Page 31 of Vow to Claim You

“Tell me, Ayanna,” he asks. “Did I shoot him?”

“You did not.”

His head whips toward me. In the same instant, fear flashes across Ayanna’s face—and something in my chest pulls tight. It’s irritating and unwelcome, but I shove it down.

Luca closes his eyes for a moment as though reciting his last prayer before the executioner swings. When he opens them, his gaze locks onto mine. Defiant and still delusional.

I step closer, my steps slow and controlled as always. “The incident at the wedding…” My voice is low. Even. Almost bored. “I chose to overlook.”

Luca visibly stiffens.

“But now you come to my territory.” I cock my head slightly. “Into my home.” His throat bobs. “Trying to steal what’s mine.”

The bastard’s jaw tightens, but the fear beneath his composure betrays him.

“I show mercy once,” I say. “And you drained it dry.”

I don’t raise my hand. I don’t even look away from him.

“Bring him.”

In seconds, Luca is seized, his wrists pinned, his breath knocked out of him as my men force him to his knees. His eyes flick upward, searching for escape. For help. Maybe even for Ayanna.

He finds none.

Only me.

Ayanna moves before anyone can stop her—but the surprising part? Not toward Luca.

Toward me.

She nearly collides with my chest, her hands hovering as if she wants to touch but doesn’t know where. Doesn’t know if she’s allowed. Her eyes sweep over me, wide and frantic, searching for blood.

For a second—one goddamn second—something inside me twists. The kind of twist I’ve only known at gunpoint.

She isn’t begging for his life.

She’s checking if I’m still breathing.

“How’s your wound?” she asks, breathless, her voice trembling like the possibility of losing me carved a crack straight through her.

“It’s nothing.” The stitched skin throbs under my shirt. “I’ve had worse.”

But she doesn’t believe me. I can see it. Her eyes cut right through the armor I spent my whole life welding shut.

For a heartbeat, I hate that look. I hate it for making me feel…something.

“We’ll talk later.” My tone is colder than it should be. I can hear it. I can’t stop it. Burying whatever the hell that moment was. “I have to deal with our guest.”

Ayanna swallows, lifting her chin as if that alone can steady her, but it doesn’t. She’s shaking, trying to hide it and failing.

“What…” She hesitates. “What will you do to Luca?”

There it is.

Fear. For this bastard who put her in danger. She’s trying to bury it. Trying not to show me she’s terrified I’m about to kill the boy who stole her heart first.

“He put you in the crosshairs.” My fists clench, and my chest caves at the thought that I nearly lost her tonight.