Page 12 of Sinner's Vows

I head to the parking garage in the building’s basement where my driver, Stan, and my bodyguard, Gus, have been killing time.

We hit the road to the Don’s house, and forty minutes later, I take in the beautiful grounds in the twilight. At this time of year, it’s truly an oasis with rolling lawns and big trees that will soon show hints of the coming fall. With the estate still under guard and being maintained by the same trustworthy staff the Don employed, it’s immaculate.

As the house comes into view, I already spot Bruno where he’s waiting at the front door. My heart clenches.

Dang that dog. Nobody has ever waited for me like this.

I’m a loner. Always have been. Mostly because of the Don, but also because I can’t let anybody close to me. All Scalera boys have done illegal things that come with being in the Mafia, but there are layers here. Where Matteo and Stephano have only killed in self-defense, to protect someone else, I’ve killed on command.

I’ve tortured and maimed; I’ve dragged information out of people like I would their nails, all with a cold-hearted brutality that’s been fine-tuned over years in the Don’s service. I know what I’m protecting my brothers from—I’m protecting them from someone like me.

The only way to survive in this world is to be the strongest, and now Matteo and Stephano have both gone and weakened our foundation by bringing women into the picture.Fucking madness…

There are unwritten rules about being in the Mafia and getting married, such as wives and children are off-limits when it comes to retaliations, discipline, or hostile takeovers. None of those rules will ever apply to me. I’ve done things nobody ever talks about—because they’re dead—but rumors are rife. There will be no mercy if I, or any woman associated with me, get caught by our enemies.

With a sigh, I clamber out of the car. Bruno wags his tail and hastens towards me.

“Hey, bud. Good day, hmm?” I say softly, a warm spot glowing in my heart.

Fuck it. To think this mutt is growing even more on me in his old age. Every day he does this: waits for me and then trails behind me as if I’m his last connection to the man he evidently loved. Then he whines so much when I leave, testing me like no human ever has.

For Bruno’s sake, we can’t sell the house in a rush. He shatters my resolve with those eyes that seem to search for a face, only to lean into me with his head against my thigh when he realizes it’s me and not the Don. Then nuzzling my hand as if it doesn’t matter, as if he’s happy to have his world revolve aroundme.

I sink down on the stairs to sit next to him and drive my hands into his thick fur to give him a good rub. He pants happily, and for a long time, we’re just sitting there, in companionable silence as twilight turns darker and darker.

Just like my soul.

It’s pitch black by the time I make the call. The fucker in the basement won’t see the next day. He’s the only capo still standing who hasn’t sworn hisomertàto Matteo. He won’t talk, and I bet it’s because he’s involved in another crime ring, one that might be coming for us or stealing our business. In moments of delirium, he’s spewed out some Russian at me, basically sealing his fate. No kid puts the Bratva andIl Consiglioin the same sandbox and gets to play along.

With this Franco Fiore situation coming to a head sooner or later, there’s going to be blood and bodies. Matteo’s promession site has a limited capacity, and we wouldn’t want this fucker to cause a bottleneck.

Time to go do the thing I’ve been trained for.

6

ARIANA

I blink at the oval-shaped window that only opens to darkness. The low hum of engines drone in my ears. Far off, a single light blinks.

I don’t move, waiting for the fog in my head to lift. The past few days have blurred into a mess of distorted memories. Wearing sunglasses indoors to have my eyes adjust to the light after weeks underground. Food. I could eat for days. A shower. Washing my hair…brushing my teeth. Luxuries I’ll never take for granted again.

Franco never lived up to his promise. Monday—execution day—came and went. I recall his henchman dragging me up the stairs out of the dungeon, just before I went completely mad.

Of all the inhumane things to do to someone, isolation in the dark is probably the worst. Franco could have asked anything of me, and I’d have given it to him. A list of my colleagues’ names who are out to get him? Done. Where do they live? Give me a map, and I’ll show you. Wives and kids he can eliminate en route? Here’s the exact headcount.

Staring at the far-off blinking light, it sinks in. How the hell…? I’m on an airplane, and I don’t recall getting on it at all.

As I shift in my seat, my head sways. God. I’ve been drugged. With a deep drag of air, I come up again only to see Franco Fiore sitting across from me. The sight is so sudden and creepy, a shudder runs through my body, and I gasp.

“Welcome back, Ariana. You’ve been so well-behaved, I almost want to give my little girl a golden star.”

I start to tremble. It’s in fear, but for all I know, it’s the first hint of withdrawal.

The last time I saw him was when he came to my hole of a jail cell with Vincenzo Trapani. I glance around slowly. I have no idea how long I’ve been on this flight. We’re on a private jet heading straight to…hell? “Where’re we going?”

“The end of the road.”

And the worst is, even if I want to fight him with everything in me, this drugged, my body won’t have the strength for it.

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