Page 81 of Devil’s Promise

Her fingers slide down the buttons of my tuxedo shirt. “I’ve no doubt.”

“Axel already found out that Don likes to party in Vincent Morelli’s club. As soon as we’re on the ground, I’ll text him and see what he knows.”

“My father’s future lieutenant governor frequents a whorehouse in Harlem. Hookers and blow are his passions of choice,” Promise adds. Then she looks at me. “And as soon as I start speaking publicly, everyone who dished in front of me is going to get cagey. I’m in danger either way.”

Fuck. She’s right.

“We might as well use the information to position you in a place of power for everyone’s protection.”

Knox gives a soft snort and then he eyes me with one eyebrow up. I know that he’s beginning to understand Promise’s value. And the danger too…

I pull my woman close, whispering in her ear. “Keep the rest of your secrets for now, love.”

She nods into my shoulder before she returns to the women.

The rest of the flight is much more cordial as we discuss the development of the waterfront and the adjacent parcel they are going to allow me to develop exclusively.

It’s a much better deal than Don ever offered me, and I feel the rightness of this path. I’m going to make millions, perhaps even more, and I’m going to give Promise the kind of life she deserves.

And my brothers. They will be able to live life however they choose.

Knox leans over to me. “I’m sorry I doubted you.”

But I shake my head. “You were right to doubt. But I’m on the right path now. And soon we’ll be on the other side of all of this.” Which is mostly true.

I just need to move Donald Winthrop out of my fucking way.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Promise

Candy helps me refresh my hair before the plane lands and then we’re swept off to a little chapel.

I have been to Vegas more than once for various events my father has attended, but today, being in Vegas feels like…freedom.

I’m a country away from my father, in the company of men who look at me like I matter.

We arrive at the small chapel, located just off the strip. Angel helps me out of the limousine and I pause for a moment, drawing in a deep breath of Vegas heat as I look out over the desert vistas.

In the distance, hills ring the city, their red clay stunning in the late afternoon light.

Angel stops too, his gaze following mine. “Vegas is something.”

I slide my hand into his. “I like this much better than the country club.”

He chuckles. “There is nothing special about the chapel we’re about to enter.”

“This wedding is ours,” I say simply. “Not like the one at the country club.”

He leans down and kisses me. The brush of his lips is so tender, so gentle, that it steals my breath.

And then he pulls me toward the doors.

It’s not traditional. No father of the bride giving his daughter away. There are no flowers, no programs. Only one of Angel’s brothers is here.

But for me, this is better than I ever dreamed. I’ve got Candy and Aunt Patti here. I’ve got a man who is actually taking care of me.

I don’t know how I begin to tell Angel that this wedding, with a handful guests, at a small touristy chapel is absolutely perfect.