Page 3 of The Bodyguard's Vow

My brother rarely swore in front of us girls, so his reaction didn’t bode well for me. “Please, Rafa. I’d never forgive myself if that creep got his hands on her.”

“Neither would I,sorellina.” He sat down again and leaned his forearms against the edge of his desk. “If Oswald is trying to marry her off to Douglas Snyder, she’s right to be concerned.”

“More like scared out of her mind,” I muttered. “She didn’t even think it was safe for me to call or text about this, so she’s waiting at the diner for me to return.”

He leaned back in his chair. “How much time do we have?”

Relieved, I sighed. “She’s ready to leave as soon as I call. The sooner you get her out of here, the better.”

Rafa ran a hand through his thick hair, his mind already working. “This isn’t going to be easy. I’m sure Oswald is keeping a close eye on his sister if he has a deal riding on her cooperation.”

“But you can do it, right?” I pressed, gripping the arms of my chair.

“It’ll take some maneuvering to make sure our hands are clean in order to avoid a war with Oswald. Luckily, this is what Matteo’s MC specializes in. I’ll reach out to King.”

Our cousin had never been interested in joining The Family, and hismammawould’ve been heartbroken if he had. Aunt Emilia had lost her first husband to the Mafia, and she didn’t want to lose her son, too. But Matteo had grown up as a part of a fiercely loyal, close-knit family, and being a loner was not in his DNA. He’d found his own kind of brotherhood in the Hounds of Hellfire MC. When he patched, it had formed an alliancewith them, and I knew Rafa had a strong relationship with their president, King.

I felt a little better knowing we had such a strong connection to the people who would help my friend. “What can I do? I want to help.”

Rafa’s expression was all business as he looked at me over steepled fingers and warned, “In order for Oswald to buy that she’s really gone, we’ll need to take it a step further than just wiping away her trail. We’ll have to make it convincing, Gabbi.”

I nodded, my breath caught in my chest. “You mean she has to die.”

He nodded, but by his stoic expression, I knew there was more to it.

They would probably make it look like Opal had been brutally murdered. “And it will be messy.”

He didn’t acknowledge what I said, which was answer enough. Instead, he opened a drawer and pulled out a cell phone. Handing it to me, he ordered, “This is a clean burner. The Hounds will use this to communicate the plan to Opal. Give it to her, then get your ass back here. I don’t want Oswald to have any reason to think you were involved. And I don’t want you around if things go sideways.”

1

DOMENICO

18 months later

Family dinners were part of the fabric of life when you were Italian. Especially when you belonged to a family as big as mine. But when you tossed in the members of The Family—bound by oath, not blood—it was hard to get a word in edgewise. Not that I had much interest in talking. I’d never been the chatty sort, more of an observer, which was one trait that made me an excellent bodyguard.

I wasn’t exactly a loner, though the group of people I preferred to be around was small. And even though I was used to these loud and crazy get-togethers, there were times when I needed to step away and take a deep breath.

Of course, that was largely due to the smell of honeysuckle and jasmine that filled my lungs every time I inhaled. The scent had haunted me for years, and when it attempted to permeate the tiny cracks around my walled-off heart, the only solution was to run like a fucking coward and find some fresh air.

“I’m going to step outside,” I murmured to my best friend, Raffaele DeLuca. He was also my boss. To most everyone here,he was the boss since he was the underboss of the DeLuca Crime Family in charge of all the southern branches. But bodyguard duty wasn’t truly necessary when he was surrounded by so many people who would lay down their lives for him. “I need some air.”

He turned his head, and his dark eyes held laughter when he quipped, “Liar. You’re trying to get away before themammasstart in on the lectures about babies and marriage.”

I shrugged, letting him assume he was right. Because the real answer would likely result in a bullet in my skull. He’d killed men for less.

As I turned around, my gaze briefly scanned the room, but I wasn’t looking for danger—at least, not to Rafa. My heart…that was another matter.

A frown curled my lips down when I didn’t see her, but I knew she was near because her scent was lingering, driving me to distraction.

We’d gathered at Rafa’s house since it was a giant mansion on a massive estate. As his bodyguard and the head of his security, I insisted on living under the same roof, so he’d turned a space at the back of the house into an apartment—although it was nearly as big as a house. It would have been the servant’s quarters when his great-uncle Guiseppe DeLuca had built the Magnolia Crest estate in 1931.

However, I didn’t meander toward my apartment. Instead, I wandered down a hallway that ended at the door to a perfectly landscaped garden. May in Georgia was warmer than the states up north, but it was perfect in the evening. I stepped outside and inhaled slowly, trying to flush out the lingering traces of honeysuckle and jasmine.

My body slowly uncoiled, releasing the tension that had me constantly on edge. The horse stables were only a short walk away, and I lifted my chin in greeting when one of the stablehands waved. Unfortunately, she took that as an invitation and began crossing the space between us.

Tynzlee—I’d been positive the name was fake until I ran a background check on her—was a talented exercise rider, but she was also a giant pain in my ass. Her wide smile made me cringe inside, and I didn’t have the patience for her flirting and bullshit tonight. So I nodded and pivoted around to escape inside. I didn’t count that as being a coward since I was saving her from my shitty mood.

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