Page 81 of Twisted Vows

I tap the small broach Carolina gave me and let out a breath. “Here goes nothing.”

The space is designed to intimidate—dark wood-paneled walls, chandeliers that cast a dim golden light, and velvet booths tucked into shadowy corners. Smoke curls lazily through the air, mingling with the faint notes of whiskey and cigars.

I spot Giovanni immediately. He’s sprawled in a corner booth, his tailored suit pristine, a smirk already curling his lips when he sees me. I can feel his gaze dragging down my figure as I stride toward him, the heels of my stilettos clicking softly against the polished floor.

“What brings you here,” he says, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. He leans back, spreading his arms across the booth like a king surveying his court.

“I broke free of my cage.” I force a small, hesitant smile and slide into the seat across from him, my hands resting lightly on the table. “And decided to spread my wings.”

Giovanni chuckles a low, pleased sound. “I knew you wouldn’t last with that cold Russian.”

The words twist in my stomach, but I let them roll off me. I lean forward slightly, just enough to draw his attention. “I hate being ignored,” I say softly, tracing the edge of my dress. His eyes trace the movement, and I smile inwardly. “Maxsim only cares about the alliance—not me.”

Giovanni’s smirk widens. “Principessa, men like him don’t change. But me?” He leans forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I can offer you freedom.”

Freedom. The word tastes bitter on my tongue, but I tilt my head as if intrigued. “Freedom? At what cost?”

“Nothing you can’t afford,” he says smoothly, his confidence filling the room like a noxious gas. “If we get together, we can build something real. Something that doesn’t depend on the whims of the Bratva or the Famiglia.”

I nod to the waitress who delivers my drink and then take a slow sip to cover my disgust. His arrogance is almost too easy to exploit, but I have to be careful not to push too hard. Instead, I let a small, uncertain laugh escape and cover his hand. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is simple,” Giovanni says, shifting so our legs touch. “You deserve better than to be some Russian’s trophy wife. You deserve power, Ari. Real power.”

As he speaks, I catch Enzo’s subtle signal from the bar. He tilts his head slightly, then nods toward the waitress. A moment later, she discreetly delivers a doctored drink to Giovanni, and I slip the disc into his suit pocket.

He gives the woman a smarmy smile and then takes several gulps. This spy business is easier than I imagined.

Gio begins prattling on about his big plans, and I notice how quickly the drug affects him. Within minutes, his posture relaxes slightly, and his words become just a little looser, his smug confidence softening the edges of his usual caution.

He leans back in his seat, swirling his drink before taking another sip. “You know, Ari, I’ve always had a knack for seeing the bigger picture. André and Franco? They’re stuck in their ways, clinging to old alliances and outdated rules. But me? I see opportunities where they see obstacles.”

“And what opportunities are those?” I ask, keeping my tone light.

Giovanni chuckles as if the thought of betrayal doesn’t weigh on him at all. “You’re smarter than Maxsim gives you credit for,principessa. You see it, don’t you? He’s too proud to see the walls closing in around him.”

“What walls?” I ask lightly, feigning curiosity as I rest my hand on his leg. “Maxsim doesn’t exactly strike me as a man easily cornered.”

Giovanni leans forward, his smirk growing. “Sal’s playing chess while the rest of them are stuck on checkers. He’s got alliances André doesn’t even know about—powerful friends who are ready to move when the time comes. By the time André and Alexey realize what’s happening, the Bratva andFamigliawill already belong to Sal.”

My stomach tightens, but I keep my expression calm. “And what’s your role in all this, Giovanni? Surely, Sal isn’t handing you the keys to the kingdom out of the kindness of his heart.”

He laughs with a low, self-satisfied sound. “I’m Sal’s right hand. When this is over, I’ll have everything I deserve—power, territory, respect.” His gaze sweeps over me, lingering. “And you.”

I shift away. “Excuse me?”

He pulls me close, his expression softening as if he’s offering me a gift. “Come on, Ari. You’re too smart to think Maxsim can protect you from this. He’ll fight, of course—he’s too stubborn not to—but he’ll lose. And when he does, what do you think Sal will do with you? With your brother?”

I swallow hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “So your solution is… what? I betray my family and run off with you?”

“Not betray,” Giovanni says smoothly, leaning closer. “Align. Sal respects me. I can protect you. Together, we’d be untouchable.”

“And Maxsim?” I ask, my voice sharper than I intend.

Giovanni shrugs, his smirk turning cold. “Maxsim’s a dead man walking. You can either join me and survive or go down with him. The choice is yours.”

My pulse pounds in my ears, but I don’t move away. Instead, I let a slow, calculated smile spread across my lips. “So when is all this happening?” I ask, keeping my tone casual.

Giovanni’s grin falters for a fraction of a second. His sharp eyes narrow, and he studies me with a sudden intensity that sends a chill down my spine.

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