Page 49 of Hateful Vows
“Do you wish it was you, pretty boy?” Dante’s sinful voice whispers in my ear.
Here in the dark, with no one else to see, I allow my mind to replace the two people on the dais with the two people I want more than my next breath.
When I turn, Dante’s so close to me our breaths mingle, making my head hazy with lust.
“Would you take it as well,malysh?” I mean it as a taunt but his smile is blinding, like I walked right into the trap he just set for me.
“I could show you now, pretty boy.”
Our eyes lock. I make the mistake of dropping mine to his lips, full and waiting. They must taste like her. His tongue darts out to lick the lower lip and I immediately regret coming here.
This was a mistake.
Grunts and low masculine moans come up to a crescendo before the crowd applaud and lights flicker back to life, though more dim than before, throwing shadows of sex and debauchery on the walls.
“Let’s get this over with,” I push past Dante who presses his lips together like he wants to laugh. The need to kill him sings in my blood. Before I can punch his ridiculous face, Andrea opens a door and guides us towards a soundproof room looking like an office.
“Alright, let’s make this quick, I’d like to fuck my wife until we both can’t walk before the night is through, and you fuckers are in the way of that,” he says and Irina rolls her eyes while Dante fucking winks at the man. “I’ve traced the messages on the phone you found.”
“And?” Irina asks impatiently, arms crossed over her chest, like this is all a bore to her and should have been an email.
“It conveniently leads to the Irish.”
Dante bristles and he exchanges a look with my step-sister. Everything between them makes me realise how miscalculated my decision to call him for help was. Now they share special looks that speak of silent words. I’m not privy to the information and the murderous red haze that takes over my brain threatens to send me to my knees.
“Tell us what you know, Dante,” I order through gritted teeth.
“Irina found out that one of my men has been travelling to Ireland a lot in the past three years.”
“I’d be careful with making assumptions, if I were you,” Giulia quips. “The information was hard to uncover but not that hard if you knew where to look. We hired Toma Kovac and he’s proven to be a talented addition to our team. Even he said this looks suspicious and we agree.”
“So you think this is a set up?” Dante asks, and it’s Andrea who answers him this time.
“I’m not sure who is behind your father’s murder, Dante, but the Irish have kept to themselves for decades. It’s not impossible, but I’d look elsewhere, too.”
“The only other real enemy we have is Petrov,” I say. “And he’s a problem for everyone, not only Ventura’s family.”
“We’re all invested in seeing the bastard burn, so I’ll keep my eyes and ears out.”
We nod and shake hands in thanks.
“Before you go,” Giulia interrupts our exit. “Don’t forget your masks. Pity your wife couldn’t join, Aleksei.”
She winks, then hands each of us an intricate half mask of black silk and golden details. I ignore the mafia spy, who somehow seems to know more than I want her to.
The masks are ornate and as beautiful as the pricy pieces one would see at the Venice carnival. I have no intention of staying, but I put it on and walk to the bar. I need to drown in whiskey before the end of the night to forget that Dante almost made me come in my pants with his voice and that someone wants to kill him. Andthat someoneisn’t me.
When I whirl around, glass in hand, my eyes immediately fall to Dante and Irina. They look gorgeous together. Him in a light blue suit with a dark shirt underneath, open just enough to see the cross at his neck. Her in one of the silky dresses she favours. The silver colour suits her pale skin, highlighting her long hair. Except it’s a lot shorter than what I’m used to seeing her in, revealing long toned legs perched on pearlescent high heels. It makes her ass look pert and perfect to sink my teeth into. I slap my free hand on the bar, disgruntling the patrons next to me who scurry away.
Fucking hell.I need to take control of myself again. I need to leave.
I’m about to waddle my way out when Dante says something into Irina’s ear. He takes her hand and guides her into a dark corridor, but not before throwing a look behind his shoulder. Like he’s beckoning me to follow.
I throw my whiskey back and descend the stairs. Everywhere I look, people are fucking openly, with their masks on. When I’m at the entrance hall, a hostess asks me for my locker number. We left our phones in one of these lockers when we arrived. I take the chip from my pocket. Her hand extends toward me.
“Sir?”
The chip is small in my hands and made of plastic. Weightless. Yet, it’s heavy on my mind.
