Page 80 of Sinner's Vows

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just a gut feeling, but Portia couldn’t get out of here fast enough earlier. Ariana is definitely sitting on some information she hasn’t shared, but she’s going to crack. The signs are all there.”

“You’re speaking in circles, bro?”

I drop my head back to stare at the ceiling, suppressing a groan. “It’s just a gut feel, Matty, so just trust me with this, okay?”

“Okay-okay. You know I do.”

With a huff, I empty the wine into a potted palm that looks like it needs a drink and place the glass on a side table. “Tomorrow, I’ll have the DNA results, and then at least we’ll have some answers. I have her fingerprints, and Stan will deliver them to Benedict tonight. Those should be quick, depending on his contacts and how deep they need to dig.”

“Good.” Matteo sighs into the phone. “What a fucking day.”

“You’re telling me, bro. I hardly slept last night.” And I’m not done yet. “Nothing new from the Petrovs?”

“No, and we’re going to ride this wave for as long as possible. When the shit hits the fan, it’s going to be fucking spectacular.”

True, that. “We’re in this together.”

“Yep. Teamwork makes the fucking dream work. Let me have those results when you get them.”

“Will do.”

We ring off, and for a moment, I stare at my phone’s screen. We’re all on edge with this situation, and going around Ariana’s back to get info on her doesn’t exactly sit well with me, but in my world, closed books get pried open. I’m going about it as if she’s a treasured ancient manuscript.

The one side of the lounge is covered with bookcases and cupboards at the bottom, and I open them at random to look for a container to put Ariana’s wineglass in. I find an old shoebox with instruction booklets for dated electronics. I tear the booklets into separate pages and scrunch them up to form some padding for the box. Once I’ve nestled the glass between the paper, I close the lid. I phone Stan with instructions, and by the time I’ve walked to the front door, he’s waiting for me.

“Get this to Benedict right now. Move it as little as possible. It’s fragile.”

“Yes, boss.”

I wait for Stan to drive off and take in the garden in the last of the late summer’s light. There’s no sign of Bruno, but the security detail with their Alsatians is patrolling the grounds. It seems excessive right now, but I know how things spin out of control in our world. Better safe than sorry.

When I stroll back into the cleaned kitchen minutes later, Ariana is sitting at the counter, twiddling her thumbs. The security guard stares at her from where he is leaning with his butt against the far-side counter, not taking his eyes off her, his hand resting on the weapon by his waist.

Yep, the word about this woman and how she whacked one of our men almost into the afterlife with a fire extinguisher has done the rounds.

“It’s all good, thank you.” I nod to the guard so he can make his exit.

As soon as the man is gone, Ariana looks up at me. My earlier question hangs in the space between us.What do I do with you now, sweetheart?

“I’m really tired. Portia worked me to the bone,” she says. “Can we just go to bed?”

The way she says this makes me want to smile, but fuck. I’d love nothing more. She should sleep alone, but I bet she doesn’t want to be alone, locked up.

“Where are you sleeping, sweetheart? Alone in that small room with a guard outside the door, or in my bed, like last night?”

“You have a really big bed,” she says softly, blinking at me as that sweet blush spreads over her cheeks.

Until you’re in it, sweetheart. Then it shrinks to all just you.“Yeah.”

“I slept properly for the first time in months last night… I know it’s weird, but you…you?—”

She buries her face in her hands, and my heart pangs as her shoulders shudder with those quiet sobs of hers.

She’s been through too much.

“It’s fine, Ariana.” I’m not sure if I can do two nights of sleep deprivation and still keep shit together, but I’ll figure that out tomorrow.

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