Page 116 of Sinner's Vows

“Leave it to me.” I’ve killed before. This woman has never pulled the trigger or cut a throat, irrespective of her plans for Randazzo and her vendetta. I’ll be her henchman.

I lean in to tap Gus on the shoulder. “Find a space where we can work and spend the night outside of Rome. Somewhere inconspicuous, touristy, but not flashy.”

“On it, boss.”

“What about Gabriella? We’re going to Potenza?” Ariana says. “You can’t drop everything?—”

“We must. We’re sitting on a ticking bomb here, sweetheart. Potenza is on the other side of Rome. We need to deal with Pietro Garlini first.” Because who knows what the fuck else he has planned. I know my position, my strengths. I can guess his, but at this point, surprise is our biggest weapon. “I’ll phone the convent and take things from there, but for now?—”

“There’s several smaller guesthouses in the countryside outside of Rome, boss.”

“Pick one with enough rooms available for most of the team, with the rest on standby close by.”

We carry on in silence until Gus announces he’s found the perfect spot. He passes his phone to Dominic who scans the bed and breakfast and gives it a thumb’s up. “Good, we’ll take three rooms but with a tiered arrival.”

“Yes, boss.”

I don’t have to give detailed instructions. My team understands my needs. We’ll have guards in-house and men stationed in the vicinity as back up.

As soon as we drive up the guesthouse’s driveway, I know it’s the perfect spot. We’re in the country, surrounded by vineyards, hanging heavy with grapes in the late summer sun.

It’s early for a check-in, but the elderly owner seems only too happy to have guests filling her empty rooms and offers us breakfast, too. We get the room keys, and I send Gus ahead with the little luggage we have. He knows what to do. Check the room for hidden cameras. He will sweep the general guest areas later, but this isn’t the type of establishment that seems high on tech solutions, or on invading your privacy.

We have a coffee while waiting for the all-clear, and as soon as Ariana and I are alone in our room, I suppress the urge to pin her to the wall and kiss her, just to do something with the fucking tension in my body.

“Can you call the convent?” I ask instead, focusing on where to hit hard first. “Speak to the Mother Superior or whoever runs the show and ask about Gabriella?”

“Me?” She looks stunned.

“Yes, you. It would be better for a woman to ask around. Plus, in a way, you are related. It isn’t far-fetched to call her your sister.”

Ariana sinks down on the bed, and I hold my phone out to her, the number already on the screen. “Please.”

“I’ve… I’ve never had a sister before,” she says as her hands go limp with the slight weight of the phone. “I’ve never had family before. I—” She taps on her chest to get a grip on her emotions, and I give her the time she needs, then squeeze her shoulder.

I can’t even imagine a life without my brothers or how lonely and isolated she must have been. “Just press dial.”

I look on as she calls and puts the phone on speaker, my heart in my throat, beating wildly as the ringing cuts through the room. We’re bound to be disappointed, and this internal hype is all for nothing.

When a soft-spoken woman answers, she makes some small talk, then Ariana clears her throat. “I’m enquiring after my sister. I believe she might have been staying with you for some time. Her first name is Gabriella, and we were split at her birth. It’s a long story, but she’d be twenty-two years old now.”

“Gabriella? Just a moment,” the woman says. “I’ll put you through to the Reverend Mother.”

Ariana stares up at me, eyes wide. My knees go weak. It isn’t ano. What the fuck is this? I was expecting a dead end.

“Tell them you’re Ariana Scalera,” I whisper to her as we wait.

It takes a minute for us to be connected up the chain of command, and when an even older woman’s voice answers, I sit down next to Ariana.

“This is Reverend Mother Lucia speaking. How can I help you?”

Ariana repeats what she’d asked earlier.

“And who may I ask is enquiring?”

“It’s Ariana Scalera,” she says, and the name glides off her tongue with such ease and has such a beautiful ring to it, I wrap my arm around her back and hug her close.

“And you claim to be related to Gabriella?”

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