Page 24 of Devil's Vows

“Nothing we do is for fun, as you well know,” Dominic says, looking me dead in the eye before he drops his gaze to his phone, scrolling for a number.

“Would be nice if you could apologize, you know, to clear the air,” I say, pushing him.

“Fuck that shit,” he grunts, supposedly under his breath.

“Two times now, Papa!” Irisha chimes in. “That’s two dollars in the jar!”

At this, Dominic cracks a real smile. “Uh huh? Two dollars?” he says as he quirks a brow at Irisha. “At this rate,Il Consigliowill be broke in weeks, given what we’re like on a good day.” He meets my gaze. “My apologies for the language and all that. Not exactly used to having kids around or meddling outsiders in our house.”

I nod, acknowledging his roundabout apology. Boryslav fucked around and found out. Now he’s dead and that’s serious, but we’re all adult enough here to prefer to keep the status quo and not start a full-on war because of one idiot. “We’re good.”

“Good,” he says as he dials, and with his eyes on me says, “It’s fine, you can come on over. Nobody else is here. It’s safe.”

“Okay,malyshki,” I say as I put Katya on the ground and loosen Irisha’s grip on my T-shirt. For all that they’re cute and full of beans, little things still give away the trauma of being ripped away from me for months. I crouch down to speak to them eye to eye, keeping my voice breezy and happy. “There’s a girl coming over now, and we’re going to see if she’s a good fit to come help look after you, okay?”

Two pairs of matching blue eyes stare at me, suddenly uncertain. They deal better with someone coming to the house and helping out, happy in their own environment, but this interview process is different. I didn’t want to have the meeting at home, careful in case something else could be at play here—something I’m not even aware of yet.

“She’s playing with us?” Irisha asks, and I could kick myself, using words that make things complicated.

“That’s right,malyshka. Let’s see if she plays nicely.” I brush her curls from her face, and when she shrugs, I smile. “Go play.”

Irisha reaches for Katya’s hand, and together, they run to the jungle gym. As I straighten up, a man appears through the hedge. I recognize him immediately from the one photo Yuriwas able to source. He’s Matteo Scalera. The Don and head ofIl Consiglio.

By his side is a girl—no, awoman. A beautiful, breathtaking woman, with soft doe eyes and lashes bare of mascara because she doesn’t need it.

She looks up.

Our gazes clash.

My breath catches.

She glances down, demurely, but her eyes trail down my tall frame, that sweet blush deepening. When she meets my gaze again, it’s as if she’s dropped a heavy bag, heaving a surreptitious but relieved sigh. She smiles softly at me, and then her gaze darts to Irisha and Katya where one is scrambling up the slide, the other calling out. As she turns, the thick tresses of her chestnut hair which she gathered in a ponytail sway and brush over her breast.

I don’t look at Matteo Scalera. I don’t acknowledge whatever Dominic is saying. I’m too taken by her as she hides two balloon animals behind her back and approaches my girls. Perfect. She’s fucking perfect, already knowing exactly how to engage with my little princesses.

And way too pretty for the likes of me.

She isn’t tall, as her head barely reaches her brother’s shoulder, and dressed in wide-legged jeans and a simple black button-down, loose over a black tank top, she gives off solid responsible-mommy vibes. Everything she’s wearing tries to hide her body, but somehow, it only makes me imagine more—her full breasts, my hands circling her waist and sliding down to her curvy hips, fingers getting busy with unzipping those pants.

It’s a spark I didn’t expect. This woman isn’t only stunning but totally fuckable, too. I don’t feel old, but she looks so freaking young beyond the attempt to hide her age…but I bet she’d also be wet and needy, ripe for my plucking.

“Are you listening, Petrov? You fuck with that, we fuck you up.”

Dominic’s voice drills into my head.

Is that so?Time for checkmate.

“I’ll send over your personalized swear jar, Nicky,” I say with a shrug. “My girls have made one for every person in our house. I bet Ariana—or do you call her Emilia?—wouldn’t mind soaping out your mouth before you have her knocked up. Imagine your baby’s first word isfuck.”

From the way Dominic’s eyes fill with incredulity, that hit home. It isn’t an idle threat. They might beIl Consiglio,but I’m the head of the Petrov Bratva. I’ve got them in a chokehold, and now they know it.

13

GABI

It isn’t my Russian. The relief seems to zing through me, even if the notion was totally ridiculous. This irrational fear brewed in me over the past week as Matteo and Dominic set up the meeting with Petrov. Now the tension seeps out of me and it’s almost palpable, rippling over my skin.

When we walked over, I spotted him immediately. Dominic might be staring at Petrov, but Petrov’s eyes are on his two girls as they clamber onto the jungle gym.