Chapter 4
I couldn’t move, my body frozen as Marco’s hand pressed gently on my shoulder, guiding me back into my seat.
Vincent’s smile stretched across his face, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“You’ll have to excuse the mess.” He dabbed his mouth with a napkin, as casual as if we’d witnessed nothing more than a spilled drink. “I don’t tolerate disrespect.”
My throat closed up. I forced my eyes away from the blood still seeping into the grout between marble tiles.
Would I be next? The thought hammered in my skull. One wrong word…
“Your face is white as snow.” Vincent’s voice cut through my spiral of panic. “You think I’d hurt you?”
I couldn’t answer. Couldn’t force words past the knot in my throat.
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Marco’s presence at my side was solid,
steady. “Boss wouldn’t harm a hair on your
head.”
Vincent leaned forward, those predator eyes fixed on me. “You’re safe here, Cheryl. Safer than you’ve ever been with the
Rivers.”
The way he said their name made me
flinch.
I watched Vincent rise from his chair. My heart still hammered against my ribs, but
the initial terror had faded to a dull throb
of anxiety.
“Marco.” Vincent’s voice carried authority without raising above a conversational tone. “Make sure everything’s taken care of downstairs.”
Marco nodded, his solid presence leaving my side. The loss of his steadying energy made me grip my glass tighter.
Vincent paused at the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the frame. “Get her settled
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Chapter 41
in the luxury suite. Whatever she needs.” He didn’t look back as he issued the
command, but several maids materialized as if conjured by his words.
A gentle hand touched my arm. I looked up to find a woman with kind eyes and graying temples. “Miss, if you’ll follow me?”
I rose on shaky legs. Two other maids fell in step behind us as we left the dining room, their footsteps whisper–quiet on the polished floors.
The halls stretched endlessly, each turn. revealing more opulent décor. We climbed a curved staircase, the bannister cool beneath my palm.
“Here we are.” The older maid opened double doors into a suite that stole my breath. Floor–to–ceiling windows.
overlooked the city lights, while a massive four–poster bed dominated one wall. “The bathroom’s through there. We’ll draw you a bath if you’d like?”
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I nodded, not trusting my voice. The younger maids disappeared into the bathroom, and soon the sound of running water filled the space.
“Fresh clothes in the closet.” She gestured. to a walk–in larger than my old bedroom. “Anything else you need, just press this button.” She indicated a discrete panel by
the bed.
The maids moved around me with practiced efficiency, turning down covers, adjusting temperature controls, laying out soft towels and robes.
I got in the shower and let the scalding water wash over me, as if it could cleanse the memory of blood and death from my mind. My skin turned pink, but I stayed under the spray until the water ran cold.
The bed swallowed me in softness. Sleep came faster than I expected, my exhausted body giving in to darkness.
Light filtering through gauzy curtains woke
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- me. For a moment, I forgot where I was until my eyes landed on Vincent. He lounged in the same chair from earlier, smoke curling from the cigar between his fingers. The ember glowed in the dim
room.
My heart leaped into my throat. I shot up, clutching the silk sheets to my chest. The movement made my head spin.
Vincent crushed out his cigar in a crystal ashtray. “Sleep well?” His voice carried that same casual tone from dinner, as if watching women sleep was perfectly normal.
I pressed myself against the headboard, trying to put distance between us. My mouth went dry.
“Don’t be scared.” He stayed in his chair, hands visible on the armrests. “I won’t hurt you.”
The words should have been comforting, but coming from a man I’d watched killing
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someone hours ago, they felt hollow. I couldn’t stop staring at those hands- relaxed, but I remembered how they’d looked gripping that gun.
“You’re safe here,” he continued, those ice- blue eyes fixed on me. “No one will touch
you.”
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