Page 115 of Sinner's Vows

There’s no doubt I could have been the sole objective of Franco and Garlini’s mission—I am, after all, Randazzo’s daughter. An heiress to a sick underground network and a Mafia fortune. A prize in the right man’s hands. I was the only thing Franco wanted out of his deal with Pietro Garlini.

“The only way it will ever be okay is if I end him, like he wanted to end me.” I don’t know where the words come from, but with Garlini alive I’ll never be safe. The idea is a one-eighty from everything I’ve come to trust and believe, but a sense of rightness is spreading into me like the cool reassurance of Dominic’s touch on my skin.

“That’s the only way, sweetheart, and together, we’ll get it done. Give me the list of names, and I’ll make it happen.”

61

DOMINIC

She’s a wreck, and I can’t begin to imagine what she’s feeling. Disillusioned, her life ripped from her again and now dunked in grief. She lost the people closest to her in her adult life, and worst of all? Their deaths wouldn’t have been quick and painless. Not from what I’ve seen of Franco Fiore’s handiwork or from what she’s experienced first-hand.

I hold her close and let her cry, knowing that arriving in Italy has set things in motion at a speed we can’t keep up with. It’s clear from Pietro Garlini and Franco’s messages that her fake passport was rigged. Whoever is waiting for Ariana Morelli to come back to Italy just got notified she’s entered the country.

We’re sitting on a ticking bomb, and something’s going to have to give.

When my phone pings a message, I glance down and quirk a brow. That quick, huh? An underlying buzz to avenge her ripples through me again. It’s a need slowly ballooning in me. That motherfucker. I’m ready for him.

“Ariana, sweetheart,” I murmur where she’s pressed against me, right where she belongs. “Pietro Garlini is already on your case. Your passport was rigged to trigger your movements.”

“What?” she asks, pushing away and staring up at me with tear-washed eyes.

“Ah, fuck it, sweetheart.” I slide a thumb over her cheek to catch her tears. Seeing her like this fucking hurts.

“I never break down like this,” she murmurs as she wipes at her chin.

“I know. It’s okay, I know you’re strong.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “You have to look at this, though. Here.” I open the image on my phone and hold it out to her. “Does this man look familiar?”

I can’t fathom how I would have done any of this if it weren’t for Matteo’s trip to Sicily, for which we had months to plan. I made contacts in that time and set things up I can just fall back on now, taking action with ease to put the right people in position.

Ariana wipes at her nose as she takes my phone. “It’s my apartment block.”

“Yes. Who’s at the main entrance?”

She zooms in on the image and inhales in shock. “That’s Pietro Garlini.”

“Thought so. He got notified you entered the country. He’s either coming over to see if you’re in Rome already, which is impossible because you don’t portal from place to place, or he’s there waiting in ambush, or plans to rig your apartment with a bomb or something. Could be anything. For all we know, he is de-rigging stuff he’d put in place. Best I get a team on it.”

“A team on it?” She checks the photo’s date and time stamp. “This is minutes ago. How?”

I hitch my brows. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. You’re under my protection now, and I don’t fuck up.”

Ariana blinks at me, and then her shoulders sag. It will take time for her to let go of her past and accept the only future she really has.

“What do we do? He’s out to get me.” She pushes a fist to her stomach, looking like she’s going to be sick.

I tip her chin up, forcing her to look at me. “We’re going to take him the fuck down, and we’re going to do it in such a way that nobody would ever link it to you, since you’ll be dead on the DIA’s side of things. I know Garlini’s type. He would have swept clean as he went, making it impossible for anybody to pinpoint these crimes on him.”

And how the fuck does it seem the universe had this plan for me…for me and this woman, with the Don’s iron hand shaping me to his will, but actually preparing me for this moment when I get to avenge the woman I love?

My mind reels with the realization, but now isn’t the time to contemplate our future. Now is the time to secure it.

“We’ll lure him back to your apartment when we are ready. And then we take him out.”

“How?”

“Benedict has Franco’s phone. Franco might be dead, but nobody knows this except us. It’s time for Franco to have some last communications with Garlini, and we’ll stage it for when we are ready, but it needs to be soon. Strike while the iron is hot.”

She drops her head into her hands as a sob rakes through her. “I’m still getting my head around everything, I can’t?—”

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