Page 89 of Filthy Promises

“Maybe.” I offer a weak smile. “But I’m not.”

He nods, understanding passing between us. “Sleep well, Rowan.”

The door closes behind him, and I’m alone in the quiet luxury of his guest room. I sink into the impossibly soft mattress, too exhausted to even pull back the covers.

I meant what I said. I’m not afraid of Vince, even though I’ve seen firsthand what he’s capable of. What scares me is how much I still want him, despite everything—or maybe because of it.

That realization follows me into dreams filled with gunshots, blood on the pavement, and blue eyes watching me with fierce protectiveness as the world falls apart around us.

26

VINCE

I stand in the doorway, watching Rowan sleep.

She didn’t even make it under the covers. Just collapsed on top of the bed, still wearing my shirt, her body finally surrendering to exhaustion after everything she’s been through.

EverythingIput her through.

Her face is peaceful now. The cut on her cheek has stopped bleeding, but the angry red line remains—a permanent reminder of how close we came to something much worse.

I should leave. Give her privacy. There are a dozen calls I need to make, arrangements that won’t wait.

Instead, I find myself moving closer.

Her hair fans across the pillow, tangled and still spotted with debris from the crash. One hand curls near her face, fingers bent like she’s reaching for something even in sleep.

I’ve seen countless women in my bed over the years. Beautiful women. Powerful women. Women who knew exactly what they were getting into with a man like me.

None of them have affected me like her.

None of them have made me question everything I’ve spent my life building.

It’s fucking infuriating.

I reach down, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. She doesn’t stir. Her breathing remains deep and even.

“What am I going to do with you?” I murmur, though I know she can’t hear me.

The cut on her cheek makes my stomach clench with a rage I’m not accustomed to controlling.

I’ve felt anger before. This is different. This is white-hot and chaotic. This makes me want to burn the whole fucking world down for daring to harm her.

I pull the throw blanket from the foot of the bed and carefully drape it over her. She sighs in her sleep, turning toward the warmth.

Quietly, I leave the room, closing the door behind me.

In my office, I pick up the secure phone and dial.

“It’s me,” I say when Arkady answers. “I need a security detail at Rowan’s apartment building. Four men minimum. Around the clock surveillance.”

“Already in place,” Arkady replies. “Sent them the moment we dropped you off.”

I nod, even though he can’t see me. “Good. And the hospital?”

“Two men outside her mother’s room. Another two patrolling the floor. The staff thinks they’re private security hired by the family.”

“They are now,” I say. “Make sure they know to be discreet. The mother doesn’t need to be alarmed.”

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