Page 53 of Temporary Vows

“Okay, let’s go.”

I glance back at Elodie. Just for a moment.

Rage reignites, and my hands itch for violence.

When I turn and walk away, my control slips and I’m not thinking about right and wrong anymore.

All I want is blood.

* * *

Knox and I pull up at Bellview Offices twenty minutes later. I drove like a maniac despite the traffic.

All I could see was Elodie in my office. Her split lip, swollen eye, and that faint boot print on her top.

I park right there on the sidewalk, and we get out. Two guys in black suits flank the glass door to the building.

They straighten when they see us.

“Building’s closed,” one of them says. “Come back during?—”

His voice cuts off when he looks behind me, eyes wide with terror. I know exactly what he sees.

I turn, meeting Salvatore Giordano as he falls in step with Knox and me, accompanied by three of his toughest men.

Knox casts me a glance. Like the guards, he’s fully aware of who Salvatore is.

He’s always warned me to be careful of the friends I keep, but he’s not saying anything now. In fact, he looks pleased.

I messaged Salvatore on my way over. I asked for backup. I didn’t expect him to come himself, but I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve been there for him in the past, too. This is what you call gratitude.

“Gentlemen.” Salvatore acknowledges each of us with a quick nod.

“Thanks for coming,” I say.

“Of course.”

He switches his gaze from me and smiles wider at the guards at the door, who look like they’re about to shit themselves. No one wants trouble with the Italian mafia.

“Marcus Reiner?” I demand.

“Upstairs. Third floor,” the first guard answers, pointing inside.

“Good.” I smile without humor.

The two part for us to enter, and we head upstairs.

We reach the third floor and spot the door at the end of the hallway with Marcus’ name on it.

I don’t bother knocking. I just open the door and walk in.

A man with a scar on the side of his face stands by the wall. A burly man sits behind the large desk, counting cash. I take him to be Marcus. He looks like he’s in charge.

The two glare at us as if we have a death wish. Until they see Salvatore. Then their expressions morph into fear.

He recovers fast, pasting on a customer-service smile. “Salvatore Giordano. I didn’t realize we had any business.”

“We do now, Marcus Reiner,” he replies.