Page 8 of Devil's Vows
I quietly beg her to say nothing of the Russian.
After a few seconds, he nods. “You don’t need to worry about Franco Fiore anymore. I believe he has been, uh…neutralized, but I understand why you are cautious. Nobody will know we’re in Lake Como. Nobody knows about our connection with the family there and we’ll keep it that way. Once we’re in America, things should cool off.”
Franco Fiore neutralized… Like indead? How does he know? If this is true, I have one less villain to worry about.
“Thank you.” Mother Lucia pushes the tote in my direction, breaking through my thoughts. “The best time to walk out of the convent unnoticed would be at midday prayer, which is soon.”
I reach for the tote and stare at the everyday student clothes: jeans, a T-shirt, a dull blonde wig with outgrown roots.It looks so real, so different from my usual look, nobody would take me for the girl who used to wear standard-edition convent wear.
“We’ll wait outside,” Ariana says and has Dominic by the hand.
As soon as the door closes behind them, I turn my back to Mother Lucia to change my clothes. She comes over and helps me place the wig.
“I hardly recognize you,” she says as she steps away. “And praise the Lord for that. I’ll walk you out to the side gate. Nobody should be there this time of day.”
It hits me I’m saying goodbye to her. My stand-in mother for fifteen years, who looked after me as if I were her own, who protected me with every fiber of her being, always putting me first. Who knows when I’ll see her again? Love for her balloons in my chest. Everything she’s done for me goes beyond being just a mom to a lost girl who got served a convent sentence for being born to the wrong man.
Mother Lucia wraps me in a tight hug, and I cling a moment longer. I’ll be in her debt forever.
“I’ll call,” I whisper to her. “As soon as I can.”
“No. Please don’t,” she whispers back. “I trust Dominic and no news is good news. For one last time, run and leave no tracks. Whatever you do, don’t make new ones.”
I stiffen in her arms as her words give me pause. No trace. Nothing to put that Russian, Franco Fiore—neutralized or not—or any of Randazzo’s other henchmen on my scent. Nothing that could link the convent in Potenza to the States and the Scaleras.
She knows something she isn’t sharing. What if they still come despite every last precaution?
I nod with a swallow as I pull away. America might not be far enough away to run from my past. From my scripted future.Randazzo might be dead, making all vows null and void, but things in our world aren’t exactly black and white. They’re smeared red with blood promises only my death could truly break.
Only time will tell, but I might not be done running yet.
5
IVAN
The switchblade becomes an extension of my hand, my thumb pressing the button to make the blade pop out, back in, and out.
It’s unnerving. On purpose. The three men in front of me shuffle on their feet, but their legs are chained, so it’s more like they are shifting their weight from one foot to the other as their eyes track my every move. Still nervous as fuck. Rightly so.
Most probably begging for it to be over.
These boys have fucked with me long enough, and these are the last dregs of the mess from July that I still need to sweep off deck. To think they plotted to get away like this. A pity I can’t send them as a message to their operator. Still, sometimes, no news is bad news, and them not arriving at their destination will be message enough.
I glance to my right and left where Kostya and Igor are on standby with automatic rifles. I like things more old school. A slit to the throat is much more likely to bleed out than a bullet wound. I’m not taking those chances. These guys must be double dead by the time I’m done with them.
Flick in, flick out. Flick in, flick out.
Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.
“Want to tell me who your operator is?” These men are beyond talking, yet it’s worth one last try. They’ve been asked nicely, and clues are leading to suspicions, but I’d like to have a name.
“Chertnikov?” I push when nobody says a thing. Right. It’s hard to speak when you don’t have a tongue. We threw those overboard a few minutes ago, to attract the right crowd. Sharks are always on standby when blood hits the water, and tonight, they’re going to feast.
With a sigh, I step up to the first man. This is the problem with such a layered operation. These are just footmen who only know who is in charge in the tier right above them. There are so many layers, I’d have to hack my way through all of them to learn who their ringleader and ultimately the Pakhan behind this shitshow is. It tracks to Chertnikov, but time will tell.
I grunt another sigh. It’s almost midnight, and I’d like to get the fuck home before my girls wake up. They’re with Yuri, and I’d hate for them to wake up and I’m not there. Not when they so recently returned home.
“You know what the benefit of being a stowaway is?” I ask, tired of the whole business.
