Page 71 of Stolen Vows
I sigh and roll my eyes at the nickname.
“Do you think he ruined the secondary trigger or is it still viable?”he asks in code.
Just because we seem anonymous in the crowd doesn’t mean we’re safe, so we use code.The trigger is an opportunity Pietro can’t resist.He’s a man on the run, but even a man with no resources and powerful enemies—because without his daughter to smooth things over, everyone sees how much of a snake he is—can be dangerous if they’re desperate enough.
Hence the bullet hole in my shoulder.
From my experience, I know it isn’t serious.Blood oozes down the inside of my sleeve instead of gushing, and the burn indicates the bullet passed through soft tissue without lodging against bone.A thorough sterilization and dressing at home will be enough.
“It doesn’t matter.I want him in a warehouse before the end of tomorrow, no matter what it takes,” I demand.
“It’ll be my pleasure, boss,” he says.
With a mock salute, he steps onto the crosswalk and continues on his way as though we didn’t just survive an attempt to take our lives.
I wander the streets for a while to shake any potential tails before paying cash for a taxi to drop me off a few blocks from the townhouse.With the sky dark and the roads relatively empty after rush hour, the nightlife begins to stir.
I roll my shoulders back, grunting from the pain, and turn down the sidewalk toward home as I’ve done dozens of times.Eric leans forward in his seat when he recognizes me.Not even halfway down the block, I reward his vigilance with a nod.He sits back and reaches for the panel on his door.
The passenger window rolls down.
I prop my elbow on the top of his car.
“Got a smoke?”I ask.
An older man with a potbelly and sour expression with a dog that’s no more than a glorified rat on a leash lumbers by.It’s an odd combination, but after living in New York City for so many years, I don’t question it anymore.
I take a cigarette from Eric but lean back when he reaches for his lighter.
“Nothing’s changed, except you’re back early,” he says.His bald head shines in the light from the streetlamps.
“Yeah, things went sideways.Stay until Gustavo comes to relieve you,” I say.
“Got it, boss,” he says.
Fuck.Noah has everyone calling me boss now.
I toss the cigarette back at him as though he pissed me off and saunter away.When everything seems normal on the street, I turn toward the townhouse and take the stairs with measured steps.
I unlock and push open the door.
An unfamiliar voice comes from the kitchen.I catch the front door and ease it closed.Valentina curses.
I rush forward, pulling out my pistol, and stalk into the kitchen on silent feet.
Valentina sees me from the corner of her eye, screams in alarm, and spills what she has on the stove.The burner gives an angry flare as she jumps back.
She’s the only one in the kitchen.With panic etched on her features, she reaches out and turns off the burner before lunging for her phone.
The phone I gave her not long ago.
I snatch it off the counter before her fingers wrap around it and check the screen.A woman wearing a red apron and standing in front of the stove in a farmhouse style kitchen speaks in the most Southern accent I’ve ever heard.
“What are you doing?You’re supposed to be resting,” I snarl despite the relief flowing through me.
She yanks the phone away from me, turns off the screen, and tosses it on the counter.
A red patch on the back of her hand catches my attention.I grab her wrist.
