Page 86 of Ruined Vows
Fuck him.
He’s wrong.
I haven’t even begun. But it’s a problem for tomorrow because I have a war to win, and a woman to claim.
The lights arelow in the back office. Only Luka and Dragan sit across from me. They’re the ones who do what needs to be done when no one else will.
David’s loyalty has been tested.
Emilia’s already ten steps ahead.
Her accent is clean but carries the edge of old Belgrade. It is clipped and precise, the voice that can slice through a boardroom without rising, which is good because she’s my political advisor.
Luka scrolls through a tablet, something encrypted flashing across the screen. Dragan picks at a tooth with a switchblade he hasn't even noticed he’s holding.
I start without ceremony.
“I want Milan isolated.”
Luka doesn’t flinch. “Publicly or surgically?”
“Surgically. For now.”
Dragan grins. “About time.”
“No rumors. No waves. Just silence,” I say. “Start shifting his assets into my oversight—quietly. Remove his people from shared spaces. Reassign his drivers. Cut the perks without explanation.”
Luka raises a brow. “You want to starve him.”
“I want him paranoid. But not provoked.”
Dragan leans forward. “And when he makes a move?”
“Then we make him disappear loud enough that the council stops wondering who’s next.”
Luka nods slowly. “This is the beginning of a power cleanse.”
“No,” I say. “This is me sending a message.”
Dragan smirks. “What’s the message?”
I look at both of them. “Family isn’t immunity. It’saccess.”
They get to work, and I head home. I have a bombshell blonde who needs my attention.
The summer air rolls in through the open terrace doors,thick with night jasmine and the heat of something about to shift.
Just me, a glass of bourbon sweating on the marble table, and the hum of cicadas rising like a warning.
I sit in the west wing alone, texting Bianca.
Pack a bag. Three days. I’ll be at your door by seven.
Then, I count the minutes until she returns my text. She hasn’t answered. This isn’t good because Bianca doesn’t hesitate unless she’s thinking too hard. And when she thinks, she plans. And when she plans, she plots.
God help me—I hope I’m the target. I watch the screen. Sip once. Wait. The dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
She’s annoyed. That’s good.
