Page 142 of Devil's Vows
A prostitute? Trust men to slot a woman right in there, not knowing her from a bar of soap.
Chiara’s sneaking around fills my mind’s eyes, picking locks, breaking into a convent as if she’d done so a thousand times. She is wise beyond her years, knowing things, trusting her gut. What if she was more than she ever gave away?
“Whatever use they have for her, she’ll be abused, hurt…I can’t—We need to find her because wherever she is, it might lead us to-to—” I break off, not knowing where I’m going with this. “Weneedto find her.Saveher. And I want in on every last lead. No more testing my patience. No more off-limit areas. I want into your network”—I point to Ivan—“and I want into your network.” I point at Matteo, but really including the whole ofIl Consiglio. “I’m the only one here who has seen glimpses into both. With Ariana’s help, we can break this ring.”
We can break Chertnikov.
“I didn’t think for a second that Randazzo’s world had intertwined so tightly with the Chertnikov Bratva, but Gabi is right,” Matteo says, as he drags his hand through his hair. “She is the bridge that links those worlds.”
Life was fairly straightforward for my brothers andIl Consigliowhile I was out of the picture. Now Randazzo is dead, and they’ve been saddled with me, Randazzo’s ‘heiress,’ plus every other business partner he’d ever had who wants their cut of the deals he had going.
But that’s just a part of the story. We’re now bonded in blood, as I, a Scalera, took bullets meant for my husband, a Russian Pakhan, to protect him. There’s signing a contract in ink, and then there’s signing a contract in blood. Nothing can undo what we’ve become to each other.
“Best you come over to my place so we can make our plans,” Ivan says. “We need to move quickly. For too long, I’ve waited to deal with the real problem, focusing on little fires while the bigger blaze got cockier and out of hand.”
My brothers nod, and I heave a soft sigh of relief. Nobody is saying it out loud, but we all know until Chertnikov is dead, none of us are going to be safe or rest easy.
“And yes,moy drakonchik, you get to sit in on every meeting, every call…” He groans as he rests his hand protectively on my arm. “Not on any of the action, I can’t—hell, I won’t survive—” He stalls, emotion breaking his voice as he grips my hand tight. He swallows and nods. “I vow we will take that devil down, even if it’s the last thing we do.”
“Not the last thing we do, my love,” I say, moved by his raw emotion. I squeeze his hand, not keen for more bullets, either. “It’ll be another chapter—one I’d like to see closed sooner rather than later.”
It’s a promise we make in front of my brothers, and as he leans in to seal it with a kiss, I realize who I’ve become: Gabriella Petrova, dragon heart, and Chertnikov’s bait, luring him over land and oceans to his death.
EPILOGUE
IVAN
Our baby boy is fussing—again. I roll onto my side and place my hand on his tiny stomach.
“Hey, little guy,” I whisper as I lean close. “It’s hardly been two hours.”
He stretches his limbs, turns toward me, blue eyes slowing blinking, and opens his mouth. I press the softest of kisses to his head and breathe in his sweet scent.
Gabi hums from the other side of our five-day old son, where she’s still asleep but already tuning in to our baby’s needs.
Alexei Ivanovich Petrov isn’t screaming yet, but he is awake and wanting something. I’ll do whatever I can to give Gabi even two more minutes of sleep, so I gather him in my hands and hold him close to my chest as I stand. He still easily folds back into the bundle he was before birth, legs pulling up to his chest and hands fisting then startling open.
I hug him to my heart, biting back on the emotion flooding me every time I hold my son. Even now, as I slide a fingertip over his knuckles, his soft nails scratching gently against my chest, the wonder of this moment is almost too much. I coo andwhisper to him, trying to keep him calm, even though he is already rooting for a nipple.
I pad over to the window where the fall dawn is shading the horizon in a soft yellow glow. To think we’ve come so far that we don’t bother to close the shutters at night anymore. If we forget to lock the gate at night, I don’t wake up in a cold sweat. The grounds are still patrolled, but things have toned down. My connection withIl Consigliohas paid off, considerably, to the point that I might think life is perfect.
Holding a perfect, strong, beautiful baby in your arms, all ten toes and ten fingers intact, every health test passed with the highest score, is the purest blessing. Add to that a simply gorgeous wife who is sliding into motherhood as if she’s been waiting for it all her life, and I’m counting myself the luckiest man alive.
Behind me, Gabriella stirs, and as if Alexei can sense his mommy is on to him, he starts complaining a bit more. I rock him gently, but he already knows where the good stuff comes from.
Soft, warm hands slide up my back, and I smile. She loves sneaking up on me. I close my eyes, holding my son even closer, as she presses kisses up my spine.
“I love watching you with him,” she murmurs against my back as she circles her hands around my waist.
For a moment, we just stand like this, as light spills ever brighter into the room, almost as if God is blessing this day, this moment—us. It’s one I will remember forever.
“Here,” I whisper as I turn to her with a chuckle that’s desperately trying to hide the emotion stuck in my throat. “Little guy is on the hunt.”
She smiles at me. “Would hate to disappoint him so early in the day.” She gathers him to her, and the look on her face as she stares down at him makes me bite the inside of my cheek. Fuck, it must be the exhaustion. Not sure whyI’mcomplaining…Ididn’t do anything and here is Gabi, taking it in her stride.
Fuck, she’s so beautiful. She’s also mine, and every day with her is more than I ever deserved.
She goes on her toes to press a kiss to my lips, and for a brief second, we keep each other trapped with nothing else but this promise of love that we seal first thing every morning. I want to hold her close, deepen the kiss…always wanting more, but for now, I’m playing second fiddle.
