THE DEVIL'S LAST VOW

CHAPTER 2

My heart hammered against my ribs. Another pair of footsteps entered the room.

Slower.

Heavier.

"Untie her." The first man hesitated.

"Sir—"

"Did I stutter?"

The rope around my wrists loosened.

I opened my eyes.

The first thing I saw was a black suit. The second was a pair of polished shoes. The third was the man standing several feet away.

He wasn't the same stranger. He was younger.

Maybe early thirties. Dark hair. Sharp features. Calm eyes.

He looked at me like I was a problem he had already decided how to solve.

"Who are you?" I asked.

He didn't answer.

I pushed myself upright. My head spun. "Where am I?"

Still nothing.

"Look, whoever you are, kidnapping people is usually considered a crime." The man beside him laughed.

The stranger in the suit didn't.

His eyes remained on me. "Mara Vale."

The way he said my name made my stomach twist. "You know my name."

"I know who you are."

"That's not reassuring."

"No."

He stepped closer.

I instinctively moved backward. He noticed.

Something changed in his expression. Not softness. Something more complicated.

"You received a message tonight." I stared at him.

"Which one?"

"The one about your father." My chest tightened.

"How do you know about that?"

He looked toward the other men.

"Leave." They hesitated.

"Now."

One by one, they walked out.

The door closed behind them. We were alone.

I looked at the man in front of me. "Who are you?"

He finally answered. "Dante Moretti."

Every part of me went cold. The video. My father's warning.

The name. Dante.

I stood too quickly. The room tilted. Dante caught my arm before I fell.

His hand was warm. Firm. For one strange second, neither of us moved. His eyes dropped to where his hand held my arm.

Then he released me. "Sit down."

"I'd rather stand."

"You almost fell."

"I'll survive."

"I know."

There was something irritatingly calm about him.

I rubbed my wrist. "My father told me not to trust you."

Dante's expression didn't change.

"Your father was right." I blinked.

That was not the answer I expected. "You kidnapped me."

"I didn't."

"You were there."

"I arrived after you were taken."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?"

"No."

He glanced toward the door. "I'm the reason you're still alive."

I laughed once. It wasn't because anything was funny. "You expect me to believe that?"

"No."

"Then what do you expect?"

"Nothing."

He walked toward a metal table and picked up a bottle of water.

He placed it in front of me. "You need to drink."

I stared at it.

"You could have poisoned it."

"I could have."

"You see why I don't trust you?"

"I never asked you to." I hated how reasonable he sounded. I grabbed the bottle anyway.

The water was cold.

I drank half of it before realizing how thirsty I was.

Dante watched silently. Then he said, "Your father left something behind."

I lowered the bottle. "What?"

"We don't know."

"Then why did you say he left something?"

"Because three different groups are looking for it.".

My fingers tightened around the bottle. "What is it?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't need you." I stared at him.

"Why me?"

"Because whatever Victor left behind was connected to you."

"My father barely told me anything."

"I know."

"How?" His jaw tightened.

That tiny reaction told me more than his words. "You knew him."

Dante said nothing.

"You knew my father."

"I knew of him."

"That's not what I asked."

He looked at me. "I knew him."

The room seemed to shrink.

"How?"

"That's a conversation for another time."

"There might not be another time."

"There will be."

"You sound very sure."

"I am."

A sudden crash came from outside.

Dante immediately turned toward the door. His entire body changed. The calm man disappeared.

His hand moved beneath his jacket.

A gun.Y

My breath caught.

"Stay behind me."

"What?"

"Now."

Another crash. Then shouting.,

Dante opened the door.

Two men were running down the corridor. One stopped when he saw Dante.

"Boss."

"What happened?"

"They found us."

Dante's face hardened. "How many?"

"Six. Maybe more."

"Get Mara out."

The man looked at me.

"Where?"

Dante's eyes moved to him. "Somewhere they won't look."

"And you?"

"I'll handle it."

"No."

Dante turned toward me. I wasn't sure why I had said it.

Maybe fear. Maybe anger. Maybe because I suddenly realized that the only person between me and the men hunting me was the man my father had told me to fear.

"You don't get to decide what happens to me," I said.

His eyes narrowed. "This isn't the time."

"It's never the time with you."

"Mara."

"Don't."

For the first time, something almost human crossed his face. Frustration.

"You have no idea what's happening."

"Then tell me."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because you're not ready."

I stepped closer. "Stop deciding what I'm ready for."

His eyes held mine.

For a moment, the shouting outside disappeared.

Then a gunshot cracked through the corridor.

Dante moved instantly. He grabbed my waist and pulled me behind him.

Another shot.

The man beside the door fired back. I froze.,

Dante looked over his shoulder. "Are you hurt?"

I shook my head.

"Good."

He turned back. Then the lights went out. Someone screamed.

Gunfire exploded through the darkness.

Dante grabbed my hand. "Run."

I didn't argue. We ran.

My shoes slipped against the concrete floor as we rushed through a narrow hallway.

I could hear men shouting behind us.

Dante never let go of my hand. We reached a steel door. He pulled it open. Cold rain hit my face.

Outside.

We were behind an old warehouse.

A black car waited nearby.

Dante pushed me toward it. "Get in."

I stopped. "No."

His expression turned dangerously calm. "Mara."

"You said you would tell me what's happening."

"I will."

"When?"

"When you're safe."

"I'm not getting into a car with a stranger." His eyes hardened.

"I'm not a stranger anymore."

"That's exactly what scares me."

Something flickered in his expression. Then he opened the passenger door.

"Fine." He stepped back.

"You can stay here." I stared at him.

He looked completely serious. "You'll be dead in less than five minutes."

I hated him. I hated the way he spoke. I hated the way he was probably right. I got into the car.

Dante closed the door.

Seconds later, he was behind the wheel.

The engine roared. We sped away.

For several minutes, neither of us spoke.

Rain blurred the windows.

I watched the city disappear behind us.

Finally, I asked, "Where are you taking me?"

"My house." I turned toward him.

"Absolutely not."

"It's protected."

"So is a prison."

"Your apartment isn't safe."

"How do you know?"

"Because the people who attacked you tonight already knew where you lived." I fell silent.

He glanced at me. "They'll come again."

"What happens if I don't go with you?"

"They'll find you."

"And if I stay with you?" His eyes met mine briefly.

"Then they'll have to get through me first." The words were simple.

But something about the way he said them made my chest tighten.

I looked away. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you protecting me?"

Dante didn't answer immediately.

The car continued through the rain.

Then he said quietly, "Because your father asked me to."

I stared at him. "My father asked you?"

"Before he died."

The world seemed to stop.

"You spoke to him before he died?"

"Yes."

"How long before?"

Dante's hands tightened around the steering wheel. "Three days."

My breath caught.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Because Victor didn't want you to know."

"Why?"

He looked at me. "Because he knew you would come looking for answers."

"And?"

"And the answers would get you killed."

I stared through the windshield.

My father's last words played inside my head. Don't trust the Morettis.

But now I had another problem.

Because the man driving beside me was the only person who seemed to know the truth.

And I had a terrible feeling that the truth about my father was going to destroy everything I thought I knew.

Dante's phone rang.

He answered. "What?"

Luca's voice came through.

"We have another problem." Dante's expression darkened.

"What?"

"They found the warehouse."

"How?"

"We're checking."

Dante's eyes moved toward me.

Then Luca said something that made his face change completely. I couldn't hear the words. But I saw Dante's fingers tighten around the steering wheel.

"What did you say?"

A pause.

Then Dante said quietly, "Don't touch anything."

He ended the call.

"What happened?" I asked.

He didn't answer.

"Dante." His jaw clenched.

"Someone broke into your apartment."

My heart stopped. "What?"

"They weren't looking for you."

"Then what were they looking for?"

Dante looked at me.

And for the first time since I met him, I saw genuine fear in his eyes.

"Your father's photograph." I stared at him.

"What photograph?"

"The one you were given tonight." My blood turned cold. I slowly reached into my jacket.

The photograph was gone. Dante saw my expression.

"Where is it?"

"I—I don't know." He slammed the brakes.

The car stopped in the middle of the empty road.

He turned toward me. "Mara."

"I had it."

"When?"

"At the warehouse."

"Think."

"I don't know!" He stared at me for several seconds.

Then his phone vibrated. He looked at the screen.

A message.

His face went completely still.

"What?"

He turned the phone toward me. There was one photograph.

A picture of us.

Taken only minutes earlier. Inside the car.

The message underneath contained five words.

WE KNOW WHERE YOU ARE.

Dante looked at me.

Then toward the dark road ahead.

His voice was barely a whisper. "They followed us."



And somewhere behind us, in the rain, headlights appeared.