Page 56 of Sinner's Vows

Just like Ariana. My gaze flicks to the bed where her body is outlined in the dark. All warm and soft and so fucking beautiful…with that female scent that basically drove me nuts the whole night.

A stab of jealously pierces through me. Matteo got the one thing we’ve all known for years is off the cards. The one thing I’ve consistently denied myself, choosing to protect my brothers instead. And now, Steph’s gone and joined the club, too.

Women, love, andIl Consiglioisn’t a good fit. It’s too fucking dangerous. Not only for them, but for us, too. Women from the outside can be bought; they can turn on us. Sell us out. So far, we’ve been lucky—Tasha’s realized her dad is a decrepit loser, and the fact he’s still alive serves as security for us. Gigi is from our world and came to us for protection. We’re in a stronger position with her marriage to Stephano. There’ll be no such luck for the rest of us Scalera boys.

With a huff, I reply to his stupid message, not beating around the bush this time.

Me:No, Matty, for real. I fucked up.

Time ticks by, and I bet where Matteo was at first lying in bed reading these messages, he’s now sitting up straight.

Matteo:How?

Me:One Boris said the other Boris was Igor Petrov’s nephew.

A long stretch of silence follows as Matteo digests this information. Yep, I just gave my oldest brother more sleepless nights. He’ll read between the lines. Our Ukrainians are connected to the Bratva in New Jersey and New York. The Bratva who basically rules the ports on that side and everything in between. To Igor Petrov’s organization and one we used to have a watertight agreement with. Well, until yesterday, we did.

Matteo: Come see me. First thing.

That’s a summons.

Me:Yep.

I still have time to find a solution to this problem, but fuck it, I’ve spent the whole night trying to find one and couldn’t come up with shit. I was going to Matteo’s in any case. I have some questions to ask Vincenzo while he’s still around.

A soft knock on the door makes me close my phone and walk over. When I open up, a bleary-eyed Portia is standing there, dressed and ready to keep an eye on Ariana. I step out of the room and close the door softly.

“Thanks for coming,” I whisper. It helps that I’ve always been her favorite. She’ll do anything for me.

“She’s sleeping?”

I nod. Her gaze travels to my own pajamas, and I cringe. She’ll see the bed. The crumpled ties. She’ll know we’ve spent the night together, but like a good Mafia housekeeper, she won’t blink an eye or say a thing. Instead, she’ll read the bedsheets and come to her own conclusions: nothing’s happened.

And yet, a lot of things happened. No wonder I couldn’t figure out what to do with this Igor Petrov situation. I’ve held a woman in my arms during the night for the first time in years. I can’t even recall how long it’s been.

“I’m going to grab my things and go for a run. Do some weights. Swim.” Anything really to stop my mind for churning and from the distraction named Ariana Morelli.

“You look so tired, Nicky. Don’t overdo it,” she whispers back. “And don’t worry about Ariana. She won’t try anything with me.”

I nod. “Let her sleep in. She needs it.”

I glance down the corridor where a backup security detail has been stationed throughout the night. He’s wide awake, and Bruno is at his feet, still dozing in his old age, not so excited to see me at this hour. At six, there’ll be a partial security guard rotation on the premises. Only certain positions. Keep them guessing.

I might have fucked up, butIl Consigliois an oiled machine.

Whatever Igor Petrov is going to do or want in retribution for his nephew’s death, we’ll be able to deal with it.

30

ARIANA

I roll onto my stomach and push my face into the pillow as I slowly wake up. I’ve slept so well. This bed is just perfect. After a languid stretch and a happy sigh, I let my limbs relax again.

Something’s missing. Warmth and safety and a certain intoxicating scent I want to nuzzle my nose in.

I blink in confusion, not sure where I even am anymore.

A slice of early morning light cuts through the curtains, and then there’s movement. Someone is getting up from a chair in the corner. I freeze and by instinct want to curl into myself. Safety amongst these people is just an illusion.

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