Page 95 of Hostile Vows
I hold my breath, my blood roaring in my skull. My eyes dance between the three men, each of them owning killer instincts and capable of justifying murder for the greater good of the Souza family business. Visually, they’re an attractive trio, dressed in designer clothes and harboring concealed weapons upon their fit bodies. They ooze power and chaos, yet the bond humming between them is natural and heartwarming. It's a respite of light within twisted darkness. As I watch them together, I don’t hate the evil shadowing them with death. Somehow, I feel connected to it—to them.
Reno offers me his hand and cute dimples dent both of his cheeks. It’s a rare smile and one I don't think I’ll see often. I latch on and return his handshake. Neither of us speaks, yet a mutual pact buzzes from him to me. A fire burns in my belly, fierce and energetic.
Letterman checks his phone. “Reno is right. There’s a threat out there and we’re sitting ducks. The crew is loading the yacht as we speak. It will be stocked for a week and ready to cruise by sunset. We need to get clearance from the U.S. Coast Guard for marine transit through the security zone. I’m pulling a few strings to get it sorted quickly.” His wicked grin tells a thousand tales of persuasion. “That will give us plenty of time to kill some fuckers and find out who’s targeting you.”
Every hair on my body lifts to attention when André snakes his arm around my waist and tugs me neatly to his hip. “We’re finally getting a honeymoon, Wifey. And you know what that means?” He dips into the side of my face, his warm lips skimming the shell of my ear, his sharp teeth grazing my earlobe. “I’m going to tie you up with knots so you fully understand rule number one.”
36
SINÉAD
Our entourage of black Range Rover Sentinels slow for entry to the marina.
André sits quietly beside me, his gaze focused outside of the vehicle. He’s deep in thought, lost in the zillions of scintillating lights covering his city beyond the bulletproof exterior that’s transporting us. After he’d sent a flurry of text messages and spoke in Spanish on the phone with his eldest brother Tomás, he ended the call, glanced at me, and then sat back without saying a word.
Tonight, he appears restless and edgy. He’s cracked his knuckles a few times and now he’s rotating his family ring as his right knee repeatedly bounces.
“Are Reno and Letterman coming with us?” I ask when we’re cleared by the marina’s security.
Our gazes meet, then his eyes drop to my wedding finger, where they blaze hot with possession.
“No, they’re staying on dry land,” he finally answers. “It will be you, me, and the ship’s crew. Unfortunately, it takes a whole team to run a yacht of this size. Don’t worry, they’ll stay out of our way. They won’t hear your secret.”
In this moment, his somber mood is difficult to read, and his comment is cryptic.
“Secret?” I say softly.
“Yeah…” He looks right at me. “How you’re secretly happy to be married to a man like me.”
“Not a manlikeyou. Butyou—all of André Souza.”
The whites of his eyes sparkle in the shadows of our moving vehicle. “In my opinion, you’re the only woman who can handle all of me. We’ll see if you agree with that belief after tonight.”
A shiver teases my scalp and I swallow hard. Perhaps I’ve only scratched the surface and haven’t truly seen what lies beneath the flesh of this handsome devil.
“Have you figured out who chased me on the Streetfighter?” I quickly change the subject.
His lips press into a firm line. “It could have been the same crowd who gunned down my father. While Tommy was off-grid, they probably planned a hit on the next Souza.” He turns his gaze back to the tinted window. “Or I’ve made a few more enemies of my own.”
“Your father died recently, didn’t he? And hitmen are targeting you. That can’t be easy.”
“Easy…” He pins me with an odd expression and falls silent for a moment. “I’d thought about killing the fucker myself—too many times to count. Disappointment is all I ever felt from Papá. When Tommy broke the news of his murder, that swell of disappointment hit me like a gunshot. I was pissed at myself, because I could never pull the trigger… Someone else beat me to it.”
My left shoulder lifts to my ear. “Then maybe the person who killed him did you all a favor.”
He shakes his head slowly as if my words were thick fog. “Whoever they are, they put you in danger. For that reason alone, I won’t hesitate to pull the pin on a grenade or my trigger. I’ll finish any fucker who hurts you, Sin. No matter who they are. No matter the consequences.”
My stomach turns queasy, knowing he’d struggle to kill the asshole who had tortured me with his fists when I was younger.
Eventually coming to a stop, the door opens and the cool sea air rushes in. André steps out first and then pivots, holding his ringed fingers out for me to latch onto. The instant our skin unites, shock waves rocket up my arm and his grip on me tightens.
Skyscrapers dominate the majestic backdrop and a navy-blue sea shimmers with splashes of bold light, spreading out from a row of massive yachts. Each one looks unbelievable, like something from a James Bond movie.
However, when he guides me along a decked boardwalk and stops at the gangway of a sleek charcoal yacht three times the size of the others, I nearly choke on my saliva.
“This is my new yacht,” he announces. “I haven’t ventured out in her yet. This will be her maiden voyage.”
I blink in the sheer size, unable to compute the cost of such an elegant sea vessel. It epitomizes my husband with its commanding presence. Larger than life.
