Page 49 of Ruthless Vow

Hours later, from the position of the sun I’m guessing early evening, the door to my room unlocks. Danila opens the door and says, “Follow me.”

“Where’s my aunt?” I ask, as we head downstairs.

“She’s gone out,” he tells me.

“Where?”

“That’s privileged information.”

It’s a disappointment, but I don’t press. I need to tell her about the bomber, but last night wasn’t the right time given that she refused to speak with me alone. I have no way to judgeDanila’s loyalty, so I wasn’t about to make any revelations in front of him.

I finally give him my full attention. “So who exactly are you? I thought you were a temporary hire, a mercenary, but you aren’t, are you? Bianca said you’re her right hand.”

“Currently, yes.”

“What do you do for her?”

“Anything she requires of me.”

That’s a rather broad statement. “Anything? Cooking, cleaning…dog walking? She doesn’t have a dog, but if she did…would you take it out for a walk if she asked you to?”

Danila doesn’t smile. “You’re to come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Miss Moretti wants me to take you to your sister.”

I can’t help but gasp. “You’re taking me to Sofia?”

Last night, my aunt had said I could see my sister tomorrow. I hadn’t believed her. She’d made that promise so many times before, only to let my hopes crash and burn. But this time, she wasn’t lying.

He nods. “Follow me.”

“She isn’t here in the house?” I ask as I follow Danila out the front doors to a waiting limo.

“She’s nearby.” He holds the back-passenger door open for me and I get inside. Instead of joining me in the back, he gets in the front driver’s side. I peer through the partition to the front before it closes, blocking my view.

The car begins to move. We head down the mountain, the forest becoming less dense. I shift anxiously in my seat, eager to see my sister.

Time ticks past.

Sofia is definitely not nearby.

For a while, I ignore the growing gut feeling that something is off, very off about all of this.

My pulse kicks up. I knock on the partition to get more answers, but nothing happens. I’m ignored.

I try the windows, but they don’t budge. The door is locked.

I’m trapped.

I pound on the partition again. “Where are we going? Where are you taking me?”

My thoughts spin, puzzle pieces dancing just beyond my grasp. I snatch at them, random bits not quite fitting together to give me a clear picture. And then they do, snapping into place.

Click.A bomb killed my father.

Click.My aunt blamed Leo—Leo specifically—for my father’s death.

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