Page 94 of Savage Vows

He nods, his expression unreadable. “Be ready in the evening,” he says, voice clipped. “We’re going.”

He leaves the kitchen without another word. I stand there, forcing myself to breathe. My hands are shaking. I tell myself it’s because of the fight, the plan, the danger of Portello—but I know it’s more than that.

I still haven’t been brave enough to buy a pregnancy test. I stop in the middle of getting ready to go out, pull out my phone and type a quick message to Bella:Can you grab a couple of tests for me? Please don’t ask, just do it. I’ll explain later.

Almost immediately, Bella calls. I stare at the phone vibrating in my hand, but I don’t answer. I’m not ready to hear the worry in her voice, not ready to put words to the fear in my chest.

I set the phone face down on the counter and make myself focus on the next step. Portello. The case. That’s all I can handle for now.

I try not to think about anything but the plan as I shower and get ready, but my hands shake every time I pull open a drawer. I pick out a black dress that’s safe but still looks like it belongs in a club, even if I hate how it clings to my body. All the clothes in this closet were chosen for me, not by me.

I step out and see Dante waiting by the door, arms crossed, gaze lingering over me with an intensity I try to ignore. He arches a brow. “Are you really going dressed in that?”

I shoot him a sarcastic smile, grabbing my purse. “Won’t you be there to protect me, dear husband?”

I walk past him, but he reaches out and catches my hand, stopping me in my tracks. The air tightens between us, too many things unsaid, the heat rising despite everything we’ve argued about.

He doesn’t let go, his voice low. “You think that’s funny?”

I meet his eyes, chin tilted up. “Well, all my clothes were picked by your family. Not exactly my style, but what do you expect?”

He growls under his breath, jaw tight. “Then burn them all. Tomorrow, I’m taking you shopping. You’re getting clothes that are yours.”

“Promise?” I murmur, the edge of a challenge in my voice.

His eyes darken. “Promise. Now let’s go.”

He lets go of my hand, but not before his thumb brushes slow over my wrist, making it impossible to ignore him.

Oleg pulls up to the curb and unlocks the doors. Dante opens the back door for me, insisting I slide in first. The ride to Portello is tense, city lights flashing past the windows.

Dante sits beside me, arms folded, jaw set. “You really think Remik is behind this?” he says, keeping his voice low enough that Oleg can’t hear.

I glance at him, annoyed. “You don’t?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve known him longer than you. Remik’s an asshole, but he’s loyal.”

I scoff, turning toward the window. “Yeah, because everyone you trust has such a spotless record. I’m sure he’s a real saint.”

He lets out a humorless laugh, leaning closer. “You have a habit of accusing everyone I know.”

I turn in my seat, meeting his stare. “I have a habit of following the facts. Your friend Remik always seems to be nearby when things go sideways. Do you know he was?—”

Dante cuts me off, his tone dry. “Yeah, I know. He was Serrano’s partner too. The same Serrano you took down.”

I turn, stunned. “How did you?—?”

He gives me a look, one corner of his mouth lifting. “I saw you at the club that night. You stood out.”

My heart stutters. “You remember me?”

“Of course,” he says, something dangerous and soft in his voice. “And so does Remik.”

I swallow hard, trying to read his expression. “Is there anything you don’t know about me?”

He glances over, eyes locked on mine for a heartbeat. “I’m still figuring out how far you’ll go for a story. And how much you’re willing to risk.”

I look away, heat rising in my cheeks, the truth of it settling between us as Portello’s lights come into view.