Page 17 of Broken Vows

"Mel—"

"I said no." I turn to face them both, letting them see every ounce of fury burning in my chest. "I didn't come back to be your breeding mare or your fucking spy. I came back because someone's trying to hurt me, and I need protection until we figure out who."

Maya's eyes narrow. "You think you have a choice here?"

I step closer to her, close enough that she can see the years of medical training in my steady hands, the knowledge of exactly where to cut to cause maximum damage without killing. "I know where every major artery runs through your body, Maya. I know which organs you can live without and which you can't. I've saved more lives than you've taken, but don't mistake my profession for weakness in this evil game out family plays."

Briefly, even Maya goes still. Max clears his throat. "Enough." He looks between us, then settles on me. "Maya's right about one thing. This baby changes everything. Every family in New York will want a piece of this."

"I know."

"Do we tell Dad?"

Our father, currently in Boston expanding operations, has a talent for turning personal situations into businessopportunities. If he knew about the baby, he'd see dollar signs and territory maps, not his daughter's safety.

"Not yet," I say. "Let me figure out what Vincent wants first."

Maya jumps off the desk. "What he wants? He wants to own you, Mel. That's what men like him do."

"And what do men like Max do?" I shoot back. "Ask Cara how that kidnapping worked out."

Max's face goes dark. "That was different."

"Was it? Or do all of you just take what you want and call it protection?"

The room falls silent except for the ticking of the antique clock on the mantle.

We’re just staring at each other, like one wrong move could blow the whole damn thing up.

A text arrives from an unknown number, but I recognize the tone immediately.

Tomorrow, 2 PM. Marcello’s. Come alone. - V

I show them the message. Maya immediately shakes her head.

"It's a trap."

"Maybe. Or maybe he wants the same thing I do—to figure out how to survive this."

Max studies the phone screen. "If you go, you don't go alone. I'll have men positioned?—"

"No." I pocket the phone. "Visible security will only escalate things. But I'll have my own backup."

Maya laughs bitterly. "What backup? Your stethoscope?"

I don't answer. Let her underestimate me. It's safer that way.

"I want a full perimeter around that restaurant," Max says, moving to the window that overlooks the estate's gardens. "Unmarked cars, rotating shifts. If Vincent even breathes wrong?—"

"He won't hurt me." The words slip out before I can stop them.

Maya's eyebrows shoot up. "Oh, this is rich. You're actually defending him?"

"I'm being realistic. Vincent Russo doesn't need to lure me to a public restaurant to destroy me. If he wanted me dead, I'd already be in the East River."

Max turns back to us, his expression calculating. "Then what does he want?"

"The same thing any man wants when he finds out he's going to be a father," I say. "Answers. Control. Some kind of plan that doesn't end with both families at war."