Page 46 of Sinner's Vows

So did mine. But I don’t say that. Instead, I press play on a new release that seems innocent enough. An action movie about making action movies. “This is good?”

“It’s perfect.”

I close the door and switch off the lights. Now we’re huddled in a dark room with the only light coming from the massive TV screen on the far wall. It’s as close to a real cinema you’re going to get without leaving home. I’d kill for a glass of wine now—I suppose I shouldn’t say this lightly—but Ariana isn’t the only one who wants to be ‘all there.’

As I sit down, I up the volume a notch and settle in my seat, pushing the control so the footrest is up and I can lean back. She’s already done the same with her chair, and observing her trying to figure it out was like watching a kid in a candy store. Everything is new to her. This girl clearly grew up poor,what with her dad dead and her ending up in some Randazzo henchman’s house. And also with Franco. I bet that didn’t end well for her, either.

With a sigh, I kick off my shoes, and in the most innocent way possible, ruck up my pants a few inches. Just enough for her to see the ankle holster with my concealed carry pistol.

And then I get busy with the hard work of feigning sleep.

Let the fun and games begin.

24

ARIANA

Dominic is asleep. He actually dozed off twenty minutes into this mess of a movie, and I don’t blame him. It isn’t really going anywhere, and the man by my side has me drawn like a magnet.

I’ve curled up in my seat, my knees facing in his direction so I don’t give him my back. There’s lots of space between us, and for a man, he’s only been kind and gracious. I’d go so far as to call him a perfect gentleman, which is so far removed from my frame of reference, it’s laughable. In the world I grew up in, women were only good for one thing, and the men didn’t go about getting it in a gentlemanly way. After experiencing Franco, nothing is going to shake that foundational belief in me, or my plans to vindicate my mom’s death, honor her life, and rip Randazzo’s trafficking rings to shreds.

I’m delusional, but I haven’t given up yet. If my team can’t find me, I need to find them. I can’t sit here, doing nothing, not with an opportunity staring me in the face. In fact, my pulse is racing with new vigor. I’ve spotted a weapon and a man disengaged. I’m an idiot, but I can’t let this opportunity slip through my hands.

If I slip quietly off the leather seat and to my haunches, then lean in just a bit, gently peel away his pant leg an inch, I’d be able to pull the pistol out and have it aimed at him before he’s fully awake.

And then… And then…I’ll sneak out of here and make my escape. Or force him to drive me to the airport so I can fly to Italy, and we’ll make as if none of this ever happened. I’ll turn a blind eye to everything I’ve learned here and deal with the situation on the other side of the pond. What do they say? Clean up your own house first.

I suck in a deep, slow breath. In the light of the TV and the movie which has hit a night scene, I have more cover. I try to slide from the seat, but the back of my legs are glued to the leather, and I bite down a curse. I peel myself free, and Dominic doesn’t stir at the ripping sounds, what with the movie going on in the background. My toes push into the plush rug underneath, and I lower to my knees. If he wakes up now and looks at the screen, he’d see my head etched out, so I shift a bit to be perfectly between our seats.

For a moment, I pause. His feet are massive. I take in his long legs in his dark trousers and higher to his chest. The man is a hulk, and the perfect fit of his grey shirt only accentuates it. To think I saw that sculpted chest naked and had the idiocy to blush in the moment.

God. There I go again. I’ve been around men all my life, but never around one who is so unaware of his potent sexuality, or more like…he doesn’t use it to his advantage. He doesn’t play to it all the time. It’s just who he is, and he isn’t the whole freakingI’m macho so watch me fuck your pussy to smithereenspersonality. All talk and no substance.

With a sigh, I remind myself all men are monsters, and this one is no exception. I’m not privy to details of what happened this afternoon in the basement, but I can fill in the blanks.

I inch my fingers closer to his ankle and peer over the armrest to pinch his trouser leg and shift it up a bit. He’ll feel this, depending on how deep asleep he is. I’m slow, intentionally taking my time to move the fabric and get my hand in position, trying my best to not let my fingertips brush against his skin. I graze a coarse leg hair or two in the process, and my breathing stalls as he stirs. My gaze flicks to his face. His eyes are closed, and his chest hasn’t changed the rhythm of his deep and steady breathing.

I don’t change my position but now have my fingers on the pistol’s grip. I know the gun type. Small and not very heavy, but lethal all the same. The ankle holster is molded to the gun’s shape so it will slide out easily as there’s no strap holding the weapon in place. The whole get-up is made for a quick retrieval and even quicker shot.

I keep my eyes on Dominic’s face. He’s relaxed in sleep, and something stirs in me. Not in my core, where I felt wet heat seep from me earlier in his room, but higher. In my heart. I’d hate to hurt him, to be forced to pull the trigger. To be honest, no man has ever touched me so gently as he has, and it’s been working on my subconscious where I’ve packed all desire away. I might be sexually cold and have written that part of life off—but clearly, I’m not immune to Dominic.

It’s a first.

It’s weird and unwanted.

I can’t get my head around it. Before that night with Franco, I’d been pretty normal, all things considered. After that night with Franco, I boxed up every feminine part of me and buried it so deep, I planned to never find it again. I already knew where I was going career-wise, and in my field, men are just complications and problems I didn’t need or have time for. Imagine all the questions I’ll get from a partner aboutwhere have I beenandwhat have I been doing.

This weird attraction to Dominic is definitely unwanted, and I bet it’s because I’ve been on death row for weeks and then walked out with my life in a fragile hold, Dominic catching me just as I caved. My body is whispering to me that I got a second chance I was never entitled to in the first place…it’s time to live a little.

As if things aren’t dire enough, the man thinks I’m his sister. Truth be told, it’s a bit of a mindfuck. It’s a joke.

With a slow inhale, I prepare myself. On a shallow exhale, I slide the pistol from its holster. Dominic drags in a shaky breath, and I freeze, but his eyes are still closed. I lean back and feel the pistol for weight and then in a smooth, slick move, rise to my feet. I cock the gun and aim it at his chest.

I take two steps back, and in this moment, the scene on the movie changes to daylight and floods the room in white light.

Dominic’s gaze flicks open, and he stares right at me, as if he knew exactly where I’d be. “Good job, sweetheart.”

Goosebumps rush over my skin like an invasion of ants as blood roars through my veins in shock and horror. His voice is crisp and clear. Not that of a man who’d dozed off and was still half-asleep.

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