Page 60 of Brutal Vows

“Hello, husband.” Fuck, I love it when she calls me that. “How did your call go?”

“Good,” I tell her honestly. “I need to see if you can dredge up some footage for me.”

Gia perks up at the mention of helping. “I’d love to.” Her eyes light up when I hand her the information. “When do you need it by?”

“Kenzo and Adrian will be here in about five hours.” She nods her head, already getting up from her lounger, her e-reader forgotten as she delves further down the rabbit hole.

“I’m going to need access to your laptop,” she says, making her way back into the house. I can’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm for the project. I know in the future I am going to need to involve her more in the business. Gia isn’t the typical mafia wife. Her father might have groomed her for the role, but that isn’t who she is. My wife likes to be involved. Thrives on it and I want to make sure I give her that as much as I am able.

“It’s on the dining room table for you,” I tell her. “When we get back from Italy, I will have Dario get you your own.”

“Thank you,” she says, leaning in for a quick kiss before she makes herself comfortable at the table and gets to work. Watching her immersed in her passion fills me with a gentle warmth. Her eyes sparkle with delight, and a contented smile graces her lips as her fingers fly over the keyboard.

Leaving her be, I navigate my way back to my office. As I walk, I shoot off a quick text to Dario. He’s already waiting for me when I turn down the hallway.

“Are we all set?” I settle into the leather chair behind my desk. I reach into the bottom drawer, retrieving a bottle of amber whiskey and two crystal glasses.

“Everything is a go,” Dario confirms, accepting one of the glasses I’ve filled with the rich, caramel liquid. “The men will meet us at the airstrip. The weapons have been stowed, and the paperwork for the trip has been filed.” Hetakes a deliberate sip, the warm liquid eliciting a groan of appreciation as it slides down his throat.

I take a sip of my own drink, savoring the smooth, smoky flavor, and nod. The weight of the moment hangs between us, as tangible as the taste of whiskey lingering on our tongues. “Good. We need to be as prepared as we can.”

“Hiro texted me about Megumi.”

Leaning back in my chair, I cross my ankle over my knee and let out a long sigh. My fingers tap the crystal in my hand as I think about what Megumi’s death means. It didn’t go as planned, but at least we know she contacted someone. We need to figure out who that person is. We’d been hoping that Megumi would lead us back to Salvatore. Now we will need to figure something else out.

“Gia’s digging up information as we speak,” I say. “I’m hoping we can get the audio from the device we planted on her, but if it didn’t get uploaded to the cloud in time, it may be a lost cause.”

Dario nods thoughtfully. “Something isn’t sitting right with all of this. My contacts in Italy are starting to doubt that Salvatore is even in charge.”

My brows pinch together, and I lean forward, resting my elbows on the desk. “Who else would be in his place?”

Dario shakes his head. “Not in his place,” he tells me. “Pulling his strings.”

“Who else would there be?”

Mysottocaposhrugs. “An outside influence, maybe?” he suggests. “Someone Salvatore made a deal with to help keep power after he murdered your father.”

I drag a hand down my tired face and groan. “Who the hell has that much influence?”

“Maybe it is someone from theGeryon?”

That is a possibility I hadn’t considered. We’ve beenassuming that Salvatore is the reason the old society resurfaced, but there could be a puppeteer. It is possible there is another faction of theGeryonthat is operating from another part of the world that we have no clue even exists.

That possibility hadn’t crossed my mind. We assumed Salvatore was the reason the old society reemerged, but there might be another force behind the scenes. There could be a different faction of the Geryon operating somewhere in the world, unknown to us.

But it doesn’t sit right with me. The timing and power dynamics seem off. It’s as if there’s a missing piece to the puzzle, making the whole picture unclear.

“I’ll reach out to some more contacts,” Dario offers. “They might be able to shed some light on the situation.”

“You sure have a lot of contacts for being the best friend of a blood traitor.” I smile wryly.

Dario fixes me with a serious look. “I’ve told you many times, Vitali, but you never listen.” He shakes his head, almost as if he is disappointed. “There are more men than you think who have maintained their loyalty to you. It is the reason they stayed behind. They knew you would one day fight to take back what is rightfully yours, and they wanted to be ready.”

His words leave me feeling unsettled. I’ve always been aware of a few loyal individuals, but Dario’s portrayal makes it sound as though the small group I envisioned is actually a formidable force. It’s both reassuring and intimidating, and I’m not sure how to reconcile the two.

Before I can question him, the quick, rhythmic thudding of feet against the wooden floorboards interrupts me. The sound grows louder, and a few moments later, Gia bursts into the office. Her face is pale and her eyes shimmer with tears that cling stubbornly to her lashes, refusing tofall. The utter devastation painted across her face has my heart leaping in my chest. My chair scrapes harshly against the cold marble floor as I leap up, the glass of whiskey shattering against floor while my focus remains locked on Gia.

She’s shaking, her petite form shivers with something akin to fear, and I hate it. I despise the vulnerability etched across her face. It doesn’t belong there. My wife is gripping the open laptop tightly against her chest as she stares at me with wounded eyes.

---