Page 33 of Vow

Her whole life was one giant mess after another, and nothing seemed to be changing about that any time soon. It all stemmed right back to Andino, too. She should just tell him to fuck on off to wherever the hell he came from, but a part of her didn’t want to. Haven wasn’t the type of woman to let a man play games with her head and heart, but here she was.

If only …

If only she could sell the club, and her house, then she would be free and clear to do whatever in the hell she wanted to do. Free to get far away from New York, and whatever strange hold Andino had on her. She couldn’t think clearly when he was around, and she just needed … to get back to what made her, her.

Go back to the things that made her happy.

She’d hoped he could be the thing that made her happy, but Andino seemed to make a challenge out of proving Haven wrong every single chance he could. She had to start putting herself first—that much was clear—and stop allowing him to hurt her.

Simple as that.

Dale took a barstool next to Haven’s, and threw the manilla folder to the bartop. He gestured at it with one finger, and a proud smile. “There’s your good news right there. Take a look. Go on, and tell me what you think.”

Haven quirked a brow, and reached for the file. Dragging it in front of her, she flipped it open, and did a quick scan of the paper on the first page. It was nothing more than a very large number scribbled on a white piece of paper.

Mind you, the number made Haven’s eyes widen.

“Is this …”

“An offer for the club,” Dale replied, his smile growing wider.

Oh, wow.

Haven blinked as she took in the number a second time. “That’s a hell of a lot more than what I asked for.”

Dale nodded. “I actually had two other offers come in the same day. One for a few thousand less than your asking price, and another for exactly the asking price. When I happened to mention that to the middleman for this offer, he was quick to say that he figured his offer would be the one you would be more interested in taking.”

Haven cleared her throat; overwhelmed didn’t begin to adequately describe what was running through her mind. “I can see why he thought that, yeah.”

That extra money would do wonders for her mother’s medical bills. Sure, her parents had insurance that covered a lot, but it only went so far. Haven had a savings that she didn’t mind depleting for her parents—even if they argued or told her no—but having a bit of a safety net was always comforting.

Haven flipped through the papers in the folder, checking out the other details. It seemed the buyer didn’t have an issue with the terms Haven put on the sale of the club like the name remaining the same, and the employees staying on as long as they were willing, and followed the rules as they always had.

“Who is the buyer?” she asked.

Dale reached over, and flipped back to a page Haven had quickly overlooked as it just had a business name, and details. Nothing that she found particularly useful.

“An investor wants to buy it, actually,” Dale said, “and the offer came in from that investor’s lawyer under their company. It’s not uncommon for buyers to use their businesses as a shield when purchasing properties, or whatever else. It adds to their portfolio, and also gives them a bit of protection. They can write it all off as a loss for their business should the need arise.”

“Like a shell company?”

Dale shrugged. “You could consider it that, yeah.”

Huh.

“And this company—”

“Has quite a portfolio of businesses spread across the state, and elsewhere,” he said.

Well, then …

Haven had said she wanted good news, and this certainly fit the bill. She did another quick scan of the contents inside the folder, taking her time to look over each paper, and memorize the details.

Part of her thought, do you really want to do this?

Do you really want to get rid of this place?

A louder part screamed, one step closer to getting out of this city.