Page 39 of Silent Vows

“Giuseppe DeLuca was an interesting man to take confession from.” Romano’s smile turns cruel in the weak light, transforming his handsome features into something grotesque. “So many…sins to absolve.”

Behind them, I see Matteo’s silhouette tense in the shadows, his gun hand trembling—the first time I’ve ever seen him lose composure. That small tell sends ice through my veins.

What could make Matteo DeLuca, the most controlled man I know, react like that?

I force myself to focus, to keep playing my part. “He told me everything.” Another step forward, drawing them further from the path. Every movement is calculated now, a deadly dance.“Which is more than you’ve done. Does Bianca know why you really took her? What you plan to do with her?”

Something ugly flashes across Father Romano’s face, twisting his features into something demonic in the light. “The girl is safe. For now.”

“Is she?” I meet his gaze steadily, silently praying Matteo is ready. “Are you sure about that?”

Behind them, a twig snaps. As they turn toward the sound, Matteo explodes into action like some avenging angel. Two shots ring out in perfect synchronization—precise, deadly. Two of Carmine’s men drop before anyone can react, their bodies hitting the rocky beach with dull thuds. I dive for cover as chaos erupts around us.

The beach transforms into a war zone. Muzzle flashes light up like deadly fireworks, the sound of gunfire echoing off the lake’s surface. I roll behind the boulder, my father’s training taking over. When one of the remaining men appears around the edge, I don’t hesitate. My shot catches him in the shoulder, the recoil traveling up my arm as he stumbles back with a cry.

“Bella, down!” Matteo’s voice cuts through the firefight with commanding urgency.

I drop instantly, bullets pepper the rock where my head had been moments before. Chips of stone rain down on me as I roll to better cover. Through the chaos, I catch glimpses of Matteo in action—he moves like something out of a dream, each motion precise and lethal. His guns bark in concert, every shot finding its mark. He’s beautiful in his violence, terrible and magnificent all at once.

But Carmine and Romano are already retreating up the path, using their last remaining man as a human shield. My uncle’s face is twisted with rage and something else—fear, maybe. He knows what Matteo is capable of.

“This isn’t over!” Carmine shouts as car doors slam above. His voice carries over the lake, full of venom and dark promises. “Ask him about the real truth behind Sophia’s death! About Giuseppe’s secrets! About what your precious husband has been hiding all these years!”

Engines roar to life, and then they’re gone, leaving only the sound of waves lapping at the shore and our harsh breathing. The smell of gunpowder hangs heavy in the air, mixing with the metallic scent of blood and the crisp morning breeze off the lake.

Matteo appears beside me like a ghost, his hands immediately moving over my body, checking for injuries. His touch is gentle despite the deadly grace he displayed moments ago. “That was incredibly stupid,” he growls, but I hear the fear beneath his anger, see it in the tight lines around his eyes. “They could have killed you, dammit.”

“They could have killed us both if I hadn’t created a distraction.” I wince as his fingers find a graze on my arm I hadn’t noticed in the heat of battle. The adrenaline is wearing off, making everything sharper, more painful. “Besides, now we know Bianca’s alive. And sedated, which means she’s somewhere nearby. They wouldn’t risk moving her far if they’re using her as leverage.”

His hands still on my arm. The light catches the blood on his knuckles—his or someone else’s, I’m not sure. “You did all that…for Bianca?” There’s something in his tone that makes my heart skip a beat.

“I saw your face when Carmine mentioned her being sedated.” I meet his gaze steadily, trying to convey everything I can’t put into words. How much I understand about protecting family, about the lengths we go to for those we love. “I knew you were about to do something reckless. Besides, she’s your daughter, blood or not. Which makes her family. Even if she hates me.”

Something flickers in his eyes at the word “blood”—that same haunted look he gets whenever Giuseppe is mentioned. There are still so many secrets between us, still so much I don’t understand. But before I can analyze it further, he pulls me close, burying his face in my hair. His heart thunders against my cheek, reminding me that for all his deadly capability, he’s still human. Still vulnerable when it comes to those he loves.

Suddenly, headlights appear on the road above, and we both tense. Matteo’s body instantly shifts, putting himself between me and potential danger. But a familiar voice calls down, “Boss? Area’s secure. But we need to move—local police will be here soon.”

Relief floods through me at Antonio’s voice. Matteo helps me to my feet, keeping me close as we climb the rocky path. My bare feet are bleeding, I realize distantly, leaving crimson marks on the stones. His security team works with practiced efficiency, already cleaning up any evidence of the firefight. These men are professionals—they know how to make bodies and bullets disappear without a trace.

“We have a safe house thirty minutes from here,” Matteo tells me as we reach the waiting SUV. His hand spans my lower back, steadying me. “Medical supplies, dry clothes, everything we need.”

I lean into his warmth, exhaustion suddenly hitting me like a wave. The events of the past hour feel surreal—the plane crash, the freezing swim, confronting my uncle, the gunfight. How many lives have I lived since becoming Matteo’s wife? Artist, bride, survivor, fighter.

“And then what?” I ask, though I already know the answer.

He pulls me closer, his lips brushing my temple in a gesture that feels both protective and possessive. “Then we find my daughter. And make them regret ever touching our family.”

The possessive note in his voice sends a shiver through me that has nothing to do with my wet clothes. Because that’s what we are now—family. Complicated, dangerous, possibly doomed, but family nonetheless. Not like Carmine’s version of family, built on lies and betrayal, but something stronger. Something forged in blood and bullets and trust.

As the SUV pulls away from the lake, I find myself watching Matteo’s profile. The sun paints his features in shades of gold and shadow, highlighting the contradiction of the man himself—deadly yet gentle, controlled yet passionate, hiding secrets yet desperately wanting to trust.

There are still truths to be uncovered about Sophia and Giuseppe DeLuca. Carmine’s parting words echo in my mind, hinting at darkness I’m not sure I’m ready to face. But right now, none of that matters as much as finding Bianca. As much as keeping our fragile, newborn family alive.

The only question that haunts me as we speed down the road: what will those secrets cost us when they finally come to light?

Because in our world, truth always demands payment in blood.

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