Page 5 of Ruthless Vow

But he was also a good man, a good father, a loving husband. He donated massive sums to charity, both his money and his time. He was a great boss. A man who treated me like a person, who truly cared about me. I know he did. And I cared about him. I hate that Salvatore Russo is dead.

And that truth leaves me so messed up.

My chin kicks up a notch.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I knew nothing about the hit on him until I heard about it with everyone else after he was dead. Saw it on the news.” I force my tone to remain casual, uncaring. I don’t reveal by word or action that I mourn Salvatore, that I miss him. He was one of the few people in this world who was ever kind to me. “Too bad, really. It would have been an eye for an eye.”

Leo stares at me for a long moment. Too long. He wears a calculating expression, like he’s sizing me up, measuring me, seeing something more than the woman I appear to be.

Seeingme, the me who lives inside my skin, not the me everyone else sees. Just like he did when I stumbled on him in his office, getting sucked off by that woman on the desk.

I drag in a breath, trying to clear my mind. I don’t want to remember how that made me feel.

“What the fuck are you talking about, an eye for an eye?” Leo asks.

“This is all because of what you did to my father. Killing yours would have been sweet justice. Instead, it seems I’ll have to settle for killing you,” I say.

“I’ve killed a lot of people,” Leo says, sounding bored. “You’ll have to remind me who your father was.”

I want to tell him who he was, how he had plans to grasp hold of our family’s legacy once again by taking down the Russos. My father said it was the rise of the Morettis once again, beginning with vengeance for the deaths of past generations of my family five decades ago. But if I admit that, then those I leave alive—Damian and Sabina—will know, too, and they’ll have information they could use to hunt me down. I’m smart enough not to hand them my head on a platter.

The blond holding Sabina presses his fingers to his ear, listening. I turn toward him.

“Our lookout says that Russo’s men have been alerted,” he says. “Some sort of silent alarm. They are on their way. We need to go.”

Shit. Time is up.

Leo Russo is about to die. I’m about to shoot him.

“Nicole—” Leo says.

“Shut up!” I spin back to face him. “This is your fucking fault. Own it. You’re responsible for the bomb that set all of this into motion.” The bomb that blew my father, Bruno Moretti to pieces.

Leo shrugs, unconcerned, as if he isn’t the one who has several weapons aimed at him. “Probably wasn’t me,” he says. “I’m not really an explosives type of guy. I prefer things up close and personal.”

The way he says that makes a chill crawl along my spine.

He’ll kill me if he gets the chance. He’ll make it slow. He’ll make it hurt. He’ll make it personal.

“I’ll give you up close and personal,” I snarl, forcing hate and rage into my words, because the alternative is to let him see that my hands are shaking. “On your knees. Now.”

Leo just stares at me, unmoving.

One of my aunt’s men moves forward and kicks Leo’s legs out from under him while another forces him to his knees.

He holds my gaze with those black-ice eyes, his beautiful, perfect features completely expressionless.

“Today, you pay the price for what you did,” I say.

And what price willIpay? I’m a disposable piece in my aunt’s game. I know that. So why am I letting her move me around the board?

Because she has Sofia. And I know she will not hesitate to hurt her, even kill her in retaliation if I fail.

“I didn’t kill your father,” Leo says. He doesn’t plead or beg. He says the words not as if he is desperate to save his own life, but rather as if he is just stating a fact like ‘the sky is blue’ or ‘grass is green.’

My heart is a wild bird slamming against my ribs. I feel sick. Dizzy.

“Stop! No, don’t do this! Please!” Sabina yells, struggling against her captor, trying to get to her brother.

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