Page 115 of Dangerous Vows

He claims it was to help with my nightmares and that I need the rest for the baby. That’s what he always says. But I saw the way his hand lingered near mine on the sheets. I felt the way he shifted closer in his sleep.

As much as he was accommodating last night, he’s gone before I woke up. I’m so sick of staring at these walls.

Even though he was just here a few hours ago, I smelled his scent, which lingers like a secret. It’s proof that last night wasn’t my imagination.

He’s gone, like an apparition. I know something is brewing, but I don’t have any details.

I passed the day talking to Sarah, who had a hot date with the pilot. It’s refreshing to hear about the real world that stops at the threshold of this house.

I chatted with Bianca, and she made me laugh. I love her. Let’s face facts, I love the entire family. But she and I are close in age, and she makes me laugh, something Pietro used to do.

I cook dinner and eat alone, serving Arman a hot meal.He insists on standing as he wolfs down my lasagna made with my grandmother’s recipe.

“This is incredible,” he says, handing me his empty plate. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” After that, it’s back to normal, with him pacing the house, checking the perimeter, and returning to the foyer, where he locks the door behind him.

I’m bingeing a suspense marathon late at night when there’s a knock on the door. Instinctively, I’m afraid it will be a soldier telling me Pietro has been injured or is dead. My heart sinks as he opens the door and Bianca storms in!

She’s a force of nature with her karate moves and Ninja deftness. She’s agile, and she dodges each of Arman’s punches with cat-like reflexes.

Arman, caught off guard, falls to the ground.

I move forward and stare down at him. She knocked him out!

Before I can recover, she says, “A message was left for you… at the Palazzo Romano,” her voice quick, her words tumbling over each other like they’re trying to outrun the one’s flowing behind them.

Her eyes flick to mine, wide with something close to fear—or perhaps resolve. Whatever it is, it’s not normal.

“What do you mean?” It’s only now that I have a second to really see her. She’s standing in the sliver of stillness between us. She’s clad in black from head to toe. Her outfit is spandex and nylon, which hugs her curves like a second skin. She looks like a lethal Ninja, and honestly, she moves like one as well.

I’m convinced she stepped right out of theJohn Wickmovie I was watching.

She’s no longer just a woman—she’s a weapon.

A goddess carved for war, cloaked in elegance and danger.

I don’t have time to ponder how she acquired her skill sets because she’s talking again.

“Miloš has men in your grandmother’s condo… posing as cable repairmen. I saw the video but left the phone behind. Help me load Arman in the Hummer.”

She reaches for Arman’s arms, and I take his feet. We half carry, and half drag him out of the house. I huff and strain to lift the lovable lug, and finally, we get him situated into the armored vehicle truck.

Bianca quickly zooms in and zip ties his hands like a pro, then she shoves a handkerchief into his mouth. She takes his cell phone and tosses it to the ground before she closes the door.

She turns to me. “I’ll let him out when we get there. Get in.”

“What are we doing?”

“Saving your grandmother.” She slides into the Hummer. I quickly hop into the passenger seat.

She texts on her phone. “I’m filling Matteo in. They were going to take Miloš down tonight, but that’s changed,” she replies curtly.

I’m all adrenaline as Bianca throws the Hummer in gear and punches the gas. Her eyes move like laser beams as she maneuvers the huge vehicle like Mario Andretti.

PIETRO

WE PIVOT OR WE FALL

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