Page 65 of The Mafia's Broken Vows

I nod, relief mingling with the cocktail of emotions swirling in my gut. Then I ask the one question I’ve been dying to know, the one that’s been burning in the back of my mind since I sent her away. “How’s she?”

Sal clears his throat, his eyes meeting mine. “Red Wine? Not good. She’s asking for you.”

I tense, my grip tightening on the glass. The crystal edges dig into my palm, grounding me. She doesn’t know what she’s asking for. I’m dying to see her, to touch her and feel with my own hands that she’s okay, but I’m feeling too raw right now.

I need to be in control with her, but right now, I’m barely holding it together.

“Not tonight, Sal,” I say, but even I can hear the lack of conviction in my voice.

“Sure.” He scoffs as if he knows that my resistance is currently in a watery puddle at my feet. “With or without the blast, the moment you saw her tonight, there was only one way it was going to end.”

I force a smirk, trying to deflect. “You know, for a virgin, you seem to have a lot of insight into these matters. Did you finally get the birds and bees talk?”

“Maybe,” he says with a secret smile that tells me I’m better off not knowing more. The corner of his mouth twitches, and then he changes the subject, his tone turning serious. “When do you need me tomorrow?”

I take a deep breath, the scent of whiskey and smoke filling my lungs again. “Be at the Fortress with the rest of the Caporegimes for an emergency meeting at noon tomorrow.”

Sal’s eyebrows shoot up. “But Don Vitelli is away.”

Nico was in Paris with Sophie but has had to cut their vacation short and is on his way back now.

“Don Vitelli will be there,” I finish grimly, the words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

Sal’s eyes widen slightly. “Shit. Did you tell him everything?”

Everything except the part about Addy. I figured we could always light that powder keg when he returns. “I told him just enough to get him packing up.”

I drain my glass, setting it down with more force than necessary. “Sal, I’ll handle Nico. You just make sure the Capos are there tomorrow. And stay hot on the bomber’s trail.”

“Certo.”

My voice hardens as I continue, “And Sal? I want every fucking thing there is to know about Benjamin O’Shea’s dealings. Someone desperately wants his daughter dead.”

“Consider it done,” Sal says, his voice laced with deadly intent.

I pour another drink, the amber liquid sloshing against the crystal.

Someone and their entire family are going to bleed for this. And I won’t stop until I find out who.

Chapter Nineteen

Adele

I wake up with a scream, remnants of my vivid dream of being torn apart in a bomb blast all too real.

My ass feels numb. I must have dozed off, but now, the events of the night come rushing back like a tidal wave.

I squeeze my eyes shut, but the images flash relentlessly behind my eyelids: the fireball erupting into the sky, the twisted metal of what was once my car, and that single foot that should have been mine.

My chest constricts, and a choked sob escapes my throat, quickly followed by another. I clamp a hand over my mouth, trying to stifle the sound, but it’s like the dam has broken again. The tears come in a torrent, hot and salty, wetting my chest and soaking into the neckline of my suddenly too-tight dress.

I drag myself to my feet, legs trembling, and stumble toward the ensuite bathroom. I grip the edge of the sink and force myself to look in the mirror.

My hair is a tangled mess. Mascara streaks down my cheeks in inky rivulets. My skin is pale, almost translucent, making the dark circles under my eyes stand out in stark relief. I look haunted, broken.

With shaking hands, I turn on the tap, letting the water run until steam fogs the mirror. I splash my face until the water scalds, but I welcome the pain.

When that stops working on the tearing ache in my chest, I lurch back into the bedroom, desperate for anything to numb the pain. My gaze lands on the crystal decanter on the mantelpiece, the amber liquid within glinting invitingly in the low light.

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