Page 106 of Bloody Vows
But tonight?
Tonight is ours.
28
SIMONE
Iwake up in Tristan's arms as the morning sun filters through the curtains, and for a moment, I forget everything that happened yesterday. I'm just a woman waking up next to the man she loves, warm and safe and content.
Then I remember the abandoned house, the handcuffs, the doctor, and my hand instinctively moves to my stomach. But there's no pain, no cramping, no sign that anything is wrong. The baby is safe. We're both safe.
"How are you feeling?" Tristan asks, his voice rough with sleep. He's already awake, watching me with those green eyes that I didn’t realize how much I’d missed until I thought I’d never see them again.
"Better. Sore, but better." I turn in his arms to face him properly. "How long have you been awake?"
"A while. I couldn't sleep."
"Bad dreams?"
He doesn’t say anything at first, only presses a kiss to my forehead. “It could have gone wrong. So very wrong.”
I reach up to touch his face, feeling the stubble on his cheek rough against my palm. "But it didn't. We're here. We're together. We're safe."
Tristan nods. “We are.”
“What about Sal?” I broach the question carefully, seeing his eyes darken when I say the man’s name.
Tristan’s jaw tightens. "Damian has been questioning him. We need to find out if he had other allies, other plans, anyone else who might come after us." He lets out a sharp breath. “I wanted to do it myself, but right now…” he presses another kiss to my temple. “Right now I’d rather be here than spilling blood, even if it’s his.”
"And after that?" My stomach twists.
"After that, he dies."
The certainty in his voice should disturb me, but it doesn't. If anything, it makes me feel safer. Sal Envio tried to hurt me, tried to kill my child. He deserves whatever's coming to him.
"I want to see him," I say quickly, before I can second-guess myself.
Tristan's eyes widen. "What?"
I take a deep breath. "I want to see Sal. I want to talk to him."
"Absolutely not." Tristan shakes his head. “No.”
"Tristan—"
"No." He sits up, running a hand through his hair. "You're not going anywhere near that bastard. You've been through enough."
"That's not your decision to make." I can feel anger starting to burn in the pit of my stomach. Tristan said he’d rather fight with me than be without me, so we might as well put that to the test.
A muscle twitches in Tristan’s cheek. "Like hell it isn't. I'm your husband, and I'm not going to let you put yourself in danger again."
I sit up too, pulling the sheet around myself. "He's captured. He's restrained. Probably half-dead after Damian has been at him. How is that dangerous?"
"He's a psychopath who spent yesterday trying to kill our child. Being in the same room with him is dangerous." Tristan’s voice is hard, sharp-edged. “Simone?—”
"I'm not some delicate flower who needs to be protected from harsh realities, Tristan. I'm a mafia heiress. This is my world too." I swallow hard, tilting my chin up.
"That doesn't mean you need to?—"
