Page 90 of The Vow

It had been so long.So fucking long…

“You should sit,” I told her, and it must’ve been the strangled grip around my voice that made her comply without protest.

Walking to the bed, Robyn sat on the end. Her hands curled into the duvet as though she knew this was going to be a roller coaster and needed to hold on.

Meanwhile, I went to the window and planted one hand on the glass. “The truth.”

Funny how I’d imagined this moment since the second I honored my promise to Sandrine. Years stacked upon years preparing and perfecting how to evacuate the truth about that day, and now, when the moment came, my confession…my honed explanation evaded me.

But only briefly.

One look at my wife’s beautiful face shimmering in the reflection, and I knew I’d find a way to tell her the truth even if I had to slice my wrist and spell it out in blood.

“Do you remember why I proposed to you?” I asked, lowering my arm and facing her, making sure to keep my back pressed to the glass; I needed the physical anchor to tether me at a distance.

“Of course. Sinclair wanted to…force me to marry Uzair Shazad. What does that have to do with why you left?”

“Because.” My throat worked to swallow. “Because when I took you off the table, Sinclair needed someone else.”

“Sandrine?” Robyn scoffed in disbelief, but when I shook myhead, her brows knitted together, and I watched the darkness settle on her face when she realized who. “No…”

“He was going to give Daria to Uzair.”

“No—she was a fucking child.” She bolted upright as though this were happening now and as though thechildin question hadn’t aged in fifteen years into the woman engaged to her adopted brother.

“Robber,” my voice grated, my eyes flicking to the bed.

Her nostrils flared, but she slowly returned to her perch. “So, when Sinclair found her again…”

I’d told Sandrine three years ago it was too dangerous for Daria to come to the States for school, but she’d never been able to say no to her daughter. And coming to New York had alerted Sinclair to their presence. He found them, killed Sandrine, and then pretended to be Daria’s protector, all the while…

“It was to fulfill a bargain that was made over a decade ago.”

Flecks of angry gold appeared in her eyes. “I wish you would’ve killed him.”

The night Harmon had saved Daria from her father, it had been with my help, and in exchange, Harmon had left Sinclair to me.

“It would’ve been so easy, Robber,” I confessed. “Too easy.” A man like that deserved to rot the rest of his life knowing everything and everyone he’d sacrificed for power and influence…only to fail.

“So, Sandrine realized what he was going to do to Daria,” she murmured, returning back to the past.

“She called me that day because she overheard Sinclair talking—preparing to exchange their daughter for a business deal. She was crazed. I mean, you know how she…” I cleared my throat. “Daria was the only thing she cared about. The only reason she stayed with him.”

Robyn gave a slow nod.

“When I got to the house, she was already packed. She demanded I get her and Daria out. Away from him. She went on about some place in France that belonged to her family—family she’d lied to Magnus about not having.”

Sandrine Decatur was a colorful person. She felt big and dreamed bigger. She wanted fame and fortune, and when she came to the States, she found it was easier…that it made for a better story if she was a poor French orphan looking to catch her big break. Her parents had cut ties with her when she left, so when she met Magnus, she’d never told him the truth about her parents; why would she? They hadn’t been in her life for years. Or maybe she knew deep down they’d sense the kind of man she’d chosen…and the qualities in him she’d overlooked because of his wealth.

“Of course, I wanted to help her. I was infuriated at Magnus for selling”—I broke off with a grimace—“I couldn’t imagine what Sandrine was feeling. But to help her…”

“Meant going against him.”

My chin settled into a nod. “You know how sequestered he kept her. As soon as she was gone, if I were still there, he’d suspect me.”

“So, you either had to blow your entire mission—our mission—or leave Sandrine to fend for herself.”

“It was never a choice, Robber,” I rumbled, and the sudden glow of her eyes told me it was the right thing to say. “I let him get away with a lot of things—helped him get away with a lot of things, but not this. Not a child.”

---