Page 72 of Dangerous Vows

When I wake, I’m in bed, and the scent of antiseptic hangs like a thick cloud around me.

Sarah sits beside me, her brows furrowed in concern. “Jesus, Amara. What the hell happened?”

I try to sit up, but the pain shoots through my ribs like fire.

She presses me back down. “Easy. What the hell happened to you?” Her face grows white, and I know she’s scared for me.

I lick my dry lips. “I need to get out of here, and I need a job.”

She blinks. “A job? You have a job.” She’s looking at me like I’m talking crazy talk, and perhaps I am.

I’m helpless. But I will continue to fight. I have to.

“I need…” I swallow. My throat is raw. “Something. I need somewhere to go. To be…” My voice fades as I groan. I clutch my stomach. I’m weak, and my lips are parched.

She exhales, brushing hair from my face. She hands me a glass of water. “We’ll figure it out. But right now? You need to drink, and you need to go to the hospital.”

“I can’t. I’m pregnant and I don’t have any money. I have to hide.”

I stare at the ceiling, sobbing uncontrollably, waiting for the inevitable to happen.

Because now, it’s only a matter of time.

Miloš will come for me.

And when he does, I’ll be alone.

PIETRO

THIS ISN’T OVER

Ifeel like shit.

It’s a rare feeling for me—guilt. Remorse. I can count the times I’ve felt it on one hand and still have fingers left over. But tonight, it sits in my chest like lead, pressing, heavy, and I’m suffocating under it.

“She loves you, Pietro. You’d be an idiot not to notice the covert glances you two share that are charged with sexual tension. She’s good for you. You deserve to be happy,” Matteo says. I called him on my way into work.

He’s right, as usual. I noticed. Of course, I fucking noticed. I felt it in every look and every shiver when I got too close. I noticed how she sharply inhaled whenever I murmured something obscene in her ear. It turned me on to see her reaction.

And I still let my stubborn pride come between me and the woman I possess.

I caved. I’m desperate to keep her safe. I want this baby, and I want Amara to be happy and safe. I just want to see her smile again, damn it.

I blame my fucked-up life, and the fact I’m so damaged as the reason why I blew us up. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism, to make her leave me so I wouldn’t have to admit I cared for her, because I knew beingalone was safer.

I’ve played it safe my entire life. But Amara is different. She’s sassy and sweet. And—she’s too good for me.

Father said love makes us weak. Perhaps that’s why he pushed Mom down the steps.

Despite my issues, I’m keenly aware that something is off tonight. I’m standing in the middle of the club when a movement to my left catches my attention. He’s a mafia soldier, not ours, and he’s wearing a trench coat. He’s not here to dance. He’s here to stir shit up.

I scan the main dance floor and the bar, only to find more men like him. Men who don’t belong. They try to blend in—but they can’t hide who they are from me.

Their eyes are fixed on the exits, and they refuse to meet my gaze. My dark world surrounds me.

Yeah, something’s about to go down. My stomach twists—and then it hits me. I haven’t seen Amara tonight.

And if she’s not here…

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