Page 77 of Vows of Blood

I just saw the news. WHAT THE FUCK.

Is this real? Are you actually engaged to Luca Calvano??

Your landlord says you moved out?? MOVED OUT??? What is happening?!

Then, a link and screenshot of a short online news report, hastily thrown together when Maeve’s message landed.

There's a story saying Kate's mother is THRILLED to hear about the engagement. "Sienna is a wonderful young woman, and we couldn't be happier for Luca, who is a dear family friend."

Quickly followed by a link to an old newspaper article about how the Calvano family has evaded authorities for years but is still suspected of being heavily involved in arms dealing, money laundering and numerous murders across the Midwest.

Heading back to my room to get into something more comfortable, I stop walking in the middle of the foyer, staring at the screen.

How is this out already? I wince as the next message pops up.

OH MY GOD. Where are you?? I need proof of life.

I need to call her, but first, some twisted part of me that’s a glutton for punishment wants to see what’s being said about me in my group chats.

Opening my messages, I search for the college group chat, the one that was looking for all the gossip when the first pictures of me outside the restaurant hit the news.

It's not there.

Frowning, I scroll back further. We've had that group for years. Hundreds of messages, study sessions, and commiserations over failed classes. It can't just be gone.

I go into my contacts instead, typing Jake's name into the search bar. We were only messaging last week about a project we’re working on together.

No results.

My fingers move faster now, a cold dread settling in my stomach.

Adam, from the clinic two towns over, whom I'd been planning to ask about work experience.

Nothing.

Ben, Rebecca's brother, who helped me move into my apartment.

Gone.

David, the jerk with the restaurant contacts I might need again when all this ends.

Vanished.

I scroll through the full list, watching the names fly past. Every single male contact has been erased.

For a long moment, I just stare at the screen, convinced this has to be a joke, but as I watch Luca’s straight back continue down the hall, I know this is no prank.

Indignant rage builds up inside me as I cross the foyer in quick, furious strides and hurry down the corridor after him.

He enters his study and closes the door behind him, but I’m there in mere seconds, not bothering to knock, just shoving open the door hard enough that it bangs against the wall.

Luca looks up from behind his desk as he lowers himself into a buttery soft leather chair, phone pressed to his ear, with one eyebrow raised at my entrance. He holds up a finger, but he may as well be waving a red rag at a bull.

"Problem?" Luca asks, entirely too casual.

"You deleted my contacts,” I grit out. “How fucking dare you.”

Thrusting my practically obsolete phone in his direction, I rest one hand on his desk and stare down at him.