Page 28 of Dangerous Vows

“How the hell did you sneak that in here?” I ask.

“I have my ways,” she smiles like a Cheshire cat.

Renalto groans. “I don’t need this right now.”

“Oh, but you do,” she says, taking another sip of her drink—this time with the poise of a silent film star, all elegance and unspoken drama. “Tension before a wedding is classic. But don’t worry, big brother. I’ll be here to make sure you don’t pass out,” she teases as she slugs Renalto’s arm.

“Ouch, damn woman, are you lifting weights?” he whines.

Matteo rolls his eyes. “And you, Miss Switzerland, have been living in paradise while we handle real business.”

She gasps dramatically. “Oh yes, paradise. Where they make you fight in knee-deep snow and learn to lie in six different dialects, you should try it sometime.”

“Sounds like a dream,” I mutter, amused despite myself. I miss her. Italy was boring after she left. It was another reason to come to New York. I figured we’d all wind up here anyway.

Bianca waves a manicured hand. “Anyway, I’m off to check on the bride before she runs for it.” She blows us a kiss before exiting, heading toward the bridal suite.

“It’s too quiet,” I say as I turn to follow.

“What do you mean?” Renalto’s head whips up like a dog who heard a whistle.

“Relax, I’m going to do a sweep. Stay put. We can’t have you involved in any untoward events today.”

He’s not happy, but Matteo nods, and it’s done.

I carefully follow in my sister’s footsteps.

“I know you’re there, brother. You need to get up two days before me to get a jump on me.”

“All in time, lil sis.”

She chuckles as she sets her flute on a table in the hall, carefully opens the door, but pauses unnaturally.

“What is it?”

“Sheesh,” she moves her hand for me to back up.

“What the fuck?” I reply, but I step back, giving her space.

Something is off.

“A woman has a knife to Abigail’s throat. Please use your devastatingly handsome face to distract her. I’ll slip in through the door behind her,” she says, and then she disappears like the wind before I can respond.

I wanted to say I’ll handle it, but my sister is determined to save the day. She’s relentless when inspired, so I push the heavy oak door open and do her bidding.

But I’m not prepared for what I see, Abigail, held captive. The fear in her eyes says everything she can’t because a woman stands behind her, a dagger pressed to her throat. The blade doesn’t pierce, but her skin dimples beneath the pressure stretched into a fragile line between threat and blood.

“Step back,” the woman warns.

“Look, I’m sure we can resolve this peacefully. Let her go.”

“You don’t get it. Renalto loves me,” her angry eyes flash, filled with desperation.

“You need to surrender now or spend your life in prison.” Prison is too good for her. She threatened a Borrelli. There’s only one fitting outcome for her—death.

“It will be okay, Abigail,” I say as my peripheral vision picks up on the door behind her opening. I’ll blow the rescue mission if I don’t play my part.

The woman is dressed in black, and her grip tightens on Abigail’s neck. “She took everything from me. I won’t let her have this, too.”

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