Page 105 of Savage Vows
“I put a detail out on the guy. Luka’s got priors—minor stuff, but the timelines don’t match. There’s no way he could have taken Samie. His alibi checks out for that night, and for one of the other girls too. I double-checked.”
I nod, scribbling his words in the corner of my notebook.
“I’m trying to get my resources to pull the security footage from Portello,” Alex continues, “but most of it’s corrupted, at least that’s what they’re telling me.”
“They told me the same thing,” I say, sighing. “There’s barely anything left that’s usable. It feels like someone’s cleaning up after themselves.”
Alex pauses, thoughtful. “Do you think Luka was working with someone? Because he’s definitely not the mastermind. There’s no record of him interacting with half the people involved. He’s got alibis for two of the other missing girls, even though their cases match the same profile.”
He adds, “They picked him up leaving the bus station last night. He had a fake passport and a suitcase full of cash. Looked like he was ready to disappear for good. Your tip did good, Adriana, we have him pinned.”
“Has he said anything in custody?” I ask, hope flickering that there’s still a way to break the case open.
“No. Nothing. He’s completely shut down. Won’t talk to anyone—not even a lawyer.”
I chew my lip, remembering the name Mik gave me at the club. “There’s something else. There was a girl who survived—barely. Mik mentioned her. Moe. I want to find her. I think she could have seen something, or know something about what’s really happening. Can you help me track her down?”
Alex hesitates for only a moment. “Send me what you have. I’ll make a few calls and see what comes up.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s good, whatever you did,” Alex says. “Your tip led us to Luka, and I’m sure it’ll lead us to the real killer. Now leave everything else to me.”
“I want to be helpful,” I say.
“I’m not sure your husband would be excited about that.”
I suck in a breath. “You know?”
“What?” He chuckles. “That you’re the wife of the second most dangerous man in New York?”
“Who’s the first?” I ask.
“That’s not important,” he says, and I can almost see him shaking his head. “How did you even get yourself into this mess?”
“Trust me, the irony isn’t lost on me.” I sigh. “But things between us are almost over.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” he says. “But it’s good you got out of that world. If you need some help, let me know.”
“I might take you up on that offer sooner than later.”
The call disconnects and I stare down at my hands.
It’s been almost two months since I left Chicago. The thought hits me as I stare out Bella’s mother’s kitchen window, watching the sun rise over the quiet street. I haven’t paid my rent in weeks. Last month’s check never even went out. I’m sure my landlord isn’t thrilled, probably already threatening to change the locks or toss my things in the hallway.
I weigh my options, thinking about what it would mean to go back. Could I slip into my old life, the tiny apartment, the stacks of research, the comfort of being anonymous? Or has everything changed too much for that to ever feel like home again?
Bella comes back into the kitchen, a plate in hand, nudging it toward me. “Come on, try to have something. You haven’t eaten all day.”
I shake my head, managing a weak smile. “I’m not sure I can. I just feel…nauseous.”
Bella sits down across from me, worry in her eyes. “Has Dante tried reaching out to you? Maybe by text?”
I sigh, staring down at the coffee I haven’t touched. “I don’t know. I switched off my phone when I got here. I just…I couldn’t handle it. Not yet.”
She tries to lighten the mood, giving me a teasing look. “I’m sure Dante won’t be thrilled if he finds out you ran away with the Volkov heir. Might bruise that mafia ego of his.”
I try to smile, but the joke hits too close. My stomach twists with worry, and a flicker of fear runs through me. I can’t help but think about my sister. Is Julianne still at the apartment? Did she slip into my old room, settle into my life as if she belonged there more than I ever did? I wonder if that’s what Dante wanted all along—a Petrova wife, but not necessarily me. Maybe it’s easier for him if I stay gone. Easier if I just disappear.
