Page 8 of Savage Vows

“What do you think, Nash?”

“We’re clear on that, sir.”

How they pulled that off, I have no idea. My mind spins. “Artemis and Caspian know who you are.” I ball my fist triumphantly.

“No. I’m afraid they don’t.”

His confidence grates on my last nerve. No doubt he’d given a fake name when he booked accommodations. And wonderful, flighty Artemis wouldn’t have asked many questions.

“The question is, does she know who you are?” he muses. “Who youreallyare? Not just an aspiring artist?”

“She knows the authentic me,” I counter. “What you’re talking about is something else entirely. I was born into the DeLuca family, but I am not one ofthem.”The farther I can get away from my family and their business, the better. If I never saw my dad or brothers again, I’d be fine. And until Matteo showed up, that had been my plan.

“Unfortunately for you, little rebel, you can’t erase the truth of who you are.”

I’ve never felt so powerless, so …trapped. The freedom I’d tasted at Elysian Hall—the joy of creating, of being seen as more than the daughter of a crime lord—crumbles around me.

Clenching my hands in my lap, I sit back.

Each mile that passes takes me farther from the happiest I’ve ever been since I lost my mom and my innocence.

“Where are we going?”

“For tonight? Mayfair.”

I blink. There’s a wonderful hotel there, the Sterling Townhome, but I doubt that’s Matteo’s plan. “And after that?”

“You’ll be informed as necessary.”

I clamp my back teeth. “I need my things,” I say finally, breaking the suffocating silence. My voice sounds small, and I hate myself for it.

“I’ll handle it.”

His dismissive tone makes me want to scream.

“Everything is back there.” My satchel, my art supplies, my journals, my whole life.

“You were given plenty of time to return home.”

I scowl at him. When my father sent that ultimatum, I ignored it. He’s always been indulgent with me, maybe because he knows how much I despise his actions and the fact his life choices stole my mother from me. I’ve always found it difficult to love him and my brothers because they’ve embraced our terrible family business.

The last thing I want is to be tied to a mafioso for the rest of my life. My father would never chase me to Europe and force me to come home. But Matteo? I hadn’t counted on his determination to possess me and make me fall into line.

Suddenly feeling vulnerable and anxious, I pull his jacket tighter around me, despising that the scent of him makes me delirious. Desperately I want to shove it off. “I need my clothes.”

His lips twitch with dark amusement. “You seem to enjoy taking them off. You’ll manage.”

The cruel jab hits its mark, and I furiously blush. Until today, I’ve never done anything like that. “I was modeling for an art class. That’s hardly the same as?—”

He cuts me off with a wave of his hand, imperious as any king.

“We’ll stop soon. Chiara will get you something to wear. Or I will.”

The finality in his tone says he’s done with the conversation, but everything in me rebels against his authority.

Not more than fifteen minutes later, the sky turning dusky, Nash pulls into a service station.

Nash checks our surroundings then exits to fill the gas tank, and Matteo tells Chiara to stay put. “Don’t let Alessia out of the car.”

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