Page 26 of Broken Vows

"If I say yes," I begin quietly, "what happens to who I am? To my career, my choices, my life?"

"You become Vincent Russo's wife. Everything else we figure out together."

"That's not an answer."

He moves closer, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. "It's the only answer I can give you. This world doesn't come with guarantees, Melinda. Only probabilities."

My reflection stares back at me—pale, shaken, a woman who thought she could outrun her blood. Behind it, the city glitters like scattered diamonds, beautiful and deadly.

"I need a shower," I say suddenly. "I can smell gunpowder in my hair."

Vincent sets down his glass and moves toward me. "Come on. I'll show you to the guest suite. You can clean up there."

He leads me down a hallway I don't remember from that night together, past abstract paintings and floor-to-ceiling windows. The guest suite is smaller than the master bedroom but still luxurious—cream walls, a king-sized bed, and an en-suite bathroom with marble finishes.

"There should be everything you need," he says, opening a dresser drawer and pulling out a set of silk pajamas—women's, in soft gray. "These should fit."

I take the pajamas, our fingers brushing briefly. "You keep women's clothes on hand?"

"They were my sister's. She stays here sometimes when she's in the city." His expression is unreadable. "The bathroom has fresh towels, soap, whatever else you need."

"Thank you."

I close the bathroom door and strip off my scrubs, noting the concrete dust and glass fragments that cling to the fabric. Evidence of how close I came to dying tonight.

The hot water cascades over me, washing away the chaos of the night. The emergency room, the gunshots, the fear—it all starts to fade as the steam envelops me. I stand under the showerhead, letting the water pound against my skin, trying to rinse away the adrenaline and the lingering scent of gunpowder.

I scrub myself meticulously, feeling every scrape and bruise from the garage floor. The soap lathers into a rich foam, and I watch as the suds swirl down the drain, carrying with them the remnants of the night's terror. Steam fills the bathroom, creating a temporary sanctuary from the chaos that follows me everywhere.

I close my eyes and let my mind drift. Four months ago, I never would have imagined standing in Vincent Russo's shower, carrying his child, contemplating his proposal. Four months ago, I was Dr. Melinda Mason, trauma surgeon, a woman who had successfully escaped her family's bloody legacy. Now I'm back where I started, except with even higher stakes.

The water begins to cool, signaling the end of my temporary reprieve. I turn off the faucet reluctantly and step out onto the marble floor, reaching for one of the plush towels on the warming rack. Only then do I realize I've forgotten to bring clean clothes into the bathroom with me. I wrap the towel securely around my body, tucking the edge between my breasts to hold it in place.

The mirror has fogged over completely, obscuring my reflection. I wipe a small circle clear with my palm and stare at myself. My eyes look back at me, haunted yet determined.

Great.Doctor by day, mafia bride by night. Just what I wanted.

9

Melinda

I take a deep breath and open the bathroom door, releasing a cloud of steam into the cooler bedroom air.

The sudden temperature change raises goosebumps across my skin. I step into the bedroom, my wet hair dripping onto my shoulders, leaving damp spots on the white towel.

My toes sink into the plush bedroom carpet, towel barely holding on, and then I freeze.

Vince is standing there. Casually on his phone in the bedroom. Shirt undone. Tie loose. Eyes locked on me.

He stops when he sees me, his dark eyes traveling the length of my body in a way that makes my skin heat despite the chill.

For a moment, neither of us speaks. We just stare at each other, tension crackling between us.

I’m barely dressed. In his space. At his mercy.

But I don’t feel afraid. I feel... alive. Like I did that night.

He steps closer. Slow. Like he’s giving me time to run. I don’t.

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