearing him outline all of the resources he brought to the table, from the type of trucks and packaging to the mileage and average time it would take to transport the raw drugs provided by Shazad to GrowTech’s laboratories, and even down to who would be driving and how the drugs shouldbe repackaged to go back out for sale…he knew every piece. Every moving part. He was a puppet master who knew the beginning and end to every single string.

“Was that all real? What you told them?” I asked as I turned the lock on the door, though it would make no difference. We both knew Belmont would have keys to enter every single room in the house, and locking the door would do nothing to stop him if he wanted to come in here.

“Of course, it’s real, Robber,” Damon said smoothly as I turned, catching him slide his hat off his head with a sigh. “You don’t get anywhere near these men without something that’s real.”

Pressing my hand to my chest, I felt the knots inside begin to tighten and a sizzle of heat curl like a vine along my spine.

I shouldn’t be impressed by the criminal empire my husband had built. Yet, objectively, it was impossible not to sink into astonishment, to feel my mind crack and split under the enormity of what he’d created with nothing more than the persona he’d assumed.

For the last decade I’d thought of him as a kind of amorphous antihero. The stories of his success, his conquests, the rumors of the phantom-like reach of his empire—they made me believe I understood the complexity and grandeur of his infamy. But sitting next to him, listening to him, it felt like I stood at the base of the pyramids, having heard about their feats of strength and ingenuity and craft, tales of their size and splendor for so long, and realizing none of it compared to the reality of being in their presence,knowing he’d done it all for me.

The Egyptians had built their pyramids to take them to the gods, and Damon Remington had built his empire to bring him back to me.

In all the stories, every hero, ranging from gallant to morally gray, is willing to burn down the world for the woman he loves. Romantic but simplistic, for burning something only takes a single match. But Damon,my husband,he hadn’t burned the world for me, he’d built one.

He’d built an entire empire with neither the government to protect him nor Sinclair to recommend him. With targets on his back from both sides of the law. With nothing but his name, his reputed skills, and not even the slimmest chance of success. And yet, he’d still done it…for me.

And if I hadn’t heard him reveal the breadth and depth of his resources, I wasn’t sure I would’ve ever fully comprehended just how much… just how utterly everything Damon had done to find me and make these men pay.

“Damon,” I murmured as he opened the armoire to hang his jacket, his silence like a weapon the way it arrested my steps only partway into the sprawling suite.

The bedroom was no different than the rest of the house. A shrine to the hunt. To the conquering. To murder.

A chandelier crafted out of antlers hung like a threat over the large pelt-draped bed. Behind the bed hung a huge painting of the killing of an elephant by poachers, and nausea twisted my stomach when I saw the ivory sconces on either side of the bed. And then on the wall opposite the armoire hung the bust of a bison over a small gas fireplace, the animal head far too big for the space it occupied.

But that was the point. There was no style or design to the space; the aesthetic was simply death, and it was fitted with as many icons of killing as possible.

“I’m going to kill him for bringing you here.” Damon finally spoke, his voice as cold as the snow pelting the windows and as pointed as the mountain peaks it covered.

I’d expected his anger, but I wasn’t quite prepared forthis. The sharpening of his jaw. The twitch of his lip. The way his gray gaze pierced mine. I’d even witnessed the consequences of it when he’d staked Peter’s hand to the table. Yet all those allusions were like finding tracks in the woods or scratches on trees; evidence the bear existed without ever seeing it.

But now, I saw the beast.

I set my shoulders back and folded my arms. “I threatened Pat at gunpoint to bring me.”

His jaw fired. “Then he should’ve chosen the shot.”

“Damon.” My jaw dropped, and then I snapped it shut. “You can’t be serious, Damon.Youshouldn’t be here alone. Not with them,” I blustered, the surge of emotion propelling me toward him. “I can’t believe your plan was to leave me behind. After everything—after last night, I wake up with you gone—without so much as an explanation?—”

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