Page 20 of Devil's Vows
“Why does he want to meet her?”
“Apparently, he needs a nanny for his kids.”
“You got to be kidding me. Show me the email,” Dominic says.
For a minute, it’s quiet as they sip their coffees, Dominic obviously on Matteo’s phone reading this Petrov’s email. My Russian won’t have small kids. Or would he? He must be in his seventies by now. I have no idea. I don’t even recall his name, but it wasn’t Petrov. That’s an easy name to recall.
“Read between the lines, bro,” Dominic says.
My curiosity piqued, I’m reckless. I step out of the door into the corridor and peek at them over the railing. Dominic is handing Matteo’s phone back.
“Yeah, I have, and I’m not doing that.” Matteo shakes his head. “Fuck, what kind of Don would I be?”
“A better Don than the previous one. Look what the fuckhedid with her.”
Then Matteo glances up, and I meet his gaze. I’m not surprised. This apartment is weird this way. It’s like you can follow everybody’s movements with eyes in the back of your head.
“Woke up with glowing ears and just knew someone was talking about me,” I say, keeping things light.
“Well, fuck us, I suppose,” Dominic mutters under his breath, but I hear him.
“Gabi. Just in time for a coffee?” Matteo says.
I make my way down the stairs, reminding myself I’m the good Catholic convent girl.
It doesn’t take much as I’m already shy, being in my pajamas. At least it has long sleeves, long pants, is made from dark blue cotton, and I have a tank top on underneath with a built-in bra just in case. For the life of me, I couldn’t slip into any of the skimpy silk shorts and camisoles Gigi and Ariana suggested in Lake Como when we did some online shopping. When Stephano saw my purchases, he let slip that I forgot to get the hazmat suit.
They don’t get it. The last thing I want is to attract attention to me, my body, or even being a woman.
“Cappuccino?” Matteo asks when I reach them where they’re standing by the kitchen island.
“Yes, please.” I slip onto one of the barstools.
Dominic’s eyes are on me, and I know what he sees. Someone not ready to go out into the world. Someone who needs to be saved. Someone who can’t fight dragons. I’ve played the sweet innocent to perfection.
“Who’s Petrov?” I ask point-blank, not wasting time.
After two days of brewing ideas, I haven’t gotten any further with an escape plan. Taking a job as a live-in nanny to remove myself from my brothers and their wives would be first prize, provided this guy isn’t my psycho Russian. It would only be temporary, until I have money of my own—cold hard cash not linked to my brothers—and can figure out how to buy myself a new identity and then really disappear without a trace.
“Ivan Petrov,” Dominic says as he opens the fridge and pulls out a fruit salad. “He’s our next-door neighbor, so to speak. The Petrovs have ruled the ports of New York, New Jersey, and some other things for decades.”
Relief spreads warm over my body. New York is far enough from Boston, and if Mother Lucia gave away that I’m in Boston, it will prove to be a dead end. This Petrov sounds local,entrenched in the States for years. If only I could have a visual of him to confirm he isn’tmy Russian…but by the sound of things, there’ll be time for that.
At least Dominic isn’t talking to me like I’m a child, oblivious to the world we’re from and what it entails. During my stay in Lake Como, he dropped several hints as toIl Consiglio’sbusinesses and assets. He must have a sixth sense for this type of thing because I don’t know how he figured it out, but from our first meeting, Dominic treated me as if he knew exactly what I went through since I got torn from this family.
Except he has no clue, and so far, nobody has asked. My nightmares haven’t surfaced, and I’m planning to keep things that way.
“Surely not Mafia?” I ask, wanting to know more.
“Bratva.” Matteo pushes a large cup my way, soft whipped milk floating like a cloud on top. “Our territories don’t overlap, and we don’t trade in the same things, so we live in peaceful harmony with each other. Like grizzlies in winter.”
“In hibernation?” I say with a small smile. “What’s happened to wake you all up, hungry for a fight?”
“Told you she’s sharp,” Dominic says as he slices his gaze to Matteo then shoots me a wink.
Matteo gives a dry chuckle. “Long story?—”
Not for our little sister’s innocent ears,I finish the sentence in my head. “He needs a nanny? You know I’m qualified?” Not as Gabriella Scalera but nobody is going to ask for paperwork from the online course I did. “And I worked at the church’s kindergarten in Potenza?—”
