Page 109 of Vicious Vows

“No!” He raised his voice, and if he were standing in front of me, I would have cowered. “Do not use yourself as bait. Don’t do anything that will jeopardize Marchello’s life. Do you understand?”

“You’re as arrogant as your son.”

“Where do you think he got it from?”

“He misses you.”

“I miss him.” His voice softened. “I may not be in New York, but I can assure you, I’m doing everything to protect what’s mine, including you.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you have to trust me and let this all play out.”

“I’m not good at waiting, and I don’t like to listen,” I said.

“Then you’re probably not going to like it when I come home.”

“Why not?” Why did I ask? I didn’t want to hear his answer.

“Because, little mafia princess, I don’t have a soft spot for you like my son does. I will do what he can’t.”

“What’s that?”

“I will get you in line.”

We’ll see about that.

“I need to go,” he said. “Be careful who you trust. It’s a harsh world out there.”

“Nico.” I got up from the floor. “The only reason you don’t have a soft spot for me is because we haven’t officially met.”

His low laugh captivated me almost as much as his Italian accent.

“Take care of my son. I’m trusting you with that task. Don’t fail me.”

He ended the call before I could say anything else. He left me intrigued, but he had also given me a new perspective on what I had to do. That man needed to come home soon. I looked forward to the challenge.

Taking the dress from the closet, I carefully draped it on the bed. I gazed into the mirror, taking in the fierceness in my eyes.

Mafia princess? Hmm… I like that title. But Mafia queen sounded better.

It was time to embrace where I came from and show the men in my life exactly what I was made of. I only hoped I could handle the consequences.

TWENTY-FIVE

Marchello

The raw Novemberair had settled in my bones hours ago. My team had been at the warehouse all night, monitoring the FBI activity and accepting that the cargo had been confiscated.

Another screw up on my watch.

“This has to stop.” Lucas paced the concrete floor. “Your father will have nothing to come back to at this rate.”

“Don’t you think I fucking know that?” I kicked an empty trashcan, launching it across the room just as Milo and Lorenzo entered the damp building by the water.

“I see your mood hasn’t changed,” Milo said.

“Is there a reason it should?” I asked. “What’s the update?”

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