Page 98 of My Solemn Vow

Father Michael’s coffee is pooling in the pot. I cross the kitchen and grab one of the composting travel cups that Winnieinsists are better for the environment, since I can’t seem to keep track of reusable ones, and bring it to him.

He pours a cup and asks, “Sugar?”

“Brown or white?” I ask, headed to the pantry.

“White. You young people and your coffee, making it too fancy.” Father Michael scoffs. When I come back with the container and a spoon for him, he mixes his drink before looking at me with a distinctive set to his mouth and pitying eyes. “Neil is adamant that it was your new bride who gave them the information about your whereabouts.”

“If Antonella informed them of my whereabouts and the D’Medicis are trying to strike the pack where it hurts, wouldn’t they have waited until I had Kerrianne in the vehicle? Take out an entire path to succession? It would move to Royal then rather than him caring for the pack until she’s of age. It’s the easiest path to take.” I question the logic of it. I know I should be rebutting against Dad and Neil directly, but the man of God is here, and it’s the best I can do.

Father Michael bobbles his head, considering it before attempting to draw a sip of too-hot coffee. He stops himself before burning his mouth. “That’s a very good point.”

“What bothers me about the day the truce was called is one thing I don’t have eyes on.” I add the suspicion I haven’t spoken before. “We’re believing that Berto D’Medici managed to take down a fully trained, highly armed wolf?”

“Well.” Father Michael pauses and furrows his brow. “Was there proof he acted alone? Perhaps if there were several of them or he got the drop on Sean somehow.”

“It may be nothing, but it’s been bothering me. I watched the footage from Kerrianne’s school. Antonella isn’t half assed in her defense of Kerrianne. It didn’t seem scripted in the slightest.” I defend her outright, but the longer it sits in my brain... the more uncertainty brews.

Could she have called the truce and regretted it?

“Kerrianne has nearly fourteen years before she can rule. That’s plenty of opportunities to take her out of the running. Maybe the D’Medicis have a greater plan we don’t know about, and even if Antonella acted on her own and called the truce, we all know women can be softer for children. She called the truce against her family’s wishes and, as a result, is paying atonement by feeding them information on your movements.” Father Michael voices what feels so unlikely to me.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. It is possible. I don’t like it, but it is possible.

This evening has turned from fun and lighthearted to a chaotic nightmare of what-ifs that come with an infinite number of conclusions.

“It may be that only God knows. Stay sharp until we can learn more.” Father Michael heads toward the door.

I follow him, showing him out before locking up behind him.

Mind reeling, I head upstairs. Antonella isn’t at the top of the staircase. But I find her pulling back the covers on the bed.

43

ANTONELLA

NO ONE LIKES CONFRONTATION

“Outside of Leticia I haven’t talked to a single D’Medici since we got married.” Bed stripped, there’s nothing for me to do with my hands but stand here and stare at him, ready to defend myself. “You can check my text messages. I’m sure you could tell if there was a new device connecting to something or other in your house.”

Valor doesn’t move, hardly even blinking.

I grab my phone off the nightstand and throw it onto his side of the bed, shrugging. “I don’t know what Neil is telling everyone or why he’d be saying something like that, but we’ve been married almost two weeks. I hadn’t even been comfortable enough to do more than text Leticia, let alone ask to see her.”

“I know.” Valor’s statement does nothing to help with my own defense.

With a small sigh, I climb into bed and lie down, looking at the ceiling before closing my eyes. “Valor, what do you really want?”

The bed dips next to me, and I roll my head and open my eyes to see that he’s sitting beside me, offering my phone back.I take it from him and unceremoniously toss it onto the nightstand. Fuck it. I don’t need it. Let the damn thing die.

Valor rolls his eyes, stands up, and walks around the bed. I track his movements and watch as he picks my phone up and plugs it in. He sets it down with much more patience than I did and then looks down at me. The flat irritation is gone and there’s a fire back in his eyes. Not the fun fire though.Anger.

“How would you explain the bullets? The timing?” Valor furrows his brow.

He bends toward me and wraps his hand around my throat.

What the fuck?Instinct has me wanting to struggle, but I force myself still, conserving energy. I blink up at him, waiting for him to start choking me, but his hand rests there, and in the span of at least thirty seconds, he starts running his thumb up and down the column of my neck.

“Valor, I’m not working with the D’Medicis. I don’t have a death wish. Period.” I swallow and can feel the weight of his hand against my throat. “I don’t know what’s going on.”