Page 25 of Broken Vows (Empire City Syndicate #2)

Melinda

I move to Vincent's study and open my laptop, accessing the medical databases I still have clearance for.

It takes twenty minutes to compile a list of pharmaceuticals that would cause cardiac arrest in the right combination—drugs that occur naturally in the body that would be virtually undetectable in a standard autopsy.

As I scroll through dosage calculations, my laptop chimes with an encrypted message.

Maya, sending me something through the secure channel we established years ago.

The message is brief: "Found something you need to see. Check the attached surveillance footage. That face look familiar?"

I download the file, my heart racing like crazy. The timestamp shows last week—security cameras from the hospital parking garage. I watch myself walking to my car after a double shift, exhaustion weighing down my shoulders. Then a figure emerges from behind a concrete pillar.

Standing in the shadows, directing him with hand signals, is another figure. When he steps into the light, my laptop nearly slips from my hands.

Marco Russo.

Vincent's own brother, orchestrating an attempt on my life in the hospital parking garage where I save people every day. Where I've been trying to build something clean.

I rewind the footage, watching Marco's lips move as he gives instructions.

The timestamp shows this was taken three days before Vincent and I met for lunch. Three days before Marco pretended to be surprised by our relationship.

He's been hunting me for months.

My hands shake as I access Vincent's intelligence files, using the passwords I memorized from watching him work.

The digital trail unfolds like a roadmap to hell: wire transfers from Marco's personal accounts to mercenaries in Rome.

Airline records showing his men arriving in Italy forty-eight hours before the first attempt on my life.

Purchase orders for untraceable weapons.

Communications with Perezzi family soldiers about "eliminating obstacles to traditional family structure. "

But it's the final document that makes my vision go white around the edges.

A detailed dossier on me—my medical school schedule, my rotation times, my apartment building's security protocols, even my fucking coffee shop preferences. Someone had been watching me for years, documenting my life like I was prey to be hunted.

At the bottom of the file, a handwritten note in Marco's jagged script: "Mastroni bitch needs to disappear before she compromises family interests. Pregnancy would complicate things—handle before that becomes an issue."

Marco hasn't just been planning to betray Vincent—he's been actively hunting me for months.

I screenshot everything, encrypt the files, and send them to Maya with a simple message: "Insurance policy. In case something happens to me."

Then I close the laptop and return to the bedroom where Vincent sleeps with one hand still reaching toward my side of the bed. In the soft light from the city, he looks younger, the harsh lines around his eyes smoothed by unconsciousness.

This is the man who chose me over family loyalty. The father of my child. The only person standing between Marco's ambition and our destruction.

I slip back under the covers, pressing myself against his warm skin. He stirs, pulling me closer without fully waking.

"Everything okay?" he murmurs against my hair.

"Fine," I whisper, trailing my fingers down his chest. "Just couldn't sleep."

"Mmm." His hand spans my lower back, thumb tracing circles on my skin. "The baby keeping you up?"

"Something like that." I kiss his collarbone, tasting salt and the faint scent of his cologne. My hand drifts lower, tracing the hard lines of his abdomen. "Vincent?"

"Yeah?" His voice catches as my fingers brush the waistband of his boxers.

"I need you," I whisper, my mouth moving to his throat. "I need to feel you, taste you."

He goes rigid beneath me, breath hitching. "Melinda?—"

"Shh." I silence him with my lips, kissing him deep and slow as my hand slips beneath the fabric. He's already hard, responding to my touch with a groan that vibrates against my mouth. "Let me take care of you."

I kiss my way down his body, pausing to bite gently at his collarbone, to trace the scar on his shoulder with my tongue. His hands tangle in my hair as I move lower, my mouth following the path my fingers traced moments before.

"You don't have to—" he starts, but the words die when I hook my fingers in his boxers and pull them down.

"I want to," I breathe, settling between his thighs. "I want to taste every inch of you."

His cock is thick and hard, already leaking at the tip. I wrap my hand around the base, stroking slowly as I lean down to lick a stripe from root to head.

"Fuck," he hisses, hips jerking involuntarily. "Melinda?—"

I smile against his skin before taking just the head into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the sensitive tip. The taste of him is intoxicating—salt and musk and something uniquely Vincent. I hollow my cheeks, sucking gently as I work more of him into my mouth.

"That's it, sweetheart," he groans, one hand gripping the sheets, the other guiding my head. "Just like that. Fuck, your mouth feels incredible."

I take him deeper, relaxing my throat, letting him slide further until I'm taking as much as I can. His breathing becomes ragged, muscles tensing beneath my free hand as I establish a rhythm—long, slow pulls followed by quick flicks of my tongue over the most sensitive spots.

"God, you're perfect," he pants, watching me through half-lidded eyes. "So fucking perfect. The way you look with your lips wrapped around my cock?—"

His words send heat straight to my core. I moan around him, the vibration making him curse and buck his hips. I pull back enough to speak, my voice husky.

"Tell me how it feels," I demand, stroking him with my hand while my mouth works the head. "Tell me what you want."

"Feels like heaven," he gasps. "Like I could die happy right now. Want you to take me deep again, want to feel your throat?—"

I comply immediately, taking him as deep as I can, working him with lips and tongue and the gentle pressure of my throat. His control starts to fracture, hips moving in short, desperate thrusts.

"I'm close," he warns, voice strained. "Melinda, I'm going to?—"

I don't pull away. Instead, I look up at him, meeting his eyes as I take him even deeper. The sight breaks his control completely. He comes with a broken groan of my name, his release filling my mouth as I swallow everything he gives me.

When he's spent, I place soft kisses along his softening length before crawling back up his body. His eyes are glazed, chest heaving as he pulls me into his arms.

"That was—" he starts, voice rough.

"Just the beginning," I whisper against his lips, feeling him already starting to respond again as I press my naked body against his. "I want all of you tonight, Vincent. Every piece."

His hands roam my body, relearning every curve as his mouth claims mine in a kiss that tastes like promises and forever.

As Vincent's hands explore my body, I can't help but grind against him, feeling his growing hardness against my thigh.

His mouth trails hot, wet kisses down my neck, pausing to nip at my pulse point.

"You want more?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

"You want me to fuck you with my mouth, Melinda? Is that what you need?"

I gasp as his crude words send a jolt of lust straight to my core. "Yes," I manage to breathe out, my nails digging into his shoulders. "I want you to taste me, Vincent. I want you to make me come on your tongue."

He flashes a wicked grin, his eyes dark with desire. "My dirty girl," he murmurs, trailing his fingers down my stomach, circling my navel before moving lower. "You want me to lick your pussy, don't you? You want me to suck on your clit until you're screaming my name."

His words are as much a turn-on as his touch.

I arch my hips, urging his hand lower. He takes his time, teasing me, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of my panties.

"Is this what you want, baby?" he asks, his voice a low rumble.

"You want me to strip you bare and fuck you with my mouth until you can't take anymore? "

"Yes," I hiss, bucking my hips as he finally slips his hand beneath the fabric, his fingers finding my wet heat.

"Fuck, you're so wet," he groans, his finger circling my clit before sliding inside me. "So ready for me."

I ride his hand, my breath coming in short gasps as he adds a second finger, stretching me, preparing me. His thumb finds my clit, rubbing gentle circles that send electric shocks through my body.

"Vincent," I moan, my head thrashing on the pillow. "Please, I need your mouth."

He grins, slowly withdrawing his fingers, making me whimper at the sudden emptiness. He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean, his eyes locked on mine. "You taste like heaven, Melinda," he growls, before finally moving down my body.

He hooks his fingers in my panties, pulling them down my legs in a swift motion. I spread my thighs for him, baring myself completely. He settles between my legs, his broad shoulders pushing my thighs even wider.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he murmurs, his breath hot on my sensitive flesh. His fingers spread me open, and he leans in, his tongue tracing a slow, deliberate path from my entrance to my clit.

I cry out, my hips jerking at the sudden sensation. He does it again, his tongue dipping inside me briefly before moving back to my clit, circling it, sucking it gently between his lips.

"Vincent!" I cry out, my hands fisting in his hair as he sets a relentless pace, his tongue and lips working me into a frenzy. He slips two fingers inside me, curling them to hit that sweet spot deep within, his mouth never leaving my clit.

"You taste so fucking good," he growls against me, the vibration sending me even higher. "I could eat you all day, Melinda. I could live between your thighs."

His words, combined with his mouth and his fingers, send me careening over the edge. I come hard, screaming his name, my body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me.

Vincent rides out my orgasm, his fingers and mouth drawing out every last pulse of pleasure. When I finally collapse back onto the bed, he grins up at me, his face glistening with my arousal.

"That was just the appetizer," he growls, crawling up my body. His cock, hard and ready, nudges at my entrance. "Now I'm going to fuck you hard. I'm going to fuck you until you can't remember your own name."

I wrap my legs around him, pulling him closer, urging him inside. "Yes," I whisper, my voice hoarse from my cries of pleasure. "Fuck me, Vincent. Make me yours."

With one swift thrust, he buries himself deep inside me, filling me completely. I cry out, my nails digging into his back as he starts to move, his hips setting a punishing pace. His mouth finds mine, his tongue fucking my mouth in time with his cock.

"You're mine, Melinda," he growls against my lips. "Every fucking inch of you. Mine."

I can only nod, my body on fire as he claims me completely.