Page 81 of Of Vows and Betrayal

Except that.

I open the door and glower at him. He’s dressed to the nines in a perfectly pressed black suit with a black shirt… He looks like death—how fitting.

I cross my arms on my chest, trying to ignore the fact that I’m wearing an oversized, over-washed sleeping shirt and pink fluffy socks with a hole in the right big toe.

“I’m not welcome there.”

“Maybe not tomorrow for the funeral, but tonight you are.”

I narrow my eyes at him with suspicion. “Why would you do that? What’s your angle? You hated him.”

He nods. “But you loved him, and I love you. You deserve a chance to say goodbye.”

I want to shove the door in his face; I don’t want to give him anything, but I need to say goodbye so much more.

“I’ve got nothing to wear.” Fabrizio has yet to send my things here, or maybe he has, and Javier has them hidden somewhere for some sick game he wants to play.

“I thought of that.” He reaches behind him for a garment bag, extends it to me, then reaches down for a shoebox.

“Give me ten minutes.”

He nods and leans against the wall across from my door.

I open the bag and find a somber designer dress, something perfectly suitable for a funeral. It has a high, arched neck and stops at the knees. I don’t bother with any artifice and remove my sleeping shirt, step into the dress that fits perfectly, and put my hair in a tight bun before stepping into the kitten heels he bought as well.

I sigh, running my hands over the dress, my heart racing at everything that could go wrong. I don’t want to bringshame to my father or cause him a final scandal.

I don’t want to speak to Javier, to give him the satisfaction of hearing my voice, but the anxiety gets the best of me.

“They don’t want me there,” I say as we take the elevator down.

“They won’t be there. The wake is over, and the shut coffin will be brought to St. Raphael’s Cathedral in the morning. I pulled some strings, and we can go, but it needs to be before five a.m.”

A little of my apprehension eases. St. Raphael’s Cathedral is used for high-ranking Gambinos—Fabrizio really came through.

When we get to the parking garage, Derek is waiting by the back door, and my pace falters with surprise.

“I know you’re not my biggest fan right now, so I thought you could use a friend,” Javier whispers.

I feel gratitude for his thoughtfulness but shrug. “Don’t expect me to thank you for this,” I spit before throwing myself into Derek’s arms, closing my eyes tightly as tears burn at the back of my eyes.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Javier lets out bitterly. “Shall we?”

Derek opens the back door for me, and I hold on to him as I sit down. He throws a look at Javier.

I hear Javier sigh. “Go on.”

Derek sits beside me, keeping my hand in his. He doesn’t say anything but squeezes it, and it’s far better than words.

We park at the back of a gray two-story building, and wewait, Javier’s head turned toward the metal door barely visible through the security light.

“Wha—”

Suddenly, the light above the door flickers. “That’s our cue,” Javier says, exiting the car.

“Trust him, please. If only for tonight, trust him,” Derek whispers urgently.

I don’t have time to ask what he means as Javier opens my door and extends his hand.

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