Page 55 of Impure Vows

“Where’d he go?” I mutter under my breath, frustration bubbling up.

“What’s that?” Carla asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” I reply quickly. “Just wondering where Dante disappeared to.”

“Probably handling business,” Gina says with a shrug. “Those men always are.”

“Right,” I say, but my mind is racing. Where is he?

The women continue chatting, their voices a distant hum as I struggle to concentrate. My eyes keep darting around the room, searching for Dante’s familiar form. He’s usually so easy to spot, his presence commanding and impossible to ignore.

Tonight, though, he’s vanished like a ghost, leaving an unsettling void. My mind races with possibilities, each one moretroubling than the last. Where could he have gone, and what could he be doing? The uncertainty gnaws at me, making it hard to stay engaged in the conversation.

It’s unnerving not knowing where he is after having my every move meticulously tracked since I’ve been with him. The feeling of his constant watchful presence has become a twisted kind of comfort, and now, without it, anxiety claws at me. I force myself to calm down, drawing in a deep breath and excusing myself to the bathroom.

“Excuse me, ladies,” I say, flashing a polite smile at Carla and Gina. “I need to freshen up.”

“Of course,” Carla replies, her eyes glinting with curiosity. “Don’t get lost now.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I mutter, slipping away before they can say more.

My heels click against the polished marble floor as I wander away from the crowded party, looking for a bathroom. The noise fades as I round a corner, entering a quieter part of the mansion. The silence feels like a blanket, smothering the chaos of the event. I take a deep breath, enjoying the brief reprieve.

Voices drift from a nearby room, low and urgent. I wouldn’t usually eavesdrop, but I catch Dante’s name, and curiosity grips me. Pressing myself against the wall, I inch closer, straining to hear.

“...sure he doesn’t suspect anything?” one voice asks, tension lacing every word.

“No, he’s too distracted with his new pet,” another voice replies, dripping with disdain. “Aliyah, or whatever her name is.”

My heart races, pounding so loud I’m afraid they’ll hear it. They’re talking about me.

“We can’t let her interfere,” the first voice insists. “If Dante finds out?—”

“He won’t,” the second voice interrupts. “He’s too busy parading her around like a trophy.”

I press my back harder against the wall, my mind racing. Who are these people? What are they planning?

“Just stick to the plan,” the second voice continues. “Once Dante’s distracted enough, we make our move.”

My breath catches in my throat. This isn’t just idle gossip; it’s a conspiracy. Against Dante. And I’m somehow a part of it.

The voices grow quieter, as if they’re moving further into the room. I inch forward, desperate to hear more.

The voices grow clearer as I press myself against the wall, heart pounding in my chest.

"I’m telling you, Carlo, we need to move on this now. Dante's gotten too comfortable," a gruff voice says.

My eyes widen. Carlo Vitale? Dante's supposed ally?

"And you’re sure your men are ready?" Carlo's voice, smooth and calculating, replies.

"Ready and waiting."

I clap a hand over my mouth to stifle a gasp. This can’t be happening. My mind races, piecing together the implications. The Vitales are planning to betray Dante. I need to tell him, now.

"Keep it quiet until the signal. We can’t afford any slip-ups," Carlo continues.

"I know, I know. Trust me, Dante won’t see it coming."

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