Page 37 of Risky Vows

Vittoria takes a couple of steps back, blinking. "You barged into my home and killed my best employee because he punished her years ago? Do you even know what she did?"

My fingers curl into a fist, and I remind myself Vittoria is Amara’s mother. "She told me everything," I spit out.

A spark flickers in her eyes, and she purses her lips. "She couldn't tell you everything… because she doesn't know everything."

Fine… I'll bite."What did she leave out?"

She lifts her eyebrow, an expression of self-importance crossing her face. "Did she tell you that her dear James was a lowlife journalist? He was writing an expose on our family."

"Is it true?"

She nods. "He never loved her. Got involved with her, yes, but he wanted to find out the truth about the Montefiores. He was a journalist and also a mafia aficionado. And a pretty stupid person if you ask me. Did he think the newspaper would protect him from us once the story came out?"

"He loved her," I say, the memory of her talking about this guy flashing in my head. I even got jealous of a dead person. Of course, he loved her… why wouldn't he?

"No, he didn't… and you think I'm such a bad mom. I never told her that. I wanted to, but my husband told me not to."

I tower over her. "She can't know. You can't tell her," I say in a voice that doesn't admit any opposition. Let Amara believe that James loved her. Who's to say he didn't? She'd be hurt if she found out he was writing a piece on her family. And this crappy family already hurt her enough—especially her mom.

She lifts both hands in surrender, retreating. "Don't worry, I don't intend to. I'm glad we've cleared up things. I was worried about why you killed Ugo. I don't condone killing if there isn't a good reason."

"There's always a good reason if you look close enough. Are we clear?"

22

Amara

"Hey," I say when Massimo joins me in the limo.

He talks to the driver, and the partition lifts. He sits beside me, as usual, with a concerned expression.

"Hi. Are you okay?"

"Yes." I make a note not to ask him what he talked about with Daphne, even if not knowing may kill me. But if I choose to trust him, I have to see it through.

"Daphne won't bother us anymore. I apologize for what happened."

My shoulders loosen. "No problem."

"Come here," he says, pulling me into his lap like a doll. Because of my dress, sitting on him is a bit awkward, and I grab all the fabric and bunch it around him. "I know it sounds messed up, but your brother's coma brought one positive thing—if he hadn't been in one, we wouldn't have married."

I stare at him, and my stomach sinks. Does he know anything? Is he testing me? "What a horrible thing to say, Massimo. I'd give anything for my brother to be healthy." I stiffen in his hold as he puts his arms around me.

He stares at me in silence, and the atmosphere shifts. I dislike most of my mother's opinions, but she was right about one thing—Alonzo's recovery will threaten the family business, the family itself, and my marriage. My newfound confidence goes on a coffee break.

"He's my brother. I love him. Why would you say that?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. If anything, I meant it as a compliment."

"A compliment?"

"Haven't you noticed? I'm obsessed with you." He strokes my cheek, dipping his hand to my breast and cupping it over my dress. I soften in his arms as he lifts the mountain of fabric bunched around me, sneaking his fingers under my dress. When he touches my bare pussy, he groans. "No underwear. You're obsessed with me, too, rat."

"What if I didn't wear any because I didn't want to get too hot?"

"You not wearing underwear is a sure way to getmehot."

He thrusts his fingers inside me, and I buck in his lap. Moaning, I fumble to get his cock out, tangling the dress between us in a frantic search for the zipper of his pants. I undo it with his help and push down his pants and briefs.

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