Page 101 of Savage Vows
“I really think we should take her to a doctor,” I say quietly, worry knotting in my stomach.
“She’ll be fine here,” he replies, voice rough, not looking at me. “Let her rest. She doesn’t need the hospital right now.”
I nod, but the words sting, and a guilty, helpless feeling sweeps over me. I want to argue, but I know it won’t change his mind.
I close the bathroom door behind me, feeling the hush settle over everything. My hands tremble as I unwrap the test and set it on the edge of the sink, counting each second as the result develops.
Two faint pink lines.
I blink, barely believing it. Instead of fear, relief and—strangely—real happiness fills my chest. It’s not what I expected, but it’s what I want. This could be the beginning of something new between me and Dante. Maybe the start of trust, or even love. Maybe everything will finally change for the better.
I gather myself and tuck my phone into my pocket, making a mental note to text Alex the details—everything I’ve uncovered, the footage from Portello that finally links Luka, all the facts I’ve pieced together. For once, the story feels manageable. My sister is safe.
I am okay.
I want to tell Dante. The urge is so strong it feels like I might burst. But when I step into the hall, the apartment is quiet. I call his name softly, but there’s no answer. I wander through the rooms, trying to calm my nerves, feeling strangely light and hopeful.
The guest bedroom door is open just a little. I step closer and peek in.
Dante is there, sitting on the edge of Julianne’s bed. He’s holding a bowl of soup, patiently feeding her one careful spoonful at atime, his voice quiet and steady as he checks the temperature and encourages her to eat. Julianne looks tired, but she smiles at him, and her hand rests in his with a kind of trust I haven’t seen in years.
I watch them for a moment, feeling so many things at once—relief that my sister is safe, gratitude for what Dante has done, and a deep, unexpected ache low in my chest. I wish it were me he was looking at like that, me he was caring for with such gentle patience. I want to walk in, to announce my news, to feel certain I belong beside him.
But I don’t move. I linger in the hallway, emotions swirling—hope, jealousy, pride, longing. I wonder if this is how it always will be. The people I love just out of reach, my happiness tangled up with doubts I can’t quite silence. I press a hand to my stomach and remind myself there’s a new life growing inside me, a reason to hope, even if everything feels uncertain right now.
I hover in the doorway a moment longer, watching as Dante carefully sets the empty bowl aside and checks the covers around Julianne. She thanks him, her voice small, and he gives her a nod, gentle but distant. When he stands and turns, he sees me watching.
His eyes meet mine for only a second before he looks away, brushing past me in the hallway without a word or a glance. I stand there, confused, expecting him to stop, to say something, but he just walks away, his shoulders tense, face unreadable.
I follow him into the kitchen, the words “I need to tell you something” burning on my tongue, but he doesn’t give me the chance. He busies himself at the sink, rinsing the bowl, barely acknowledging I’m even in the room.
“Dante?” I try, keeping my voice steady.
He glances at me, but the warmth I’ve come to crave is gone, replaced by a coolness that makes me shrink back. “What?” he asks, too quickly.
I falter. “Nothing. I just…wanted to say thank you. For what you did for Julianne.”
He shrugs, his jaw set. “Anyone would’ve done the same.”
I swallow, a pit opening in my stomach. Wasn’t he just holding her hand, looking at her like she was the only person in the room? Did something change because Julianne showed up? Does he want her now? Am I just the stand-in, the woman he settled for?
The questions chase each other through my mind, and I can’t stop the doubts from creeping in. I press a hand to my stomach, holding on to the only certainty I have, wishing that he’d look at me the way he looked at Julianne a moment ago. That he’d reach for me, even if I can’t find the words yet for what’s really changed.
I crawl into bed, pulling the blankets over my head, trying to smother the ache inside me. My pillow is cold and damp by the time I finally drift off, silent tears soaking the sheets. I don’t hear Dante come in. I wonder where he is, if he’s even coming back, if he’s somewhere with Julianne instead. His words replay in my mind:I can never love you. I should have believed him. I curl up smaller, wishing the ache away.
When I finally do sleep, it’s shallow and uneasy. I wake to the sound of fists pounding against the front door, making my heart lurch.
For a moment I’m disoriented, blinking against the gray morning light. I grab a robe and hurry out of the bedroom, fear curling tight in my chest.
When I open the door, I see Dante and Oleg already out in the hallway. They stand shoulder to shoulder, tense, blocking the entrance to the apartment. My father stands opposite them, flanked by two of his men—both silent, watching everything with hard, watchful eyes.
Dante doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. He lifts his gun, steady, eyes hard as he stares down my father. “I won’t hesitate to kill you,” he says, voice low and deadly. “Not if you try to take her by force.”
My father’s jaw clenches, nostrils flaring. “You dare threaten to spill Petrov blood? The city will bay for your blood, Volkov. You’ll start a war you can’t finish.”
Dante just cocks the gun, the sound echoing in the hallway. “Want to find out?” His voice doesn’t shake. He means every word.
Oleg shifts, ready to back him up. Julianne buries her face in my shoulder, sobbing quietly, while I stand frozen.
