Page 45 of Of Vows and Betrayal

“He lied to us.”

Derek sighs and takes a sip. “No, it all checked out.”

“About Ophelia,” I say through gritted teeth. “He said she knew nothing, that he had nothing on her. That’s not true.”

“Probably,” he says, filling his glass again.

“Probably?Probably?” I ask incredulously.

Derek looks at me calmly. “Yeah, probably. But we have no proof. Jeremy gave us what he had, and it was enough to start dismantling Bergotti’s operation. Going after him now would be a mistake.”

“I’m not going after him; I have questions.”

“Javi—”

I sigh, the lack of sleep really taking a toll on my anxiety. “Which side are you on, D? Because these days you don’t seem to be on mine very much.”

“Is that what you think?” He cocks his head to the side. “Fuck you, Javi!” He drinks his glass in one go and stands up. “If your head wasn’t stuck so far up your fucking ass,maybe you’d see that I’m trying to prevent you from causing more damage. But you know what? I wash my hands.” He moves a painting of the Joker from the wall, types the code of his safe, and takes out an unmarked cell phone.

“Here.” He throws it into my lap. “Pick contact 74 69 82 69 77 89.”

I scroll through the contacts, all just numbers. “How?”

“ASCII code,” he says, his voice flat.

I try to translate the numbers in my head, but I’m not Derek’s level of genius. “T-I-R-I-M-Y?” I mutter. It hits me: it spells out Jeremy.

Derek nods, his eyes cold. “Call him if you want, but remember, every action has consequences. Don’t let your jealousy cloud your judgment. This is bigger than just you and Ophelia.”

I know this, and I know that pursuing Jeremy might not lead to anything concrete. But the relationship they had, the secrets they seemed to share, gnaw at me. I need answers, even if it means risking more than I’m prepared for.

I do the video call. “There’s a problem?” Jeremy’s face appears on the screen, worry lines etched across his brows. It’s daytime where he is—I can only assume Derek sent him to Europe.

“No problem. This is a secure line. I just need to talk to you.”

“You said we’re done,” he growls, rubbing me the wrong way.

“And you said you told me everything.”

“I did.”

“Not your secret with Ophelia.”

“She has nothing to do with all of this. You promised to keep her safe.”

“And I will, but to do that, I need to know whatever you two were planning.”

He looks at me silently, and I’m glad there’s a screen between us, or I’d strangle him. Suddenly, he smiles.

“Ah, you see her now, don’t you?” He sighs and leans back in his chair. “Your hate for the Bergottis was—still is—so strong that you would have never believed me.”

“Believe what?” I snap, frustration bubbling over.

He shakes his head, a bitter smile playing on his lips. “Ophelia and I… we weren’t planning anything sinister. She was trying to escape. Escape from the life she was trapped in, the same life you’re so entrenched in.”

I frown, my mind racing. “Escape?”

“Yes,” he continues. “She wanted out. Away from the Mafia, from what it represents. I was helping her find a way.”

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