Page 57 of Before Broken Vows
"We'll talk more in the morning," I say as I walk out.
Dimitri just looks at me, knowing I'm probably bullshitting him, but the truth is I'll have to come clean soon. To everyone. And not just about my son, but our dad and what he did.
I shake my head. I don't want to think about that now. As I walk out into the living area, I stop and look down the hallway to Stassi's room. Part of me—maybe all of me—wants to walk down that hall and finish what we started, continue on from right before my brother interrupted us. But I know if I walk down that hall and back to her, I'll never leave. And I either can't, or I'm just not ready to.
But she's the mother of my child. The first and only woman I've ever loved. The first woman who, when I closed my eyes, I still saw her face—soft and radiant.
But do I deserve it? Deserve love? If my father had his way, it seems I would have eventually married Sean Killaney's fieryredheaded daughter. She's beautiful, sure, but she's no Stassi—not in my eyes, anyhow.
I sigh and turn to head to my room.
So many questions, so few answers, and on top of everything, there's the letter Ares found on Dad. The one only he and I know about.
The sons will follow the father.
So while someone is threatening to take my son, I'm also being hunted.
If there's a God, hopefully I won't die before I get to meet him.
I'm not one for praying, but maybe I should start.
19
THEO
Ishift in the driver's seat, my tailbone aching from staying still too long. It's been four days since Stassi promised to set up our meeting with our son. Four days of watching her make arrangements without accepting a single suggestion from me.
"It's safer this way," she'd said, tapping away at her laptop, a burner phone beside her. "Commercial flight, normal accommodations. Drawing less attention."
As if the Kastaris name doesn't already draw attention. As if I don't have connections across every major city in Europe that could have kept us invisible while keeping us comfortable. But no—we're flying commercial. Staying at some random Airbnb even though I specifically told her the Bonventi family would give us one of their places to use, with full security.
"Normal people don't stay in fortresses," she'd said. "Normal people blend in."
I should have pushed harder, but part of me—the part that's still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I have a son—didn't want to risk her backing out.
"Hey, is that him?" Dimitri asks, bringing me back to the present. He nods toward a man exiting the restaurant.
I study the man's face, searching for the distinctive marks we're looking for. "No."
"Shit, how many people are in this damn place?" Dimitri mutters, slouching lower in the passenger seat.
"Don't worry," I say, though my patience is wearing thin. "He'll come out."
It's funny how easily The Hawk fell into our lap once we knew who we were looking for. He seems to do business with many people. On behalf of who is what I'm most interested in.
"You sure your guy is reliable on this?" Dimitri asks, checking his watch.
"As reliable as anyone who'll flip for money," I answer. "If he says the guy always eats here on Thursday nights between eight and ten, then he'll be here."
Dimitri nods. "Sure hope so."
Me too, and we're ready. We've got a team of six spread out. Dio in a van half a block down, two men at the bar across the street, another two covering the back exit. All watching for a man with three claw-like scars down his right cheek.
"Tell me again why we're not just grabbing him at his apartment?" Dimitri asks. "We know where he lives."
"Because rushing the lawyer got us a corpse with a bullet in his head," I remind him. "This needs to be cleaner. Public place, more witnesses, less likely he'll off himself."
"Or more likely he's got a dead man's switch that sends incriminating shit to the authorities if he doesn't check in," Dimitri counters.
