Page 143 of Vow Of Fire

I guessed, in a way, I understood why he was pulling away. His family was at war, and things were getting messy. He needed to focus on what was happening out there, not on me. Not on a woman he’d had a brief but passionate affair with and didn’t need anymore.

That part had been true. My role was over. I’d played my part and now he and his ruthless family had no more use for me. Apparently, that meant in his bed as well as to bring down Los Santos Rotos.

He’d told me I couldn’t leave because it was dangerous, but that was a lie. I knew the real reason was because I was a liability.

I knew things. Dangerous things.

If I took my “inside” information to Malakov or to the cops, I could make life extremely difficult for the Marcellis.

It was tempting, I had to admit. But I was all too aware of how swift their punishment would be. I doubted I’d survive a second time.

Besides, how could I betray Dante?

The man I loved.

I gasped as the realization smashed into me with the force of a wrecking ball. At some point during this wild, crazy journey, I’d fallen head over heels for my broody, emotionally stunted, yet impossibly gorgeous captor.

Being with Dante was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. It wasn’t just the orgasms, although he was extremely good at providing those, it was the intensity in his gaze when he looked at me. The heat that spread over me when we kissed. The utter joy I felt when he was buried deep inside me, like he belonged there.

A sob caught in my throat. Damn it. How could I have fallen for the one man I despised more than anything else in the world? The man who’d ruined my life, destroyed my career, wrecked everything I’d built up over the years. It was so… inconvenient.

When Kyle glanced in the rear-view mirror, I cleared my throat and tried to appear normal.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, thanks. Just don’t want to be late.” I glanced at my watch. We had plenty of time.

The display blurred in front of my eyes.

Shit. The watch he’d given me.

The gold chain-link strap glinted in the early morning light that shone through the SUV’s window. The pale face glowed softly up at me. Mocking me.

It was beautiful. I hated it.

I regretted not hurling it at his head.

“I’ll get you there on time,” Kyle reassured me, breaking into a smile. I blinked, momentarily forgetting what we were talking about. “We won’t keep Il Lupo waiting.”

Leo lived in a restored limestone townhouse on the Upper East Side overlooking a quiet, tree-lined street. There were no wrought-iron gates or electric fences. No winding driveway or mansion, as I would have expected from a retired mafia don.

“This is where he lives?” I stared out of the window. It was luxurious, but elegant. Though there were definitely security cameras. They were placed discreetly, but not out of sight. A deterrent to prospective invaders, maybe?

Two armed guards stood outside the front of the house, and I imagined that with what was going on right now, there would be more at the back. They stared wordlessly at the street, their muscular frames tense and alert.

Kyle exchanged a nod with one of the guards outside before leading me up the front steps.

“I’ll wait in the vehicle,” he told me. “Take your time.”

“Thanks, Kyle.”

A dark-haired woman in her mid-forties, wearing a neat pantsuit with stylish court shoes, her hair tied back in a chic bun, opened the door before I’d even knocked. I froze, my hand suspended in midair.

“Miss Cruz,” she said matter-of-factly, her gaze darting to the security guards and then Kyle, who had gotten back into the SUV and was watching me through the window before finally settling back on me. “I’m Giselle, the house manager. Mr. Marcelli is expecting you.”

She didn’t look like any housekeeper I’d ever seen. More like a corporate bodyguard, and I was sure that was a gun-shaped bulge under her blazer, but I nodded politely and followed her in.

The interior was breathtaking. Unlike Dante’s hotel-like suite with its sleek masculinity and modern edges, Leo’s home felt lived in. It was warm, with rich walnut paneling lining the walls and enormous oil paintings hanging beneath antique brass sconces.