Page 95 of Poison Vows

I’m staring at Giovanni, but the edge of my vision is blurring, disappearing faster than I can process what’s happening to me.

I dry laugh. “I’m sure you know all about Senator Hughes, his wife, twin daughters, and where he comes from, right?”

“See, I have known Teddy for a number of decades. Every skeleton in the closet is known to me, including his interesting relationship with the woman who you take after.”

We both look in Beverly’s direction. She has her head thrown back, her neck elongated, her charm oozing as she laughs at whatever was just said to her.

“I don’t take after her,” I snap. “My twin sister does, however.”

“Twin sister?” Giovanni repeats and when I gesture toward Melissa who looks upset and annoyed next to her mother, Giovanni chuckles. “Interesting.”

“What is?”

“Oh, the secrets, dear girl,” he says with another chuckle, clearly enjoying himself, but when he turns back to look at me, the glint in his eye is so intense and dark, I take a small step back. “Who are you?”

“What?”

“I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere,” he says in a low, dangerous tone filled with conviction as if hedidsee me somewhere.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Where was he hiding you?” Giovanni questions instead, taking a step closer.

Beverly is the one who kept me like a dirty secret, pulling me out to save her daughter from the inevitable trading she was going to suffer.

To be fair, this is a question I was expecting… but not from the likes of this man.

None of them would care about the truth when their interests are on the line.

“He didn’t hide me,” I mutter, but as soon as the lie rolls off my tongue, I feel disgusted with myself. Why am I lying for Beverly and her husband?

But then again, how do I tell a whole stranger that’s giving major ‘run away’ energy, that I was abandoned and set aside for shady dealings such as these?

“Then you wouldn’t mind telling me exactly where you lived, right?” Giovanni smiles again.

My heart leaps in my chest.

That sense of caution starts screaming at me again.

“California,” I spit out.

Giovanni steps even closer, like a beast closing in on the kill.

“Where exactly in California?” he demands, his voice dropping even further. “Who did you live with

My heart beats wildly and out of control.

If I don’t get a grip of myself, I’m going to get a panic attack, which somehow always triggers my asthma attack.

My palms grow damp and clammy. My chest feels tight.

Why am I reacting like this?

“Where in California are you from, little girl?” Giovanni demands, his eyes darkening.

“Westbrook Blues,” I splutter, as if gasping for beath after drowning. “I’m from Westbrook Blues!”

Almost immediately, something flashes in Giovanni’s eyes, darkening his expression even further.

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