Page 5 of Lethal Vows

“No. Though, an old friend is going to be visiting. I haven’t seen her since I was sixteen.” I smile. After all these years, I’m excited to see Angel, but I can’t help a sliver of guilt for not returning home for over fourteen years. “I’ll go back eventually and visit them. It’s just that once I’d finished college and started working, I haven’t stopped,” I tell her, but she already knows the facts.

“And they can always visit you,” she replies, turning around expectantly for me to zip up her dress. “Now, let’s walk out into that room that’s already filled with people who love you and let loose. You promised me tonight you’ll get freaky.” She says ‘freaky’ with a little side shuffle in what I think is supposed to be a dance.

And I know there’ll be no getting out of it. I came straight from the office and quickly changed in the back room of the hotel where my birthday party is starting. And I know Monica will be dragging me to God knows what clubs.

I slip on my black heels and give myself a once-over in the small mirror. I don’t know if I was meant to look any different at thirty, but I look fucking hot. I can’t remember the last time I had a night out, but tonight feels likethe night. I might even pick up a man. It’s been a while, and I certainly have an itch to scratch.

I follow Monica through the door, and shouts immediately erupt when people start to sing “Happy Birthday.” I recognize most people straight away from work. I awkwardly receive hugs and kisses on the cheek as I walk through the crowded room. Monica’s already ahead of me, beelining for the bottles of champagne and giving me that much-needed elixir so I feel less awkward under this type of spotlight. I’ve never been much for celebrating birthdays, but you know, thirty and all, so I don’t have a lot of choice.

I begin a light discussion with one of my colleagues on our recent case.

“I just don’t know how you do it,” one of the interns says, absolutely baffled.

“It’s because she’s one of the best,” my boss says, intruding on our conversation. I’ve been working for him since graduating college.

I take a small sip of my champagne. “The stats from the last four years would clarify Iamthe best at our firm.”

“A lawyer?” someone asks from behind me. I hear the heavy accent before I turn around, and I'm stunned when I see the speaker. My feet don’t want to move, and the white noise around me disappears.

He’s here.

My heart skips a beat.

Holy shit, he’s actually here.

I didn’t think Crue would hold to his words from so long ago. In truth, I had completely forgotten about it until right now. Surely, he’s not here for that. But here he stands, looking better than ever. The once clean-skinned man now has ink peeking out from his black collar and up his neck, with such confidence it makes you want to look away. But I’ve been dealing with powerful men all my life, and I’ve become unyielding even to someone like him.

Is he here forthatreason?

Why else would he be here?

I’m so confused, yet with an audience around us, I’m quick to dismiss any further attention. But, damn, it’s hard when Crue looks likethat.Almost every woman is looking in our direction now.

“Crue,” I say, smiling. His dark eyes fall to my lips at the sound of his name coming from them.

“Princess,” he replies, but it’s flat as if he’s forced to be here.

Which confuses me even more.

“I don’t know what to say,” I tell him, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear while the other hand clutches my glass a little too hard.

“Happy birthday,” he says. “I don’t exactly do apologies, so I’m not going to bother with what I’m about to do.”

My fake smile falters.

About to do?What does he mean?

And then I understand when he reaches into his jacket, and I see the glint of the gun before he even grasps it.

It all happens in slow motion.

I’m unsure what to do, but my body seems frozen.

I moved away from Italy all those years ago to remove myself from the violence that surrounded me.

And yet, after all these years, here it is. Standing in front of me.

Is he about to kill me?

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