Page 14 of Sinner's Vows

I close my eyes, not doubting him for a second. He could do whatever he wants to me now. I’d rather die than have something happen to my boss’s ten-year-old twins. Without a doubt, Franco won’t hesitate to let men do to them what he’d done to me.

We land, and by the time we’ve gone through passport control and got into a taxi, I’m rattled with shock at how easy it was to get into the States. I’m done for, though. What else could Franco possibly use me for now?

Observe, adapt, act only when the time is right.My little go-to mantra pops back in my mind. I’m not dead yet.

We’re pulling up into a truck rental company, one of those dodgy places outside of the city where line upon line of vans and trucks bake in the sun.

“This is us, darling,” Franco says as he pays the taxi driver. We all clamber out, his hand steel around my arm, squeezing in warning.

This might be in the middle of nowhere, but I should run while I can. Even just try my luck…but I choke the notion. Whatever I do today will have repercussions on the most innocent people out there, and even though I’m already dead, I won’t be able to live with myself if Franco retaliates.

The henchmen also get out of their taxi, and we wait for the vehicles to drive away. Then one of the men walks off and returns minutes later with car keys and nods, so we follow him. Franco never lets go of the death grip on my arm, but he doesn’t need to force me along like this. His warning about Pietro’s daughters sucked out the little energy I had left.

We stop at a white van standing at the end of a row. The henchman opens up its double back doors.

Only one thing is certain here: once I’m inside, I’m done for. I gather my strength and strain against Franco’s hold for one last futile second. We’re far off in a corner of the yard, and even if there were security cameras, the men and the doors block everything that’s happening from view. Nobody is going to come to my aid.

“Bad timing, Ariana,” Franco hisses as he punches me in the gut. I fold into the back of the van with such force, I stumble and hit the side of my head on the hard metal floor. My head spins, but I’m not out for the count—not yet. Feet step over me, and arms drag me deeper into the van by my hands.

The doors close, swamping the space in darkness.

7

DOMINIC

It’s been weeks of planning, and now Franco Fiore has finally hit our turf. The rush is real. Ever since he landed at one of the smaller commercial airports outside of Boston, and we’ve realized he’s given us the slip, adrenaline has been crashing through my veins.

Now, he has Gigi and Carla Trapani in his hold, and fuck knows, Stephano is losing his mind.

Good. I need my brother at his peak when he deals with Franco. Over the weeks, I’ve watched Steph. Everything to this point had been eating him. His past, the Don, the fuckup that was every single one of our youths, and then the love he has for Gigi Trapani. A deep, immovable love that makes me want to step away from it, because it hurts so fucking much. A type of love that shakes the world and makes men do stupid fucking shit.

Yep, protecting his wife is my brother’s only goal, and Steph’s final day of retribution has come. This is what he needs, and I will hand it to him on a platter.

But first, we need to ensure the safety of the women, and somehow the numbers have grown from two to three.

We didn’t expect for Franco’s entourage to contain an unknown female he strong-armed out of the private jet airport and shoved into the back seat of a taxi as if she were a piece of meat. That security footage spoke volumes. Fuck knows, it riled me up. All I want is for her to be safe. I don’t care who she is, but to be manhandled like that gave me flashbacks of Mom and the Don. That airport staff didn’t pull them aside for intimate partner abuse just goes to show how little people care, and how negligent Franco has become. The man is mental, but this we knew.

Mental or not, I give anybody who treats a woman like this a bullet in the head.

I’m in a truck with Benedict, our sniper rifles loaded. My phone pings with the latest location share, and I quirk a brow.

“Dumb fuck.” I can’t help but smirk. “I thought this was going to be a challenge, but it’s going to be a walk in the park.”

I turn my screen towards Benedict, and his eyes widen before he meets my gaze. “Gotta be kidding me?”

“Nope.”

Every scheme we hoped would catch Franco failed, but he has gone and picked his own deathtrap. His van is heading straight for our abandoned warehouses on the Boston harbor’s periphery, and we couldn’t have asked for a better outcome.

For the next minute, we’re on a video call with Matteo and Stephano, strategizing. Once our plans are in place, I instruct the driver to speed up. He finally slows down to a quiet crawl as we enter the dead-end road with the row of warehouses the Don used for his import and export business.

“We keep the woman for last if we kill her at all.” The plan is to eliminate Franco’s team with a few neat shots and leave Stephano to end Franco. It looks like he only brought the woman along as a human shield, and I don’t want to take out an innocent thrown into this mess. “She might come in handy.”

Benedict nods as his leg jolts up and down. He isn’t nervous; he’s pumped. My youngest brother doesn’t get enough action, and I can’t deny him the thrill of the chase.

“Turn and stop here on the side,” I say as Franco’s white van pulls into a warehouse, at least two hundred yards from us.

The driver parks, and we wait twenty seconds, scouting the surroundings for unwanted traffic. Behind us, farther down the road, one of our vehicles has pulled up to block anybody from coming this way.

---