Page 77 of Dangerous Vows

“Your brothers will help.” His eyes flick to the rearview mirror, scanning for tails. “This has to be more than just a warning. Someone might want you out of the picture entirely.”

I grit my teeth. “They can fucking try.”

Another turn, another stretch of road eaten by the speed of the car.

“We need answers,” Joseph mutters, gripping the wheel hard.

And I’m sure Amara has them, but I say, “We’ll get them.”

But my thoughts are tangled, and they circle in my head like wolves on a hunt.

She left. She ran. Did she think I wouldn’t come after her?

Did she think I wouldn’t tear this city apart to find her?

The safe house comes to mind—it’s only one of many Matteo has hidden under shell corporations and fictitious names. It’s isolated and sitting right on the water. That makes it harder to breach, and harder foranyone to sneak up unnoticed. But it also means we’ll be trapped if someone does come. A fortress and a prison, all in one.

None of that matters.

Not until I see her.

Not until I know she’s breathing, and that she’s safe.

And then, she’s going to tell me everything—even if I have to rip it from her sassy lips. Doesn’t she know that I will tear apart the entire city to find her?

PIETRO

BLEED FOR ME BURN FOR ME

Joseph grits his teeth but weaves through traffic and takes turns down obscure roads in the hopes of not being followed. The cityscape has turned to a hellscape of homeless encampments and filth on the street.

We’re nearing her apartment, but not fast enough. My gut twists in knots, and every muscle in my body is pulled so tight I feel like I’ll snap. I’m a live wire and seconds from sparking.

I should have Luca’s head on a spike for fucking this up.

But no one knows better than I do how relentless Amara is once her mind is set. She’s not just decided—she’s committed. Unshakable. Unstoppable.

She got away once.

That won’t happen again.

At the safe house she will be surrounded by guards, she should be safe there, but none of that fucking matters if I don’t get to her in time.

Joseph speaks, cutting the tension. “Does someone want to wipe out the Borrelli line?”

I barely hear him. My mind is only on her.

By the time Joseph rolls to a stop outside Amara’s apartment, I’m already out of the car. My chest tightens, breath sharp, and I take thestairs two at a time. My pulse hammers with a single thought pounding through my skull—something’s happened that can’t be forgiven.

I’m not ready to let her go. I won’t rest until I know she’s okay.

I bang on the door. No answer. I don’t flinch as I throw my shoulder into it, and the door gives way under my weight. The wood splinters as the door crashes open.

I’m in her shitty apartment for the first time—and I don’t say that because I’m an elitist. It’s just that bad. A cramped, dim hovel that pisses me off more than I want to admit. She’s been living like this? Alone? My eyes sweep the shadows... and then I see her.

She’s on the couch—small and defenseless.

I don’t think. I move.

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