Page 40 of The Vow

I was sent deep undercover to get enough evidence on Sinclair to prove he was stealing from people and trace the fraud all the way to his higher-up partners who used the stolen money to fund criminal organizations in the States and overseas. But when Sinclair sidelined me from that part of his operation, he replaced my tasks with one new one: setting up a meeting with a man named Amir Shazad.

I learned everything I needed to know about Mr. Shazad before that meeting occurred. Shazad was Pakistani Mafia. The head of the largest heroin distribution operation in the Middle East. A warlord who now wanted to expand his distribution to North America and was looking for a partner.

“And I know that business has nothing to do with Robyn,” I replied, though I wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyonewho tried to pull her into any of this. Or use her to threaten me.

The timer dipped below twenty seconds.

“It will,” Sandrine hissed, shooting me a glare from the side of her eyes. “I heard them talking, Damon. Heard that disgusting son of histalking.”

Uzair Shazad was who she was referring to. Amir’s son. Uzair was here to study business at UC Berkeley, and because of his student visa, Amir wielded his son like an extension of himself, using Uzair as a proxy to meet and negotiate possible partnerships on his behalf.

It was easy to think of Uzair like a puppet; I had. Until I met him. Then I had to wonder if it wasn’t the marionette himself who was pulling the strings. Yes, it was Amir’s organization, but Uzair was no proxy. He was an amoral psychopath who used his father’s wishes to satisfy his own sadistic cravings.

Two women had been killed on campus at Berkeley since Uzair had started there. They were brutally and sexually abused and then stabbed. There was no evidence linking Uzair to the crimes, but as far as Uzair knew, I wasn’t the police. And that meant when he was here, in friendly territory, he didn’t bother to hide the twinkle in his eyes every time he bragged to me about his sexual preferences, casually alluding to how some women just couldn’tsurvivebeing with him.Survive.That was the exact word he’d used.

“He says Amir wants a wife for him in order to cement the deal.”

A wife for Uzair?The equivalent of bringing a lamb to slaughter. And then the full weight of what she was implying hit me like a wrecking ball, a wave of red-hot rage falling like a fugue around me.

“Robyn?”

As though she heard the low utterance of her name,Robber’s eyes found mine through the small crowd, her smile brightening when it found me.

“He doesn’t trust you like you think he does, mon chou.” Sandrine’s whispered voice was almost completely drowned out by the chant of the party.

Oh, I knew that.

Ten seconds.

Was I what drove him toward Shazad? Was this the weapon he would wield to put me in my place? To test my true loyalty and subservience to him by bartering my girlfriend to a sadistic psychopath?

Fuck that.

“I know he doesn’t trust me.” My jaw ground tight. “He shouldn’t.”

Five seconds.

Fury blinded me. The unmetered thump of my heart into my chest beating a truth I tried to ignore. From the moment I laid eyes on her, I’d had one love. She was mine. It was as simple as that. And I would do anything—I would risk this entire mission. Suffer any torture. Inflict any amount of pain, even on myself, if it meant keeping her safe.

I didn’t care if burning down Sinclair’s world would take mine with it. I didn’t want to breathe without her.

I drained the rest of the glass and set it on the closest surface. “Give me one of your rings,” I ordered, drawing Sandrine’s raised brows, though she immediately moved to comply.

Her fingers were covered in jewels. They always were. Her pinkie wouldn’t miss the deep sapphire she pulled from the digit and handed to me.

Four.

“I owe you,” I told her quietly, unable to explain just how much I was in her debt for the warning.

Three.

I pushed through the crowd, not caring who I bumped a little too hard along the way. There was no hesitation as I went to her. No second thought or concern for consequences. Nothing but hot, aching desperation as I hauled her into my arms, feeling her searching gaze on mine.

“Damon…”

Two.

I pressed my mouth to her neck—to the beat of her heart I’d willingly lend my own to protect.

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