Page 24 of Risky Vows

I push him to the dresser before he can get fully upright and bend him over, stretching his hand out on the surface. He screams as I cut off his thumb, more blood gushing as the small appendage falls on the carpet.

"Son of a bitch," he mutters.

I wipe the sweat from my forehead. He frowns, his face contorted in a bunch of lines, none of them happy. He knows this is it. He has to.

As if trying to protect his reputation, he charges into me one last time, probably hoping I'll lose balance and he can take me to the floor. I pull the gun from my ankle holster and shoot him between his eyes.

He falls like dead weight, a pool of blood around him.

I grab a handkerchief from my pocket, walk over to where his thumb fell, wrap it, and bring it with me. I give him one last look to ensure he's gone. Picking up my knife and gun, I place them in the inside pockets of my jacket. I smooth my suit and close the door.

As I make my way back, Vittoria comes up to me.

"Is everything okay?" she asks, touching her chest. "I've heard some noise, and?—"

"Everything is good now," I tell her before I walk out. "Send some people to clean your guest room. Trash needs to be taken out."

14

Amara

"Would you like more tea?"Colleen asks me as I lie on the luxurious backyard couch.

"No, thanks."

She gives me a small smile and goes back inside.

The masseuse, a known professional in the state, left about thirty minutes ago. She brought her massage table and set it up in the backyard. I listened to the birds sing and the rustle of the oak and elm trees while she worked on my kinks.

Then Colleen insisted I try some of her tea, and here I am.

Relaxed. Well fucked. Without a care in the world—at least for now.

Last night marked a small milestone in my and Massimo's unconventional marriage.

After we had sex and he told me he fucked someone on our wedding day, I was livid. I don't know why. I didn't have the right to be. This was an arranged marriage, and I couldn't expect loyalty from him, especially before we tied the knot.

But rationally deserted me, and inside, a white-hot rage built. Jealousy.

A part of me wanted to know everything about this woman. What does she look like? How long were they together? How did she keep his interest? And the scariest doubt… are they really over?

I was caught in a moment of fury and shame. I would have slept in another room for the night. But he didn't let me, and we talked.

I shouldn't have told him about what Ugo did. But it felt so good to share it with someone—someone who wouldn't be horrified by violence. Then we had sex.

My phone buzzes, and I look at it. My mom's face shows on the screen.

I take a long breath.

Relaxation time is over. Mom may have news about my brother, who's being examined at a hospital today. I pick up the phone, and every muscle that was loose a second ago stiffens. "Hello."

"Amara, are you alone?" my mother asks, her voice edgy.

Even though I know I am, I look around for good measure. The little hairs behind my neck stand on end. "Yes, why?"

"Well, your husband came over unannounced and killed Ugo."

I tighten my grasp on the phone. "What?"

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