Page 19 of Venomous Vows

I bust down then, clamping my palm over my mouth to hide my defeat and mental breakdown.

I have no other choice.

I either live with the idea of my sister’s murder for my father’s sins.

Or I marry Adrian Bernardi.

“Elena, it’s going to be okay,” Zane states confidently on the other side and through my silence. “I’ll be around.”

That really doesn’t matter.

BecauseI’llstill be the one married to his older brother.

“Where is he?” I solicit with a stiffness in my joints that threatens to break me. To make me ache for the rest of my life because this isn’t some fleeting moment between Adrian and me.

It’s always been a war.

And why he’d want anything to do with me is beyond my comprehension.

“Probably sleeping. Do you want to come over tomorrow?—”

“I need to talk to him now because I can’t let any more time go to waste. Can you please shoot me over his number?”

“Sure,” Zane mutters, sounding a bit relieved to not have to continue this conversation. “I’ll do it right now.”

“Thanks, and…I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“It’s no problem. If he doesn’t answer, come over in the morning. He doesn’t leave until ten. And don’t fuckin’ tell him that I told you that.”

Okay…

“Good night, Zane.”

I hang up the phone and promptly receive the phone number from Zane within seconds.

This is the moment when my life is going to change.

I know what I’m doing and what’s going to take place, but I have terms. And I’m hoping Adrian will agree to them so it’ll make my life bearable for the next few years.

However, kids are going to throw a wrench in the mix because I didn’t plan on having any soon.

Especially since I haven’t been in a relationship in over two years.

Hitting the number, my phone pulls it up to make the call, but I hesitate over the button. I’m fully aware that I’m limited on choices—only one—but it still makes it hard.

But I’m doing this for my sister. And I’m stronger than what Adrian thinks.

Bopping the green button, I bring my cell up to my ear and it doesn’t take long for that deep and sleepy tone to ripple through the other side on a sharp, “What?”

Shit.

Adrian is an asshole all day. But I’m still jolted a bit by the sharpness of his tone.

“It’s me.”

“And doesmehave a fuckin’ name?” he raves, sending a wave of goose bumps down my body.

“Adrian,” I sneer through already agitated nerves. “If you’re about to tell me that you have a flock of women callin’ you every night, I’m not about to tell you that I agree to this asinine idea of yours.”

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