Page 25 of Sinner's Vows

I’m under no illusion here. These men are from the same stock as Franco Fiore: Mafia. Just on this side of the pond.

Il Consiglio.There were more brothers in that warehouse yesterday, but for the life of me, I can’t place them as a family. And this is for my life. This crime ring has somehow crossed swords with Franco Fiore, and in the bigger scheme of things, with Emilio Randazzo.

The obvious connection is Gigi and Carla Trapani, but I’m not sure how they’re connected to these men. I suspect there’s history here nobody is aware of. What I won’t give for a bit of Interpol intel right now, or just access to a computer. Never mind. Here I’m just as cut off from the world as I’ve been with Franco.

They’re looking for Gabriella Scalera. Beyond actually being her, which is impossible, I have no illusions that I’m nothing but an inconvenience—a big one. If I’m not their little lost sister, I’m as good as dead.

With a deep breath, I try to read the DNA test’s instructions, needing to distract myself and get this over and done with sothey can leave. Something caused a rift between these brothers within seconds, and as much as I try to read the room, I don’t know them well enough to get how this happened without either of them speaking a single word.

At first, Dominic has protected me from Matteo’s onslaught of questions, but now he’s slumped in the chair, looking murderous. Matteo is just standing there, hovering over me, indecisive, as if he needs someone to hold his hand as he does this test.Men. That someone can be so bamboozled by a stupid swab.

“It’s not complicated,” I say, forcing myself to slip back into the type of side character with zero importance, someone who will appease them and buy me time. “You each take a swab, roll it inside your inner cheek for a minute. I do the same with my own swab. We seal them in these different colored tubes to prevent cross-contamination of the sample, and then you send it off.” My eyes run down all the way to the last lines. “Results are usually ready within three to five working days. For expedited results, call this number?—”

“We’re going to expedite the living fuck out of these tests,” Dominic grunts as he tears open a foil package and extracts a long, cotton-tipped stick. “If I could have results today, I would.”

He hands me mine, and I obediently rub away, knowing that my days are, yet again, numbered. Once these results are back as negative, I’m just a pair of eyes that witnessed crimes no human should. A woman, on top of it all, one who can easily disappear into sex trafficking, especially now I’m an illegal. I betIl Consigliois as deep into such depravity as Randazzo was. I don’t even want to know where Franco Fiore planned to lead the operations.

Franco is dead.

My stomach tightens. I still can’t believe it.

When Dominic picks up the other test packets and pulls out the swabs for my side of the DNA sample, I do what I need to do. Five tests equal five swabs. It’s all a big excessive but I say nothing.

“I’ll get the others to do theirs and then get it to the lab today,” he says in explanation. “If we pay them enough, we might even have the results tomorrow.”

Matteo closes his test tube holding his swab, pushes it back into the box, and hands it over to Dominic.

The tension between the brothers is as thick as frozen butter, and I drop my gaze to my lap, not wanting them to look at me. They have many questions, but I only have one: how on earth am I going to escape my new prison and get back to Italy?

Dominic stands and reaches for my shoulder to give me soft squeeze. I don’t flinch away from his touch, not like when Matteo wanted to stick his hand out to me and I signaled nobody is laying a hand on me, not even in a polite greeting.

It’s too soon. I’m not ready. I’ve had no time to think or order my thoughts about how I’m going to get out of this mess. I need to escape this place and make my way to the nearest police station. And all this without money, a phone, or proper clothes. With those tests going to the lab, there’s a ticking time bomb in the room. Once they have the results, I’m done for.

They won’t keep me alive once they know my truth. I, after all, know theirs, and in the Mafia, witnesses never get to tell the story. I don’t have a minute to lose.

Dominic sighs and nods to his brother. This meeting was swift, but it’s over. Matteo gives a nod, sweeps me with a glance, and with a sigh, walks out.

“Try to rest,” Dominic says as he makes his way to the door, the tests in his hands. “I’ll see you later, Ariana.”

No, you won’t.

14

DOMINIC

As we walk out of the clinic, I’m rigid with tension. Matteo looks ready to sag under this knowledge he’s kept from me for how long? Years. Twenty-two fucking years.

“Where do you want to do this?” I ask as we head to the back service road where our cars are waiting.

“It will have to be your place, Nicky. I can’t do this at mine.”

“Fine.” The Don’s house isn’t my fucking place, but Matteo used my nickname as if he’s already begging for mercy. Or forgiveness. I’m going to have to dig deep for that one.

He could take his own car, but when he clambers into the back seat of mine, I know my brother is struggling. Fuck. This life…

Stan hits the road, and we sit in stoic silence. Matteo’s bodyguard and driver follow our car. To kill time and to stop myself from going at him like a maniac and squeeze everything he knows out of him with my bare hands, I check my inbox on my phone. At times like these, I forget I forged a successful security company out of nothing and it deserves some of my time. Matteo has his own things on the side, but mine is clean.I’ve gone as pristine as I could have without becoming a fucking monk.

When we drive through the house’s gate and the security closes it behind us, I slide my phone back into my pocket. This place. If only we could burn it down and walk away. Disappear into another realm where we aren’t who we are, weren’t born to the Don, or haven’t become who we’ve become under his iron fist.

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