Page 23 of Mafia King’s Dangerous Vow

It doesn’t come.

“We’ll set up a workspace for you here,” he says instead. “Someone can bring your equipment from your office. This is only temporary.”

“I’m in this situation because of you.”

The words come out sharper than I intended.

He sets his coffee down. A man who wants both hands free when he says something he means.

“No,” he says evenly. “You’re in this situation because your father used you as collateral. I’m trying to keep it from getting worse.”

He’s right and we both know it.

“I need to go to work,” I insist.

“No.”

I stare at him. “You could at least pretend to think about it.”

“I did think about it.”

“And?”

“The answer’s still no.”

I almost laugh. “You said I wasn’t a prisoner.”

“You aren’t.”

“It feels academic.”

He doesn’t soften the answer. “You’ll have security. Transportation. Site coverage. Client screening. But until I know where the threat lines are, you don’t move alone.”

“And the armed babysitters?”

“Protection.”

“I didn’t ask for protection.”

“No,” he says calmly. “But you still need it.”

“I have meetings this morning,” he continues. “Mikhail will come by.”

I stare at him. “Why does that sound threatening when you say it?”

“Because you’ve met Mikhail.”

The laugh slips out before I can turn it into a glare. The corner of his mouth moves, but he has the sense not to smile fully. Then he checks his watch and reaches for his jacket.

“We’ll talk tonight.”

Not a suggestion. A decision.

Then he’s gone, leaving me with cold coffee and the deeply unsettling realization that my husband might become a far bigger problem than my father anticipated.

Because cruel men are predictable.

Careful men get under your skin before you realize you should’ve run.