Page 69 of His Savage Vow
My stomach drops as his words sink in. My head pounds and vision blurs thanks to my concussion. Another betrayal, standing here smiling like he’s proud of himself.
“You sold him out,” I snap. “You soldall of usout you son of a bitch, so you could keep lining your pockets. My father died for your profit margins!”
My father who used to joke on my past three birthdays about wanting to be a grandfather. He would tell me,“Another year older, and still no grandkids? I’m not rushing you, sweetheart. Just hurry up before I’m too old to remember all of their names.”
That’s one more thing the bastards took from me. From him. My son or daughter will never know the man who loved and raised me.
Salvatore’s gaze sharpens on me, and then he smirks, like he’s been waiting for me to speak. “Ah, Constance Monroe. You’re every bit as beautiful as I was told. Such a tragedy, what happened to your father. But surely, you must see that you set this whole war in motion. Your father’s death was an accident, but everything you’ve done to avenge him has been very intentional, and very disruptive. The Volkovs made a mistake and exposed themselves with their carelessness.”
He goes on, voice smooth as silk while my fists clench at my sides. “I’ll arrange a meeting, Maximo, between you and the Volkovs. I’ll mediate the discussions, and we’ll come to terms. This has to end with words, or it ends with all of us buried. Think carefully on which outcome you’d prefer.”
And then, just like that, he’s gone, his cologne hanging heavy in the air to mark his passage.
Maximo stands silent by my bed, his shoulders tense, expression unreadable as he stares at the empty doorway. Foronce, he looks shaken. Lost. I know how he feels. The wordpregnanthas rattled me to my core, but this isn’t the time to bring it up.
I reach out to touch his arm, trying to ground him. My hand slips down to his, and I squeeze, even though the effort makes the pounding in my head spike to a roar.
I lick my dry lips. “No,” I say, firmly. “Don’t listen to him, Maximo. Not after everything they’ve done. My father. Enzo. Luca. All of them. This doesn’t end with peace.”
He looks down at me, his dark eyes sunken and exhausted. I know he’s considering it, weighing the cost of continuing this war for vengeance, or letting himself be forced into peace with the Russians.
And I know what I want to choose. “Only blood pays for blood,” I whisper.
Maximo nods slowly, and I see his jaw clench as he comes to a decision. “Blood for blood,” he agrees, squeezing my hand.
36
Maximo
A few minutesafter Salvatore leaves, Leonard appears in the doorway. His eyes are so swollen and bloodshot that he looks like he’s aged a decade in a matter of hours. He can barely get a word out without breaking into tears. I know Constance and I are in no shape to drive, so while she’s being discharged, I call Spicy to give him an update and have him send a car.
“I’m going to book a suite at the Aman for us. Leonard, are you okay going back to the estate tonight? If you would rather stay at the Aman, I can book you a room as well.”
“No, Maximo, I would rather go home. All of Enzo’s things are there, and I…” His voice cracks, and he bows his head as tears drip down his nose.
“I understand,” I tell him as I place a hand on his shoulder, then gather him close in a hug as another wave of grief sweeps over us. I can’t control the burst of hot tears that assail me as I hold my uncle.
“I’m going to get dressed,” Constance whispers as she gathers her bag of her clothes and disappears into the bathroom.
I force a brief smile for her as she leaves the two of us alone. Leonard clings to me a minute longer, then produces a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his face.
“I’m going to step outside and get some fresh air,” he says with a sigh. “I’ll leave you two to get ready and keep an eye out for whoever Spicy sends to pick us up.”
“Spicy’s sending Tony Buck, so just look for the giant with a neck tattoo.”
“I know Tony.” Leonard nods. “I’ll text you when he gets here.”
After Leonard leaves, I sit down on the edge of the bed and try to brush some of the filth off my shirt. When Constance steps out of the bathroom, still wearing the same dirty outfit from the explosion, I tell her, “I should have had Tony bring us some fresh clothes. I’ll ask him to go pack an overnight bag for us after he drops us off at the hotel.
“I would appreciate that,” Constance says as she comes over and stands between my legs, then pulls my head to her chest to embrace me. “I’m so sorry about Enzo and Luca, and all your other friends who have been killed or injured. I can’t help feeling like it’s partly my fault; that if I hadn’t pushed you for revenge like Salvatore said this could have turned out differently.”
“Don’t think like that,” I reassure her as I wrap my arms around her waist and hold her close to me. “You didn’t light this fire. You were swept up in it just like I was. This is the Volkovs’ fault, and I don’t intend to let these Bratva bastards gain an inch of ground in my city. Even if you hadn’t shown up at my house looking for justice, I still would have insisted on it.”
“I don’t want you to lose anyone else. I don’t want anyone else you care about to get hurt just to avenge my father.”
“No one else will.” I pull back and smile up at her with all the confidence I can muster. “I’ve already got a plan on how to handle this meeting Salvatore’s insisting we attend. I haven’t got all the details hammered out yet, but if The White Devil can force the Volkovs to the table, it will be our best shot at ending those bastards once and for all.”
“You can tell me all about it once we’re at the hotel.” Constance drops her hands to mine and then pulls me to my feet. “For now, let’s get out of here. I’m sick of hospitals.”
