Page 23 of Outcast’s Vow

Third: continue my studies.

Everything I have worked for is at stake. Years of my efforts trying to extract my life from the influence of my father might have been for nothing if I don’t correctly navigate my new husband and his clear disdain for my sorry ass. I’ve got to set the terms of this relationship. I’ve got to remain firm. Unyielding. I’ve gotta make sure the man truly understands who he’s dealing with.

That he understands I am not a pushover. That I’m not just any dutiful Castaways wife. That I’m not just my father’s daughter.

That I’m not a gleaming prize to be won in a tropical rainforest.

That I’m Sylvie. Just Sylvie. And Baptiste Tremblay will have to learn to live with it, or I will break him before he breaks me.

I push myself off the couch and stand tall in the middle of my apartment. I lift my chin and reset.

No, I can’t afford to feel sorry for myself.

Stay strong, Sylvie.

I head to the mirror on the wall. I take one long look at my reflection. At this woman whose hair is disheveled and her makeup smudged.

“This is not me.”

I pry the mirror off the wall and set it face down on the floor. It’s the first thing to go.

I told him on the plane – and I make the promise to myself now – that I will fight to keep us equals in this marriage.

But first, I need to pack up my old life.

And then I will face him.

10

BAPTISTE

My motorcycle roars like a lion as I barrel toward the skyscraper in downtown Manhattan, going a hell of a lot faster than the speed limit, and not giving a damn. I pull to an abrupt stop outside the doors of the building, park my beast, and step into the lobby of the grand tower. This skyscraper houses one company only, and I’m here to meet the founder and CEO.

I cross the black marble lobby with long strides, unzipping my leather motorcycle jacket to reveal the sharp suit underneath.

“Baptiste Tremblay,” I say to the receptionist. “Here to see Elwood Levine.”

The woman behind the desk glances up at me, then at the screen in front of her, and then back at me. Her eye contact is impeccable.

“He’s expecting you, Mr. Tremblay. Please use Mr. Levine’s personal elevator.”

“Thank you.”

Her eyes don’t leave mine as she presses a button underneath her desk to swing open the security gate, biting her lip as she takes me in. I don’t need to read minds to practically hear what she wants with me.

But I’m not here for her.

I’m here for someone a lot more dangerous.

* * *

I step into the private elevator and ride to the very top.

Elwood Levine is quick to exert his influence and power the moment you step into his personal office space. The man is an international shipping tycoon, and his office is demonstrative of the fact that his company makes billions a year. The lines in here are crisp, everything clean and minimalist.

This is as much theater as it is high-level business.

His secretary is waiting for me at the elevator doors with a fake smile and an even faker voice.