Page 34 of Ruthless Vow

For a second, I feel a horrible pang of loss. Salvatore is dead and I miss him. Worse, I have betrayed his memory. He trusted me not only with his secrets, but with other people’s secrets. And I told my aunt some of those secrets. I gave her people access to Leo’s yacht, to his family. They could have all been killed.

But if I didn’t give her the information, she threatened to kill Sofia.

I never thought I had a choice.

But there’s always a choice, isn’t there? Why didn’t I tell Salvatore about my father, about my aunt, about Sofia? Why didn’t I ask for his help?

Because I am Bruno Moretti’s daughter, raised to be a pawn, raised to obey orders, raised to know I am not worthy of anything other than being a disposable piece on my father’s gameboard. Now, my aunt’s gameboard.

What would happen if I tell Leo everything, if I ask for his help?

Sure. I’ll just waltz up to him and spill my guts. I’m sure he’d be thrilled to help me after I, you know, almost got him killed. Maybe we can bond over coffee and revenge.

I bend my knees and hug them, sitting in silence as Luca studies the contents of the folder for a few more minutes.

Finally, he says, “I’m deleting this.”

“That’s probably for the best,” I agree.

“Do you have backups?”

I shake my head.

“Why the fuck should I believe you?” he growls.

You shouldn’t.

“Because my track record screams ‘trustworthy,’ doesn’t it?” I say. When he glares at me, I sigh. “I have no interest in taking you down, Luca. Especially not over something like this.”

He looks at me skeptically, but there’s no ice there anymore. A strange vulnerability has entered his gaze.

He drags the file to the trash, then empties the trash.

“That’s not enough,” I say. “Someone with skills could still recover that info. You need to use the file shredder software, too.” I walk him through it and make sure he wipes the free space, as well.

He gathers the laptop and leaves the room again. He’s gone for so long I figure that he’s not coming back, but then the door opens. He’s carrying a plastic container with a gray bottom and a white top, with small slits along both sides. The front is a mesh door.

I hold my breath as he places the pet carrier down on the ground and opens up the door. A kernel of hope unfurls. I try to keep it in check because me and hope are not exactly besties.

A pair of green eyes gleam in the shadowed interior and my hope grows. A pink nose appears at the edge of the carrier, twitching. Then a white paw emerges, tentative, barely brushing the floor before retreating.

My hands fly instinctively to my lips, my heart hammering in my chest.

The paw re-emerges. A second white paw joins the first, the movement slow, deliberate. Finally a sleek body appears, the handsome tabby offering a single flick of his tail as he clears the carrier. He pauses, stretches, then looks around the room, meows softly and trots over to me.

Tears roll down my cheeks.

“Charlie. My baby,” I coo as I gather him into my arms. His purrs are so loud that I can both feel them and hear them. “I missed you, honey. Are you okay?”

“Does he usually talk back?” Luca asks.

“Not verbally,” I say. I wipe my face and look up at him. “You picked up my cat.”

“On Leo’s orders.”

“What? Why?” Leo sent Luca to retrieve my cat. Why would he do that? “Oh, my god,” I whisper, horror slicing through me. Will he use Charlie to get answers out of me? Will he hurt him—?

“Hey, relax,” Luca says, as if reading my thoughts and fears. “I don’t kill animals. Or hurt them. Ever.” He exhales sharply. “No one is going to hurt your fucking cat.”

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