CRIMSON VOWS

o: The Devil

f the club's lights like liquid fire. Isabella kept her hands steady, her ex

know

r, his fingers tracing the rim of his own glass.

ed a brow. "S

yes remained dark, unamused. "Then again, mos

of hiding, of scrubbing the stench of her family's downf

blade wrapped in velvet. "W

flinch. "A c

out

scar just beneath her jaw-a souvenir from the night her fa

. "You're wasting your

a heartbeat, she thought he might pull a gun. Ins

eath c

ast time she'd seen him, he'd been bleeding out on the floor of thei

lethally soft. "He'

d with rage. "If

ead. "But my enemies will. U

in her ears. This was

t her from the photograph,

hard. "What

le was slow,

ryth

otograph back toward Matteo, her voice barely ab

slid it toward her. A live video feed showed Marco in a dimly lit room,

oat tig

g to him,"* Ma

leaned closer to t

e, his eyes widening. *"Bella?"* His voice was rough,

ed cut

hone, his gaze unwave

ms. This wasn't just a negotiation-it wa

r price?"* s

a man named Vittorio Moretti. He's been skimming from my fami

. *"You want me

ice dropping. *"Moretti has a taste for pretty things, bu

between them-*or you'll e

*"And if I do this?

this *right*, I'll give you more than his freedom."* He pulle

's pulse

word was a pois

already dr