Page 45 of Risky Vows

Determination keeps me standing, and I dash to the closet and grab some clothes. I need to shower and regroup—and most of all, I need distance from Massimo to think straight. "Massimo… I need to think. I can't be around you. If you don't leave, I'll go to a guest room."

"Now you're leaving? Who's being unreasonable?" he asks, and the hurt from before returns to his tone. "You betrayed me, Amara. You accused me of fucking you after I knew… but you've known all along. You want me to forgive you instantly when forgiving isn't my forte."

"I'll sleep in the guest room. This conversation isn't going anywhere. Good night," I say, slamming the door behind me before he can protest.

26

Massimo

I glanceat the clock—3 am.

Shit. I've been trying to sleep, but that's impossible.

Finding out that Alonzo Montefiore plans a comeback throws a wrench in my plans. The worst thing that can happen is for someone else to know what goes on in my family—extended family as it may—before I do, especially big news like that. If word gets out, the Gallos will be weaker.

Street cred is a currency I'm not willing to give away.

When Amara told me she loved me…

I inhale.

A cynical part of me wonders if she only said that because she knew or suspected I was somehow close to finding out. Or she told me to manipulate me before she confessed. I'll never know the truth now.

I also didn't tell her the truth when she asked me.

Yes, a dark part of me wishes I could kill her. It would make my life easier. But I'd rather take my own life before hurting her.But if I told her all of this, I'd be even weaker than I am now. She left me with no ammo.

Restless, I shove away the sheets. Shit.

I am weak. She's weakened me in every way.

But I'm also addicted to her. What am I going to do?

The thought of Amara sleeping in another room annoys me. I leave our suite and stride to the guest room. I heard her going inside on the opposite side of the floor.

I knock on the door and don't hear anything. So I walk in gently in case she's asleep. But when I go in, I don't see her anywhere. The bed is empty, still made, and the glass door leading to the terrace is open, the curtain swaying lazily in the fresh breeze.

Fuck. Anger builds inside me. How did she get away? She must not have gone far. I have four men at the house's perimeters and two at the entrance. All armed.

Anthony and Tom share a room in the staff quarters and must be sleeping.

She left. She used me and left. But she's dead wrong if she thinks this won't be dealt with. I thought she was mad at how we had sex again; I was rough and didn't give her the answer she wanted. I couldn't tell her I'd forgive her so easily, either.

She wouldn't have abandoned me if she loved me like she said she did. Agony shoots through my body, pointing in all directions. I'm restless, fucking angry, and seeing red.

I dash back to my room, put on a shirt, and go downstairs, calling my security team. In less than a minute, two of my men are showing me footage in my living room on their iPads.

"How did this happen?" I ask under my breath.

"We don't know, sir," one of them, Carlos, says.

"She got on the oak tree and climbed down where there were no cameras. Then, she used the code for the back gate when we were at the front gate," the other one says.

She must have seen the driver punch in the back gate code before. It's not like it was a secret from her—she wasn't a captive. She was,is, my wife. I never thought she'd store that information in her brain and use it to escape in the middle of the night like a fucking fugitive.

"The other guards should have supervised the back gate," Carlos says.

"They do, yes. One of them at least. He must have gone on a bathroom break," the other one says.

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