Page 107 of Savage Vows
“What are you doing, Alex?” I say, my heart sinking.
“Moe, look carefully,” he says, recorder light blinking red. “Which man hurt you? Just point, and we can make sure he never hurts anyone again.”
“Alex,” I plead.
He finally turns to me. “You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment, Adriana. Luka couldn’t have pulled it off on his own, you said so yourself.”
“Alex, this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.”
There’s a thud, and my gaze returns to Moe, who’s observing the pictures blankly. But Alex has her attention now.
Her gaze flits along the faces. My pulse thuds in my ears. She hovers over Luka’s photo, but her hand drifts on. She pauses at another unfamiliar face, then keeps going. When her fingers reach the out-of-focus image of Dante, she stops. Tears brim in her eyes. She slaps her palm down on the photo and lets out a raw, broken cry that slices the quiet garden wide open.
My stomach lurches the instant Moe cries out, and I stumble away from the table, past the nurse hurrying in, and push through a gap in the hedges. The sudden scent of cut grass and damp earth makes the nausea worse. I bend over and retch into the greenery, shaking so hard my knees nearly buckle.
Footsteps crunch behind me. Alex’s voice follows, cold and impatient. “Don’t be weak, Adriana. We’re close.”
I wipe my mouth, spin around. “Close to what? Destroying lives for a headline?”
He sneers. “Whose lives are we talking about? These aren’t innocent men.”
“We were here to ask about Luka,” I insist. Only now I hear the quaver in my voice, the sudden fear of where this is heading.
Alex turns to me, frustration showing. “All the disappearances follow the same pattern. Someone is trafficking these girls. We need proof it’s one of the bosses. If she can identify him, this ends right here.”
So that’s it. I stand, heart pounding. “You’re chasing a headline.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Adriana. Men like this ruin lives. If we can link the cases, they go to prison for good. I think I know why you’re upset. That’s your husband she pointed at. A little too close to home, perhaps?”
I stare past him, vision blurring. Tears fill my eyes before I can blink them away. “It can’t be,” I whisper, shaking my head. “You saw what Moe’s been through. She’s scared. She could be confused.”
“Or she could be right. You have to face the possibility, Adriana. If Dante Volkov is involved, the sooner we know, the sooner we stop this.”
I press my palm to my mouth, fighting a sob. The world tilts, the garden spinning around me. Moe’s scream echoes in my ears, Dante’s face following me like a ghost. I want to run, to hide, to crawl back to the moment before that photo hit the table. Instead, I feel the truth closing in, cold and relentless.
“It can’t be,” I say again, more to myself than to Alex. But the doubt is already there, heavy as lead.
It hurts to even think it, but the possibility sinks its claws in deep.
What if Moe is right?
What if Dante—my Dante—is part of this nightmare?
I’ve left Julianne alone with him. Guilt squeezes around my throat. I picture her back at the penthouse, trusting him, depending on him, and my stomach flips. If any of this is true, I’ve delivered her straight into danger.
There’s only one person who knows this world and still might listen to me—Maksim. My fingers tremble as I scroll to his number and hit call.
He answers on the second ring, voice brisk. “Adriana?”
“I need help,” I say, the words rushing out in a whisper. “Something’s happened. I can’t explain over the phone, but it’s serious.”
A pause, then a low sigh. “Where are you?”
“Parkside Clinic, back garden. Brooklyn.”
“I’m on my way,” he says without hesitation. “Fifteen minutes. Don’t move.”
32
