Page 39 of Dangerous Vows

Morretti?

How can she be a Moretti?

“Obviously, I didn’t know,” I murmur, but his pensive look concerns me.

“What do I do now?”

“I say you string her along. Find out what she’s up to. She may be spying on us. She’s changed her name, but it was easy to find. She didn’t hire a professional. Otherwise, it would have been hidden better, and her age would have been changed. Whoever is looking for her won’t have difficulty finding her—if that was what she wanted to gain from it, anyway.”

It makes sense. Anyone wanting to disappear from the mafia has to burn their past and take a new identity completely opposite to their own.

“We both know it costs hundreds of thousands of dollars,” I say. “However, I doubt she’s spying on us. It just doesn’t track. She wouldn’t have known we’d be at that club for the bachelor party. Even if she knew who I was, I’m not that green.

Something else is going on with her. “I don’t think she’s a mole.” Matteo sends me a guarded look, and his eyebrows lift. “But it’s our family and we can’t take chances,” I add.

“Exactly,” he replies as if he anticipated I’d come around to his point of view on the situation.

“My gut instincts tell me she’s been abused. But she hasn’t verbalized anything.”

“Her father is Stefano, and since the family is involved in human trafficking with Petrovic, it’s not unreasonable to make the leap that her father might be abusive to women.” Matteo straightens in the doorway, adding, “It’s just a thought.”

“No, it makes sense. And Petrovic may want the Moretti’s to make amends for the money he lost with the shitshow that went down over Trey. What if he wants something from Stefano that’s not his to give?”

“Like what?”

“I’m not sure. Money, a territory? Maybe a piece of our territory. The Morettis are notorious for trying to take what’s ours.”

“True.” Matteo straightens. “Well, I have to go,” he says as he pushes off the doorframe, “Keep your friends close…”

“And your enemies closer,” I finish the sentence for him.

“I don’t think you’ll have a difficult time keeping her close. I have men on her. We’ll know more soon.”

I want to say it’s not necessary, but I can’t show weakness. We’re in a dark world, and everyone wants something. What does Amara want from me? Is it impossible to think that she likes me for me and that there’s no ulterior motive?

Women always want something from me, and that’s what has me confused. Amara isn’t like other women. She’s not walking around inthousand-dollar dresses with fake nails, weaved eyebrows, and Botoxed lips. Those things cost money.

Her clothing is minimal. I’ve noticed her recycling the same outfits. The only thing she wore that cost money was the red-bottom shoes she wore the night we met.

The fact that she ate all her breakfast tells me she either liked the food or it was a splurge for her, and she doesn’t need a diet. She’s too thin. What are you hiding, Amara?

Maybe Amara likes the finer things in life, but doesn’t have money. Why would that occur? Is Daddy punishing her? Did he cut her off? Or does he want something she’s not willing to give?

The night continues, and I can’t stop staring at Amara as she works. She has a bachelor’s party in a VIP room, and they are getting loud. I see a stripper heading that way, and I run interference, calling Amara aside on a bogus errand to check the champagne so I can let the stripper slip by undetected.

The night is already halfway to hell when Amara finds me in the VIP lounge, eyes blazing, shoulders squared like she’s ready to go twelve rounds.

I lean against the bar, swirling the last of my drink, pretending not to notice how her hands are clenched into fists at her sides. “Something on your mind, Princess?”

Her laugh is sharp, humorless. “Don’t call me that, and you’re really going to act like you don’t know?”

I take my time setting my water glass down as I look her over. She’s furious, but beneath it, there’s something else. Betrayal.

“I’m gonna need a little more to go on,” I say lazily. “You get mad at me at least three times a night, so you’re gonna have to be more specific.”

She steps closer, tilting her head. “Okay, let me spell it out for you, boss. You had me track down a ridiculously expensive case of champagne, kept me talking, and you had me try the champagne to test it just so you could let a pack of strippers into the VIP room for that bachelor party.”

Ah.

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