Page 65 of Ruthless Vow

The one name that caused huge issues was Nikolai Ivanov. Leo was adamant against inviting Mikhail. As it happens, Mikhail is away on his yearly month-long trip to Russia, a fortunate coincidence. But Leo and Sabina butted heads over Nikolai. Leo said he needed to be on the list. Sabina said she despises him and refused to invite him, that his father murderedSalvatore and she would not have the son of her father’s killer at her party. Leo glared. Sabina glared. The fight went on for days. I didn’t ask who won.

The massive rooftop patio is already swarming with guests. And swarming with security, discretely dressed to the nines in tuxes to blend in as best as towering mountains of muscle can.

Leo’s palm presses to the small of my back, urging me forward. We wade into a pool of faces—some familiar, some not. Business associates, those legit and those not so legit. A few celebrities—a TV actor with a young and gorgeous showgirl on his arm greets Leo like they’re old college friends. But Leo didn’t go to college, I know that much.

“How do you know him?” I ask as we move along.

“I took care of a problem for him back when he was a nobody. He’s extremely grateful.”

It’s all he tells me. I take the hint that that’s all I probably should know about the situation. Still, my curiosity is piqued. There’s still so much about Leo that I don’t know. But I want to. I want to know everything—the good and the bad.

I see Dante sitting with a group of people near a fire pit. Cassio is with Luca at the bar.

Then I spot Alina and we make eye contact. She offers me a smile and approaches us with Damian at her side. They’re a stunning couple, Alina in a vibrant blue sequined gown with a plunging neckline, and Damian in a black tux with a silk bowtie in the same color and shade as Alina’s gown.

“How can someone who looks so gorgeous look so uncomfortable?” Alina asks, giving me a quick hug.

“I don’t get out much lately,” I say dryly.

Damian doesn’t smile, but he doesn’t look forbidding, either. “Nicole.”

“Damian,” I reply. “Hello.”

“Hello.”

Since the family dinner last month, I’ve had next to no contact with Leo’s brothers, other than a few moments of seeing them at the house. They were there to see him, not me, of course. We’d exchanged greetings and not much else.

I’m pretty sure they don’t want me dead. But they’re definitely not jumping at the chance to be my best friend, either.

“Have you seen our little sister?” Leo asks.

“She’s making the rounds with Roberto,” Damian says.

Leo sweeps his gaze across the crowd. “Any of his people here? I bought plane tickets for his parents. Got them a suite here at the Paris.”

“I don’t think he has many people,” Damian says. “A few friends, maybe. He’s from out East. This party is all Russo.”

Leo nods. “Do you think he knows what he’s getting into, marrying our girl?”

Damian gives him a smirk. “Not a chance in hell.”

“Good luck to him.” Leo laughs, a warm, hearty sound from deep in his throat. He laughs so rarely, it’s always a welcome surprise that sends a shiver of pleasure through me.

“We should talk,” Damian says with a quick glance at me.

“You have news?” Leo asks.

“Some intel out of Chicago.”

A breath catches in my chest. “About Bianca?”

Damian glances at me. “Yeah. She’s been keeping quiet, no sight of her in weeks. But we have security footage from this morning that places her at O’Hare.”

The airport.

“Going where?” Leo asks.

“Denver.”

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