Page 24 of Brutal Vows

“Salvatore forced her to spin his tale,” Vitali sneers as he paces the length of the back of the couch. The vein in his temple is jumping, and he clutches at his hair in frustration. “That has to be it.”

Adrian and Kenzo exchange a doubtful glance that doesn’t go unnoticed by their friend.

“You think she betrayed my father? Betrayed me?” The sorrow in his voice cuts deep. All this time, I doubt he ever believed her to be an accomplice in Salvatore’s story. She’s his mother, but if the ordeal with Kenzo’s own mother Megumi tells us anything it is that betrayal can come from the most unlikely of places when power and money are involved.

“It is always something I’ve thought to be off the table,” Kenzo admits. “But”

“No offense, Kenzo, but my parents weren’t an arranged marriage. They were a love match,” Vitali interrupts coldly. “She didn’t come from prestige or wealth. Hell, she didn’t even know who he truly was until he proposed.”

Kenzo’s mouth turns down at the edges. I can see the apology written in his eyes, but that doesn’t stop him from speaking his truth. “That doesn’t mean that something didn’t change over time or that you were told the whole story.”

“Do you know who has the whole story?” Vitali mocks. “No one, because they are all dead except your mother who can’t be trusted with the information she’s given us.”

Kenzo shrugs his shoulders as if to say,that’s fair. The three of them remain silent as they mull over what they’ve learned. They haven’t asked me any new questions and unless they do, I’m not inclined to simply give answers. I never expected the conversation to take a sudden turn when I mentioned what Vitali is known as in his home country. It eats at me that he hasn’t been aware of the rumors that Salvatore and his mother spread to gain favor.

“Maybe there is someone who knows the truth,” Adrian breaks the silence. “Someone who knew our parents growing up. A person who would have attended Royal Elite when they did.”

Their conversation floats to me across the room, a jumbled mess of facts and figures, names and faces. They fail to make sense as I listen, intermittently catching a phrase or two. Whatever school they are referencing, I’ve never heard of it. From what I can gather, it is some kind of Mafia college for heirs and made-men.

“Tomas Ivankov.” Adrian snaps his fingers as he calls out the name. “He would have gone to Royal Elite at the same time as our parents.”

A prickling sensation, like the stroke of a whetted blade, courses through me at the sound of his name. My blood runs cold, plunging calm demeanor into an arctic chill. Growing up, I heard whispers, stories that painted him as a phantom in the night.I’uomo nero. The boogeyman. A tale to scare children of the upper echelon of the mafia from misbehaving. Until, one day, I found out the boogeyman was real.

I remember the last time I saw him—his dark eyes gleaming with a malice that could make even the strongquiver in fear. The memory frays my nerves, stings like salt poured onto my gaping wounds. My heart tightens, my vision blurs for a moment as his name sears itself into my mind, underlined by past horrors and looming threats.

Tomas Ivankov might be a hero to many, but to me, he is just another man who stole my innocence too soon. A monster. A murderer. And Vitali is ready to drag me back to the hell I managed to escape.

Thirteen

The little deeris keeping something from me. I can feel it, but I let it slide. For now. She still owes us more information about her father, but we’ve tabled that discussion for a new one. It didn’t go unnoticed by me or my brothers that the mere mention of Tomas Ivankov’s name caused her face to pale—a fleeting moment of horror passing over her face before she managed to hide it.

Not fast enough.

She tossed and turned in bed most of the night, murmuring to herself until the early morning hours. When sleep finally took her, it was restless. So, I am less than cheery this morning.

“You don’t have to be so grumpy,” Gia mutters when I bark at her to get out of bed.

“I might not be if someone hadn’t kept me up all night,” I growl. “Now go take a fucking shower.” A small pout graces her full lips, and she turns her back to me as she moves off the bed and toward the bathroom.

“Are you going to let me go now?” she asks, her gaze on the floor as she walks. This woman. Does she really think Iam going to just release her? She is Faro Nardoni’s daughter, which means she is useful.

“Why would I do that?”

Turning, her brows knit together as she stares at me. “Why not? I’m no use to you. I told you, I don’t know where Elio is or even where he would go. As you proved last night, I don’t know anything about him. What use am I?”

I shrug, not meeting her eyes as I start to undress. “You may not know where your brother is, Gia,” I tell her. “But you are Faro Nardoni’s daughter. That itself is useful.”

“What does that matter?” she questions. “He was going to sell me to Salvatore for more favor. Let him or his men do as they pleased with me. I’m not worth anything to him.”

But she is. Gia Nardoni is the golden ticket to taking my uncle down.

“I’m sure I’ll come to some arrangement with him.” I toss the sentence out casually as I finish throwing on my clothes and turn to face her. “You for Elio’s location is a good start.”

I watch tears well in her eyes. “You would send me back to him?” she whispers, her fingers coming up to stroke her neck, clutching nonexistent pearls, eyes lowering to the floor.

It amuses me that she thinks I have some sort of morality meter. I’m not above using her to get what I want. Gia isn’t my guest; she is my captive. Leverage. A means to end.

“Look at me.” When she doesn’t lift her gaze to mine, I cross the room and tangle my fist in her hair, forcing her to meet my gaze. I’ve been too lenient with her since we arrived here. The shit going down with Kenzo over the last several weeks has kept me at a distance from her. She’s grown bold. “What did I tell you on the plane?” She doesn’tsay anything, but she doesn’t need to. I’ll remind her. “Fai quello che dico o sarai punito.Behave or you will be punished.”

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