Page 65 of Captive Vow (Mafia Marriages 2)

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Paige

I’m awoken in the middle of the night by the click of a lock on the bedroom door.

I’ve always been a light sleeper, and being here is no different. Mostly it’s because I’m always listening for Nova.

The main door to my bedroom squeaks open, so I know it isn’t Nova sneaking into my room.

“Moreno?”

I’m tired with sleep, and my eyes make out his outline as he approaches my bed.

It’s him, but what is he doing coming in here in the middle of the night?

“You owe me the truth,” Moreno says.

Isn’t that what I’ve always done?

“I’d never lie to you.” Well, except about Vance, but he doesn’t know, he couldn’t know.

“That’s a lie,” he says and laughs darkly. The closer he gets to my bed, I smell liquor on his breath.

I sit up, pulling the surrounding sheets. He’d never hurt me. I know that, but I’m not exactly comfortable with this position either. I feel vulnerable and half-dressed while he’s still fully clothed.

“You’re drunk.” It isn’t intended as an accusation, but it does come out that way.

“It’s hard not to be when the nanny steals my dead wife’s wedding ring and wears it.”

Guilt sweeps over me. I want to apologize, but how can I do that without letting him know that Nova was the one who took the ring?

She’s been through so much, and I don’t want to make things more difficult for her.

“You got the ring back,” I say with as much conviction as I can muster. “Why does it bother you that I borrowed it?”

He laughs darkly and leans closer, sneering at me.

“Borrowed? You were wearing it! Are you trying to play house? Pretend to marry the mafia prince and live happily ever after.”

“Mafia prince?” What the hell is he talking about? Has he lost his mind?

Wait.

Does that mean he works for the mafia?

I thought Nikki was ex-mafia, but that whatever empire they ran was legitimate and legal.

Shit.

What did I get myself involved in?

“Dante’s the Don. Which makes him the king and Nikki, the queen. I’m the underboss, so I guess that makes me the prince.” His brow furrows as he speaks like he realizes he may be saying too much.

I shift on the mattress, scooting back to get away from him.

Safety is my priority.

Being in this house, I no longer feel safe, especially from him.

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