Page 82 of Twisted Vows

“Why do you need to put it in your calendar?” he asks, his tone light but with an edge of suspicion.

I lean in and see his eyes fall to my cleavage. “If I’m going to blow up my life, I want to be ready.”

His gaze lingers, and I feel its weight like a blade pressing against my skin. My pulse quickens, but I force myself to hold his gaze, to keep my expression steady.

Giovanni finally relaxes, his suspicion easing as a smirk returns to his lips. “Don’t worry,principessa.You’ll know in plenty of time.”

Across the room, Enso shifts slightly in his seat, his hand resting on the edge of the bar. The tension in his posture mirrors the knot in my stomach.

“Of course,” I say smoothly, standing and smoothing my dress. “I trust you, Giovanni.”

He stands as well, taking my hand and pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “You won’t regret it, Ari.”

I force a smile, my skin crawling at his touch. “I hope not.”

Once Enzo has delivered me safely to the car, I pull out my phone and check my messages.Got it.

Emilio glances over as we pull away from the valet station. “Mission accomplished?”

“According to Carolina, we got what she needed.”

“Good.”

I glance over and notice that Emilio is no longer wearing the Seiko. Maybe he really has learned the cost of betraying the family.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Maxsim

André’s office smells of leather, espresso, and inevitability. All the pieces have fallen into place, and the traitors will soon receive their punishment.

Months and months of skirmishes are finally over, and we have the names of those who want to take us down.

Memories of theDon’s party fill my mind. Why the hell didn’t I kill Giovanni right then and there? Mercy. It’s something that rarely pays off.

Rolling my shoulders, I feel the weight in the room. It’s oppressive and heavy, with the kind of silence that builds before the first shot is fired.

Carolina sits in a corner with her fingers flying over the keyboard of her laptop, the faint tap-tap-tap a counterpoint to quiet in the room. André stands behind her, his arms crossed, his sharp gaze fixed on the screen as though sheer focus can force the plan into perfection.

Franco sits across from me, rolling a cigar between his fingers but never lighting it, his version of restraint. Alexey leans against the wall near the window, staring out at the night, the flicker of lights catching the hard lines of his face.

The recording of Giovanni plays for the fifth time. His voice oozes arrogance, the kind that makes my teeth grind. Ari’s voice follows, steady and smooth, a siren’s song that lured the idiot into giving us everything we need to take him and Sal down.

I clench my fists as her voice fades. How dare she put herself in danger like that? If things had gone wrong—if Giovanni had caught even a whisper of a lie—

No. Those are thoughts I can’t afford. Not now.

“You’re growling,” Alexey mutters without turning around.

I exhale sharply, forcing my shoulders to relax. “Focus on the plan, not me.”

Alexey finally turns, his arms crossed. “She forced your hand, little brother. You’d still be circling the problem if she hadn’t acted.”

I shoot him a glare. “Less than thirty-six hours ago, you told me she was a distraction, and now you’re singing her praises.”

“Two things can be true at once.”

“Let’s focus,” Franco cuts in, his voice a calm blade slicing through the tension. “The device Ari dropped into Gio’s pocket shows his location near the warehouse.”

---