Page 23 of The Vow

Robyn shifted toward the bar cart, taking up the glass of whiskey I’d poured for her. I swallowed hard when her lips closed on the rim, and her throat bobbed as she took a deep drink.

“I trusted him. I trusted both of them.” She stared into the glass, swirling the last of the liquid like it could take her back in time. “I invested everything I had and tried to move on. A couple of years passed, and when my adopted brothers deployed overseas, I came home from college to clean out a bunch of my things from my adopted family’s home; they’d decided to downsize. In the boxes, I found my mother’s journal and began reading through entries in the weeks that preceded the accident. I began remembering…” She paused and took another drink here. “Somewhere in the shock and grief of it all, I’d forgotten how sick they’d both been before the accident. I’d forgotten their hushed conversations about chemicals and cancer. And suddenly, with that journal, I started to question things I thought I knew—things I’d been told.”

She looked at me. “I began to question if their accident had really been an accident.”

I didn’t move. My teeth clamped into the side of my tongue, holding back the things I wanted to say, afraid that a single sound would spook her.

“I started to look into the accident. Their deaths. Their research. Every year since their deaths, I’d receive an invitation from GrowTech—the company my parents were working for when they died—to the annual fundraiser for GrowGood, the nonprofit organization that was set up, I was told, to honor my parents’ contributions to the company. I’d never gone until that year—last year.”

Rage slithered down my spine, a serpent with scales of ice and venom that turned my blood cold.Belmont.Dozens of people had been scammed by Magnus Sinclair and his investment operation, and if that were his only crime, he would’ve been arrested a year ago, and I never would’ve become Damon Remington.

But it wasn’t his only crime.

Sinclair was a stepping stone. A tadpole in the ocean of bigger fish. Fish like Bernard Belmont, the CEO of GrowTech.

And Robyn was the first of Sinclair’s victims to have a personal tie to the real villain of this story. I knew about her parents, Elle and Maxim DuBois; they were two in a stack of suspicious deaths tied to Belmont and his biochemical company.

“Your real name is Robyn Dubois.” This I couldn’t hold back.

Her gaze lashed at mine. “I was adopted. My name is Robyn Keyes now.”

But it was DuBois.And that meant she hadn’t given Sinclair her real name.

“I went to the fundraiser because I wanted to talk to him—Mr. Belmont. By then, I’d left several messages for Sinclair’s company to get access to my funds so I could use them to investigate my parents’ deaths. I hadn’t heard back, but I was too preoccupied with the chance to talk to GrowTech’s CEO directly that I didn’t think much of it. Until I got there.” She drained the last of the drink with one gulp. “Bernard Belmont went up on stage, the first to speak and memorialize my parents and their work, and then thank everyone for their generous donations to the foundation. And that was when I saw them up there with him, off to the side and in the shadows. Mr. Sinclair and my lawyer, Mr. McCullough.”

My jaw fired in rapid succession. “They’re all in it together.” It wasn’t a question; it was confirmation.

Her chin dropped, part nod, part anger, part shame.

“I didn’t speak to him that night. I didn’t speak to any of them. Nothing about it felt right. When I went to Sinclair’s offices the following week to ask about my account, the woman at the desk told me there was no account belonging to Robyn DuBois. So, that was when I went to the police, and they asked for proof of the trust—proof that I’d signed everything over to Juniper Investments, and I didn’t have it. I was seventeen when it was set up, and McCullough offered to handle everything.” Her sharp stare lifted to mine. “I’d been duped, and I had no recourse. At least none without getting it myself.”

I didn’t get personally involved. I never had. That was the whole reason the Bureau picked me for this op. But right here—right now—I felt fucking personally involved. I felt it because I’d felt her. I’d felt her velvet-skinned rage and the fiery vengeance on her tongue. And I’d protected her. I’d protected her at a risk to myself, and in doing so, I hadn’t just absorbed her into my bubble, I’d also been taken into hers.

“These men do more than steal, Robyn. They killed yourparents. They’ve killed countless people to keep their secrets hidden.”

“And I want them to pay for it all.” She set her glass back on the cart with a soft click, like the shell casing from the bullet of determination she’d just fired from her lips. “They took everything from me. So, no, Mr. Remington—or whateveryourname is. I’m sorry. I don’t want your money or your protection, and I won’t walk away from this.”

She turned and headed for the door, her heels landing like shell casings on the hardwood floor.

Dammit.

Did she not understand what I said? Did she not understand how fucking dangerous this was and what she risked to go on her little vigilante mission?

And why the hell did I care?

My jaw spooled tighter. This was an easy fix. All I had to do was contact my handler, Clancy, and tell him she was a problem, and he would remove her. Take her somewhere safe. Make it very clear that the FBI wouldn’t tolerate any interference in their investigation—or in my undercover operation.

Except I couldn’t.

Goddammit. My fist balled tighter at my side. I couldn’t take this from her, too. It would make me no better than the men we both hunted.

“Wait!” I called roughly, my chest heaving like it was bailing water from a sinking ship. “Wait.”

Her hand was on the handle, the door slightly open when my palm flattened to it and forced it shut. She whipped around, fury smoking the reddish glint from her gaze.

“I won’t change my mind.” Her staunch declaration burned through me. Underneath that soft skin of hers was pure fire.

“I know.” I came to a stop in front of her,banding my arms over my chest. “If you won’t change your mind, then you’re going to work with me.”

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