Page 48 of Poison Vows

“So, what’s going on?”Scar questions. “Is something up?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, but disclaimer! If I can answer, then I will, but if I can’t, I really won’t.”

“Fair enough,” I muse. “Your family… I mean, in your… world?—”

“The world of the secretly ultra-wealthy?”

“Uh, I was going to say Mafia but… sure?”

Scarlet throws her head back and laughs one of those richoh-you-silly-thingkind of laughs.

“Mafia?” She laughs again, clearly enjoying herself. “Who told you that?”

“Wait, isn’t your family one of those Italian underbelly mob families?”

Scarlet doubles over laughing some more until tears fall down her cheeks just as there’s a knock on the door.

“Oh my Lord, where have you been all my life? You’re hilarious!”

Now, I’m confused. What did I say? Aren’t the Eastons a Mafia Family?

“Oh crap, I’ve been caught!” Scar whispers dramatically when the door opens and Ty walks in.

Behind him, three trays are pushed in. Two of them are spread with platters of food while the other has a fancy-looking expresso machine, a pretty teapot, and various juices.

“Young Miss, Miss Scarlet, please have some brunch,” Ty says kindly.

“Uh, Ty, where’s my cousin?”

“He was summoned to the residence, Miss Scarlet,” Ty responds. “When you’re both done, I’ll take you there.”

“Oh well, coffee, tea, or juice, Ivy?” Scar asks. “I’ll have a cappuccino with a kick.”

As she says that, the chef-like attendants who pushed in the trollies quickly start making Scar’s drink. This kind of royal treatment… Emmett never does this in Westbrook Blues.

After I get a glass of apple juice and a cheese croissant, Ty and the attendants leave the room.

“Ivy dear, I don’t know which books are on your Kindle but, babes, our family isn’t some meager, small-minded fictitious Mafia organization.”

I feel called out when she mentions my Kindle because, well… guilty!

“Books are very informative and imitate reality more often than not.”

“Not when it comes to that dark Mafia nonsense,” Scarlet argues with a giggle.

“Hey, girls just want to feel love, even if it’s through dangerous paper characters that would set the world ablaze for the one they love.”

“I hear you, babes, and I’m right there with you! Men are better when they are written by women.” She hums in agreementthen we eye each other before we burst out laughing. “Is that how you became delulu?”

Oh my gosh, is it?

“Let’s get back on track!” I rush to change the topic, unbale to bear the truth of my yearnings born out of cliterature.

“I wasn’t going to point that out so rudely, but hey, you live and learn!”

“Gee, thanks, Scar.”

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