Page 19 of Vicious Vows

“You’re always going to have too much going on.”

“I hope our lives get a little less complicated.”

Things were probably going to get far worse before we could move toward our happily ever after, but I wasn’t a quitter. I would stand by Marchello’s side until we were out of the storm.

“I’m glad you’re here.” I smiled. “I’ve been so worried about you.”

“You’ve been worried about me?” She tapped her nails against the counter. “You have no idea what it’s like not knowing where your child is or if she’s okay. Don’t ever do that to me again.”

The upcoming trip to Florida came to mind. She wouldn’t know where I was going to be.

“You say you’re not a prisoner.”

“I’m not.”

“Then come back to my apartment with me,” she said. “I can’t leave you here. Marchello could send a guard with you.”

“You have to trust me.” I came around from behind the bar and faced her. “We both know the next few weeks won’t be easy. If I’m out of touch, it doesn’t mean I’m not okay.”

“Lissia—”

“Mom.” I held up my hand. “I’m not going to leave Marchello. He needs me.”

“He’s going to get you killed.”

“He’s going to keep me safe. If I leave with you, Dad will get to me.” I looked at the floor. “Danny will find me.”

“You’re right,” she whispered. “Your best bet is Marchello.”

Someone knocked at the door, and dread came over me. My mother must have sensed it because she pulled me into an embrace.

“You have to go.” I hugged her. “The longer you’re here, the easier it will be for Dad to find out.”

“We’re going to see one another soon, right?” She continued to hold me. “You’ll stay safe?”

“I promise.” My vow was uncertain. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Okay.” She took my hand and led me to the door. “Tell Marchello I’ll kill him if anything happens to you.”

“I’ll pass along the message.”

“I’m not going to say goodbye.”

I nodded.

“I love you, baby girl.” She pulled me into an embrace. “Always.”

“I love you too, Ma.” I held onto her, knowing that it could be a while before we saw one another. “Be careful.”

I trusted Marchello with my life, but I couldn’t help feeling unsettled. Our trip to Florida weighed heavily on my mind. Would the men there help us, or could we be walking into a trap?

I released her and opened the door—I couldn’t prolong this any longer or I would never let her go. She smiled at me through teary eyes as she stepped onto the elevator with her guards. Once the doors closed, I let out the breath I had been holding, then shut the penthouse door to get away from my guards’ scrutinizing glances.

Why did watching my mother leave feel so final?

FIVE

Marchello

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