Page 42 of Bound in Promise

“No,” Dante replies harshly. “There’s a code word.”

And he whispers the word into my ear, branding me with it as he kisses a path down my chest and over my heart. I let him distract me with our need, giving myself over in silent thanks that he is determined to make sure my dreams survive the Lombardi mob.

But how will I ever survive losing my husband?

14

DANTE

Saturday, October 5

“It’s all ready for you. I’m just getting the housing sorted, but it’ll be settled by the time you land.”

Thank fucking God. I’ve been tense since Thursday, waiting for Angelo to make his move. Against my better judgement, I allowed Victoria to convince me to ignore his summons to dinner. I know the man is plotting his revenge—he can’t possibly leave the insult unanswered. Our best bet is to get the hell out of here, pronto.

I stare at the wooded backyard where my nephew is buried in an unmarked grave. Getting him out of the garage would have been too risky. All the neighbors have doorbell cameras or are constantly outside fucking around with their landscaping, so I took the next best option.

The kid will always be a missing person.

And I haven’t even told Marissa yet. Probably never will.

She can blame Angelo for his disappearance for all I care. I’ve gotten several calls and teary voicemails from her about Liam not coming home or answering his phone, but my response is always the same—he probably left her behind.

And he did.

The only reason I answered her call the first time was to avoid looking suspicious.

“I appreciate you,” I tell my old friend. Enzo came the fuck through and I owe him my life. “I’ll contact you shortly to pick up?—”

“It’s already done, brother,” he mutters solemnly. “Check your mailbox.”

I’m only slightly shocked. Enzo is a living, breathing shadow.

“When are you getting to the airstrip?” he asks, drawing me back into the present.

“As soon as we can. You remember the backup plan?”

“I’ll be prepared.” There’s a weighty pause and I can hear the drumming of fingers as Enzo considers his next words. “You still haven’t told me when we’re moving on the old man.”

Angelo.

As long as he’s breathing, Victoria will be in danger.

“The moment the money drops,” I divulge, dreading the moment that we’ve been waiting for. When the plan gains momentum and Victoria’s new life begins. When ours ends. “We’ll do it that night.”

“The sooner the better. It’s been a minute.”

I can hear the hungry note in his voice. Most addicts get high on what they can snort or shoot up with, but Enzo gets his hits from blood and men’s screams. And it sounds like he’s in withdrawal.

“You’ll get the first stab, brother,” I promise, the words accompanying the soft shhh sound of the glass door sliding open behind me. Without even looking, I know that Victoria has joined me on the deck.

Enzo releases a dark chuckle. “I’ll take it. We’ll talk soon, brother.”

And then he hangs up and I turn to find my wife beaming up at me. Her face is filled with sunshine and hope, like I just told her this was all a dream and she doesn’t need to leave the States after all.

“It happened.”

I stare at her, cataloging every detail and filing it away in my memory for the millionth time. She’s dressed in a beige two-piece, exposing a slice of torso between a long-sleeve sweater and baggy pants that look both fashionable and comfortable, like pajamas. A clear giveaway as to how relaxed Victoria feels near me, the outfit is nothing but an instrument of torture, taunting the living fuck out of my cock.