Page 52 of The Mafia's Broken Vows

My blood turns to ice even as my rage simmers.

This is—could be Dante’s club.

Kira knowingly brought me here.

Dante could show up at any point because Kira may have told him I’m pregnant with his baby.

My heart races, pounding against my ribcage like a trapped bird desperate to escape. The room spins, the flashing lights and pulsing music blurring into a dizzying mix. Here I am, already drowning in the bog of my family drama, yet the universe decides my life still isn’t complicated enough.

Zedd must sense my discomfort because he places a reassuring hand on my arm. “Are you alright, Addy?”

Fighting to keep my expression neutral, I force a smile and say, “Zedd, I need to leave.”

“What? Now?”

“Yep.” I jump off my stool as panic claws at my throat. I need space to breathe, to think. I can practically feel Dante’s presence, a phantom heat radiating through the crowd.

Zedd catches my arm, holding me in place. “Whoa, hold up, Addy.” His words are playful, but his grip tightens. “Look, I didn’t mean to scare you. I promise you’re safe here. No one will hurt you. Actually, no one can. You’re Kira’s friend.”

Kira is a lot of things right now, but my friend isn’t one of them. I yank my arm free, stumbling back a step. “I just remembered something I have to do back in Boston.” My excuse is beyond lame. I really need to be a better liar.

Like Kira, and Benjamin O’Shea, I think, anger surging through me, hot and bitter.

“What? Are you serious?” Zedd moves to block my path, his brow furrowed. “You can’t just bail on Kira’s big night. You drove her here!”

“I’m sure she’ll have no shortage of mafia men to ferry her wherever she needs to go,” I spit.

All those years, and all through the fourteen-hour trip here, she could have mentioned that she knew Dante. That Dante is her god-brother or whatever they are to each other.

I can only conclude that she wanted me here for her big night, not even caring that it would put me in an awkward position, especially being pregnant with the man’s baby.

Zedd places a hand on my shoulder. “Look, I’m not stupid. I get that she didn’t tell you any of this. She doesn’t tell anyone. She still deeply regrets spilling the beans to me. As much as she is grateful for that family, she wants to live a normal life, and to be able to do that, no one can know that she’s linked to them.”

“I’m not no one. I am—was her best friend, Zedd.”

His voice softens, his eyes searching mine. “Talk to her. Work it out. I’ll get her for you right now if you want.”

I hesitate, torn between the urge to flee and the realization that Zedd might be right. Leaving won’t help, except to hurt Kira. And while I would derive perverse joy in hurting her back, I really don’t want to.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Zedd, I can’t pull her in the middle of a gig so we can have a chat.”

“Are you going to wait till the end of the night?”

I grab my purse. “Hell no.”

He sighs, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. “Then I’m not going to be the reason her best friend abandoned her in a club on her big night. Wait, I’ll get her for you and take over from her. I’m sure the crowd won’t mind.”

I sigh in defeat. “Okay, hurry. I can’t . . . I shouldn’t be here right now.”

Zedd nods, squeezing my shoulder before approaching the DJ booth. I watch as he reaches Kira, leaning in to whisper something in her ear. She glances in a random direction, unable to locate where exactly I am, and my heart squeezes tight.

I’m so angry with her but still in awe of her at the same time. I often forget she can’t see.

Just then, a movement to my left catches my eye, and I turn to see a stunning woman in a slinky gold dress. She’s tall and slender, with sleek dark hair and a figure that could make a nun swear. Her lips are curved in a cool, predatory smile, but her dark brown eyes are like ice chips, sending a bolt of unease through me. She perches on the barstool to my left.

I smile in greeting, and in response, she stares pointedly at my hair, scoffs, then rolls her eyes and turns away.

Fresh out of patience for catty nonsense, I snark. “Is there a problem?”

---