Page 11 of Sinister Intentions

I shrugged—tried to play it off.

Fee handed me my laptop and plopped down on my bed. “You should be careful around Vince Salvini. He’s different.”

“Different? Hah. He’s just a big bully who uses his toxic masculinity to try to intimidate people. Like all the rest of them.”

Fee cocked her head. “I’m not so sure. I mean, Alex can be a big bully, but Vince? He’s more like a giant bulldozer.”

He definitely was that—he stood out even between all the other commanding men in my life. I mean, my father’s presence wasn’t something to sneeze at.

My father.

He would be all alone if I left. Ever since Cara decided to stay with Sophie for the next couple of months after giving birth, I was the only one of his children left.

Would he be okay?

I sighed and shook my head. My father wasn’t an innocent bystander in all of this. He was the one who agreed to Salvini’s deranged arranged-marriage plot.

And even if I’d go through with getting married, he would end up alone anyway—not that I ever would go through with anything Vincenzo Salvini suggested, demanded, or ordered. “Well, Salvini found his match because I have no intention of letting him intimidate me. Or backing down.” …Or following his demands.

Not even while preparing my escape.

Fee narrowed her eyes slightly, and I could tell she didn’t quite believe me. But what else could I say? That Vince’s intense gaze made me shudder at the same time as it made my heart race in a way that had nothing to do with fear? That his commanding presence both infuriated and intrigued me?

Bah. Why was I even thinking about him?

Vince Salvini was an asshole of grand proportions, and white-washing or romanticizing his behavior wasn’t healthy.

This was not a romance novel where the serial killer was suddenly the hero.

Hell no.

There was nothing good about Vince Salvini. And there was nothing to excuse about his bully behavior.

I looked down at my laptop in my hands.

This was what I should be focusing on. Untangling myself from operation Nibor—as we called it. The reverse name of Robin, short for Robin Hood. Taking from the rich—or, in this case, the dirty criminals—and giving it to those who deserved and needed it.

Fee’s phone suddenly rang, and her whole face lit up. “Hey, girl… Oh, hey, Cara.”

I put the laptop on my desk, crossed the room, and hopped on the bed until I could see Cara’s and Sophie’s faces on the tiny screen of Fee’s phone.

“Hey, you two. How’s everything going?” Sophie asked.

“Shouldn’t we be the ones asking you?” Fee said.

Sophie was almost due to have her baby, so she was probably ready to burst by now. She looked positively glowing. Was it because of the pregnancy? Or was it Gabe?

Sophie chuckled. “I’m good. I have a belly as if I was carrying twins, and I’m constantly peeing, but I’m good.”

Fee clucked in agreement. “I can’t wait until I can hold the little one for the first time.”

A sudden sadness slithered through me like a sip of ice water. If I ran, if I escaped this life, I would never be able to hold my nephew, would never be able to hug my sisters again.

I would be completely alone. On the run, constantly having to look behind me. Never safe. But free.

My throat suddenly felt as if a giant rock was lodged in there.

I needed to find another way. Needed to find a way to escape Salvini’s demands and keep my life and family.

---