Page 94 of Heartless Vows

“Following my uncle.”

“He got away?”

The incredulity in Tristan’s voice reveals how deeply he looks up to Giorgio.

“You let him get away,” I say.

He gives a slight nod.

“Why?” Tristan asks.

I connect the dots.

He’s using his uncle as bait for whoever is behind the cyberattacks.

“What’s important is that he and my father are no longer a threat. They have no power anymore,” Giorgio says into my hair before lifting his head and directing the rest of his words toward Tristan, “so we just need to focus on settling you into your new room.Capisci?”

Tristan nods before going ramrod straight.

“Wait, you have a room ready for me?”

“I do, but you can change anything you want,” Giorgio says.

“But you just said I could live with you the day before yesterday,” Tristan argues.

I chuckle and squeeze Giorgio’s thigh as I speak the truth.

“He’s a man of his word. When he invited you to live with us, I bet he was already readying a room for you. When did you start prepping for us to move in?” I ask.

“The moment I realized you wouldn’t leave the Achilles household without him,” Giorgio responds. He pulls me tighter against his side and tilts my chin up.

“You’re not gonna kiss, are you? Because I’m still an impressionable little kid, you know? I—”

“Precisely. Watch and learn,mio ragazzino. Worshipping what you love is the joy of life and your biggest strength, not a weakness,” Giorgio murmurs as he lowers his lips to mine.

Every cell in my body wakes as he invades my mouth, filling me with delicious heat and turning the pain of my wounds into a tantalizing sting. I squirm in my seat and hiss when the movement pulls my bandages tight against the torn flesh across my shoulder blades. Giorgio lifts his head with obvious reluctance and wraps his hand around my throat to prevent me from chasing him.

“Not yet,mia topolina. You need to heal.”

I sigh and curl up against him as his words drain my excitement to a low simmer, allowing my fatigue to take center stage. When he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, I study my husband’s face in the passing streetlights.

Tristan said Giorgio made his declaration the day before yesterday, so I slept for almost three days in the clinic. Did Giorgio sneak away and get a vasectomy like he threatened? Certainly not, right? He wouldn’t do something like that without discussing it with me further, right?

Except, as I study his face, the pain bracketing his eyes tells me otherwise.

I sigh again as I realize how stupid I’m being.

Of course he already followed through on getting snipped. He was dead serious when he said he’d do anything to protect me.

It’s partially my fault for being so weak. Hell, I slept for three days. He had three days of staring at my pale and pathetic ass lying in the hospital bed to solidify his convictions.

Too many emotions hide within the realization, so I tuck it all away for later and wrap my arms around him, careful to avoid his bandages, and rest my ear over his heart.

He ghosts his fingers over my hip and cups the side of my face, holding me to his chest as though I’m the most precious thing in the universe. Tears gather on my lashes.

Less than two weeks ago, I planned to run away with Tristan and live the rest of our lives hiding from my mafia family, but now, I cling to the most dangerous and ruthless mafia don in New York City.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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