Page 107 of Vows of Blood

My fingers go numb, and words fail me. I set the open folder down in front of me and notice the address printed at the top of the page. My parent’s house. The garage my father built from nothing. Long gone and now owned by someone else.

"I don't understand." It comes out barely above a whisper. "These were foreclosed. The bank took them years ago and resold them."

An uncomfortable pause.

"Luca had me look into it, and it seems they were purchased from the bank approximately six months after the foreclosure," Bruno explains. "By a shell company that, upon investigation, traced back to holdings controlled by Alfonso Calvano."

The room tilts. I grip the edge of the desk to steady myself. Is there no end to how much that man fucking hated me? "He bought them?"

"It appears so. He seemed to be… determined that even if your father got the funds together, he’d never be able to repurchase the property."

Glancing at Luca, he’s still looking out the window, whiskey in hand, shoulders bunched.

Alfonso didn't just destroy my family. He watched and waited, and when our lives fell apart completely, he collected the pieces like trophies. Made sure that even if we somehow clawed our way back, were cleared of arson, supported and helped by our community, that we could never reclaim what was ours.

"The transfer documents will return both properties to your name," Bruno continues. "Free and clear, no liens or encumbrances. You'll also find on the following pages confirmation that your outstanding student loans have been satisfied in full, along with all credit card balances and the remaining balance on your vehicle. A fund has also been transferred into your name with sufficient funds to cover college tuition, rent and a living wage for the duration of your studies."

I flip through the pages in disbelief. There’s nothing but zeros where there used to be crushing debt beneath my name. Years of scraping by, of choosing between groceries and minimum payments, of watching the numbers climb no matter how hard I worked.

Gone, just like that.

"Why?" The word comes out choked, directed at Luca's rigid back.

Bruno clears his throat. "I believe Mr. Calvano wanted to ensure that there were no longer financial considerations or concerns influencing your decisions or weighing on your mind ahead of the big day.”

Luca still refuses to turn, merely taking a sip of his drink as he peers outside, like this is no big deal.

“If there's nothing else, I'll leave you to review the documents. The signature pages are flagged. Call if you have questions." The line goes silent.

Luca clears his throat, head low, with his glass dangling between his fingers at his side, but he still doesn't turn around.

"It's been bothering me. You’ve been through hell, between what my father put you through, what I put you through, the shooting, and then Mikhail…” He straightens and lifts his chin stubbornly. “If you’re only here because you have no choice, I want to release you from that obligation. My issues with my father are not your problems to fix. I will take over, wedding or not."

"Luca—" I stand and take a step closer, wanting to reach out and touch him, but he raises his hand, needing to get whatever else he has to say out.

"I meant what I said." He finally turns to face me. "Once we're married, you’re not leaving me. Right now, against my better judgment, I’m giving you a choice. But once you’re mine, there will be no going back."

I stare at him, at this man who has given me back everything his father stole, including him, but who still thinks I might walk away.

"I don't care about any of this." I wave a hand over the desk, and Luca frowns.

His brow furrows. "Sienna—" Irritated, he steps forward and picks up a page, which I promptly snatch and set down.

"I mean it." Rising up on my tiptoes, I grab the front of his shirt. "This is thoughtful, and generous, but none of it matters any more. I love you. You’re all I want."

His features darkens, and for a second, I think I’ve said something to anger him. But then I see it for what it is.

Not rage. Hunger.

"You're sure?" He crowds me back against the desk.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I want to marry you."

He looms over me, his thumb sliding along my jaw before he tilts my chin up. “That’s not what I meant.”

Replaying what I just said in my mind, it hits me how casually I just tossed out those three words, words I’ve told him before but not since the night before our ill-fated meet-up at the lake house.

“I love you, always have, and always will,” I whisper, rising on my toes to kiss him, amazed that I’m not more nervous about blurting that out before Luca. But any doubts I might have had about him being in the same place disappear when, before I can kiss him, he catches my wrists and spins me around.