Page 185 of Filthy Promises

This time, I protect my heart.

53

VINCE

The ride from the motel to my family’s estate feels longer than it ought to.

If I were a different kind of man, I might try to fill this silence with something. Apologies. Promises. Fucking small talk, if that’s all I could conjure up.

But I’ve never been that man, and trying to become him now would just be another lie between us.

So I let the silence roil, watching the city fade into suburbs, then into the rolling countryside of upstate New York. Watching her.

The purple shadows beneath her eyes tell me she’s barely slept. The tight line of her mouth shows she’s still furious. The slight tremble in her fingers when she pushes her hair back betrays her fear.

Idid this to her. Me. The man who swore to protect her.

I feel like fucking shit.

“We’re almost there,” I say finally, my voice rough from disuse.

She nods without looking at me. “You still haven’t told me exactly where ‘there’ is.”

“My family’s estate. About forty miles outside the city.” I lean forward, pointing through the windshield. “Just beyond those trees.”

As if on cue, the dense forest breaks, revealing the sprawling Akopov compound. Ten acres of manicured grounds surrounded by a high stone wall. The main house is old money—Georgian architecture, three stories of pale stone and ivy, with a circular driveway leading to imposing double doors.

“Jesus,” Rowan mutters. “Is that a moat?”

“Security ditch,” I correct. “With sensor alarms and reinforced barriers underneath the water. The bridges are weight-sensitive and can retract.”

She turns to me, one eyebrow raised. “Do you have boiling oil to pour on invaders from the battlements, too?”

Despite everything, a smile tugs at my lips. Even now, wounded and angry, she’s still defiantly herself.

“Unfortunately not. Health and safety regulations are a bitch.”

She almost smiles back. Almost.

Then her face shutters again, the wall between us reasserting itself.

The car slows as we approach the front gates. Two armed guards step forward, hands resting openly on their holstered weapons. I watch Rowan tense at the sight.

“This is a bit excessive, isn’t it?” she asks. “What’s this place guarding, Fort Knox?”

“Something far more valuable.” I catch her eye. “My family.”

The guards recognize the car and wave us through, but not before conducting a thorough check of the undercarriage with mirrors and scanning devices. Standard procedure.

For me, at least. For Rowan, it’s her first glimpse of just how serious this world is.

“Why bring me here?” Rowan asks as we pull up to the main house. “Why not just take me to your penthouse?”

“Because this is where you’ll be safest.” I turn to face her fully. “And because, if we’re going to start over—if I’m going to earn back your trust—you need to see all of me. No more shadows. No more half-truths.”

You need to see that I’ll burn everything to the ground before I let anyone touch you again.

The driver opens my door. I exit first, scanning the perimeter out of habit before moving around to Rowan’s side. I offer my hand, though I never in a million years expect her to take it.

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