He steps even closer, his body nearly touching mine. “That’s the wisest thing you’ve said all night.”
I should step back. If there’s distance between us, then there’s room to pretend professionalism didn’t fly the coop a long, long time ago. I just need air between our bodies. Space. Safety.
For a long moment, Vince says nothing. Just watches me, his face impossible to read.
Then he smiles—a cold, dangerous curve of his lips that makes my blood freeze.
“Not everything is as black and white as you think, little doe.” He traces a finger down my bare arm. “Business is business. Sometimes, that means removing obstacles. Sometimes, those obstacles are people.”
My stomach drops. “So you are going to kill someone.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t deny it, either.”
His hand moves to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair. Not pulling, just holding. Reminding me that he could hurt me if he wanted to.
“Let me ask you something,” he says softly. “If someone threatened your mother’s life, what would you do to stop them?”
The question cuts straight to my core. “Anything,” I whisper without hesitation.
“Exactly.” His grip tightens. “That’s what separates us from the animals, Rowan. Not the things we’re willing to do. But the reasons we do them.”
It’s twisted logic. Justification for violence.
And yet…
“We should get back inside,” I say, trying to pull away. “People will wonder where we are.”
He doesn’t release me. “Answer one more question first.”
I wait, heart pounding.
“Does it frighten you?” he asks. “Knowing what I am? What I do?”
I could lie. Should lie. But something in his eyes demands the truth.
“Yes,” I admit. “And no.”
His eyebrow raises. “Explain.”
“I’m afraid of what you’re capable of,” I say slowly. “But also… drawn to it. And that scares me even more.”
A slow smile spreads across his face—genuine this time, reaching his eyes.
“Good girl,” he murmurs. “Honesty suits you better than fear.” He releases me, stepping back. “Let’s return to the party. I’ve seen everything I needed to see tonight.”
As I follow him back inside, I wonder what exactly he means. What he saw. What he was looking for.
And I wonder why, despite everything I just learned, I’m still following him at all.
18
VINCE
The drive to my father’s house is familiar. Every bend, every turn, every stoplight burned into my memory from thousands of trips over the years.
I don’t need to focus on the road. Which is good, because my mind is elsewhere.