Page 66 of Hostile Vows
He was horrified.
As we lay in bed together, closer than ever, and André spoke of a ruthless war that could finish him, I made a burdensome decision. Even though I truly wanted my husband, I had to do it. I followed through on Frankie’s order to fuck my husband, unprotected from pregnancy, and yet absolutely certain it was the only way to save the people in my life who mean the world to me. For my own survival and theirs, to save myself from heartache and a doomed future with Acer.
Besides, André planned for us to have a baby together eventually—though I’ll never admit it that over the past few days, my heart had secretly warmed to the idea of us creating our own little family one day.
Now I’m lying here alone, wide awake in a massive bed fit for a king, the sheets puddled around my waist and my sleepy eyes gritty. Since he’d walked out of the room, I’ve heard a collection of muffled voices, all of them fierce and serious.
My pulse races, scared of the gathering and what it might mean. Retaliation. War. A risk that could put Mammy in the firing line of a prowling sniper or an undercover assassin. Or a bloodthirsty battle to wipe out André and his loyal friends.
Throwing my legs off the bed, I force myself to stand and notice a bittersweet ache between my thighs and the soul-crushing thump of a headache. I sway a little, taking a moment to stretch out my jaw as I steady myself and then make my way to his huge walk-in closet on the other side of the room. Once inside, I pick out one of his hung t-shirts and get dressed. It’s brand new, regretfully not carrying any trace of his virile scent.
When I reach the top of the staircase, mumbled conversations grow louder, as does the clatter of ammunition and weapons. I tread carefully, every step stiff and cautious. Reno stands beside André by the windows, both of them in head to toe black combat gear, their chests strapped into slim bulletproof vests. Letterman holds court near the kitchen, discussing tactics with a bunch of armed men, all similarly dressed.
Perched on the final step, what little energy I have left quickly withers. I look over at the team of soldiers, my eyes still burning, with a lump forming in my throat. The seriousness on André’s face sends waves of fear through me, made worse when his eyes lock onto mine. He frowns, and the staircase moves beneath me.
Before I hit the tiled floor, he’s there, his solid physique next to me, his heartbeat thrumming against the side of my face when I’m effortlessly hoisted into his arms. I breathe him into my lungs, relaxing immediately.
“Why are you out of bed, Sin?” he murmurs on an exhale, almost chastising me.
It feels good in his arms. Safe. When he carefully places me on the couch, I sit upright even though I'm light-headed.
“Where are you going?” I ask, wringing my hands.
“You don’t need to concern yourself with it. I’ll be back by sunrise.”
“Please, Dré, listen to me,” I plead, feeling a trickle of debilitating sweat roll down the length of my spine. “Frankie will kill you. He’ll kill everyone we care about.”
He hunkers down to eye level and stares at me. “Wecare about?”
“Yes… he…”
Something dark passes over his rugged features. “What did he say to you in the hotel? You remember, don’t you?”
I swallow, feeling sick to the pit of my stomach. “Your reputation precedes you, Dré. Frankie knows the honeymoon period has an expiration date. You admitted it yourself.” My breathing is all over the place, erratic. “You knew he wanted an heir. He told me to hurry up before…”
“Before I move on to the next woman?” he grits out, his mouth contorting into a grimace.
I nod slowly. “He’ll start a war with the Souzas if we don’t follow through on the agreement. But if you go after him or I don’t get pregnant soon… he’ll kill you and… he’ll kill my mother, Dré. He has men watching her in Ireland, waiting for the order to do it. Whatever you’re about to do—please don’t.”
He stands, smooths a hand over his hair, and before I can say another word, he lashes out and cuffs my wrist in his large hand. This time, his touch isn’t gentle or thoughtful; it's unkind—impetuous.
“Letterman, get everyone out of here. I’ll be on the roof in five,” he commands, his eyes turning pure black.
With his team behind us in the living room, he roughly manhandles me into his office and spins me around to face him. The rapid movement makes my headache pound that much harder, causing me to sway.
Moonlight shadows half of his face as he shakes out his shoulders a few times and watches me in silence. He’s magnificent, if not terrifyingly tainted with danger.
Except, the way he’s glaring at me has my pulse jumping, as if he’s preparing to put a bullet in my heart. I inhale a shaky breath, straighten my posture before him, and pull myself together.
“Let me get this straight, Sinéad…” His gritty tone is wrapped in a thousand shades of black. “Upstairs, when you fucked me like that—like a wife who needed her husband to be gentle…” The hands by his hips fist as he snaps, “… that was you obeying Sapori? You rode my dick to save your mother?” Beneath a hardened layer of anger, I sense fine cracks bleeding hurt. “You seduced me because that bastard told you to get pregnant, right? Did you stop taking your birth control too?”
“He planted false birth control in my bag. I haven’t been protected this whole time.” My heart beats faster when he swallows hard. “But what happened upstairs… I let my guard down because I think this can really work… me and you. It was my decision, not his order.”
In a flash, his face is too close, his fingers burrow into my cheeks. “Bullshit. You never wanted this in the first place. I thought…” His peppered jaw ticks as he stops himself short. “I should have left you in the past.”
My temper snarls from under the fragility of the headache. “News flash, Hotshot… you knew I didn't want to marry anyone, yet you made me yours, anyway. So, you understood the assignment—scratch that, youagreedto get me pregnant whetherIwanted a baby or not. You’re a damn hypocrite, Dré. He has a bullet for you… and one with Mammy’s name on it and he’s waiting in her shadow to use it. You knew he wanted an heir, so why the hell are you angry with me, huh?”
When he growls, pristine white teeth clench behind his lips, the deep rumble freezing me to the floor. His chest rises as he breathes and his hand sails to the material covering my braless breasts rather than my bruised throat.
