Page 29 of Jealous Vows

Chapter 10

Romeo Yovanni

I don’t understand Sienna’s reaction.Valentina’s father died several weeks ago.It was not kept secret.

In fact, part of the reason I wasn’t surprised a Hispanic biker gang was after her when we first met was because I thought her father—the strongest mafia soldier in San Francisco—was using them to help sop up the power void from Pietro’s absence.

Yet the way Sienna stares at me indicates she didn’t know her don was dead.Her expression morphs to one of disinterest.

“What am I getting ready for?”she asks.

Void of emotions, including fear and uncertainty, her question pulls me out of my musings.I release her chin and rise to my full height before answering.

“For a meeting with your beloved uncle, of course,” I mock coo.

A bland smile lifts her lips.

“He won’t come,” she declares.

I boop her nose in admonishment.

“Of course he will.You’re his precious niece.He’ll do whatever it takes to get you back,” I say.

She quirks a brow, but despite the skepticism in her eyes, she changes the subject instead of arguing.

“How is he supposed to know where I am?Did you leave a message or something?”

I smile and tuck her hair behind her ear, unable to resist the urge to touch her.

“He knows who I am by the buttons, coat, and belt I left behind with your panties,” I say.

At her quizzical glance, I sigh and explain.

“I only own customs and one of a kinds.My entire business model revolves around the rules of rarity.It’s an honor for me to accept a custom from a creator.Once I do, they’re set for life.No one will ever forget their name again.”

“So… you’re an influencer?”she quips.

I throw my head back and laugh before musing out loud, “An influencer for the deadliest, most powerful people in the world.No social media required.”

I chuckle and shake my head at the thought of filming the things I do to keep my items—and their owners—rare.

“How do you—no, wait.I don’t want to know.You’re mafia, and that’s all that matters.”The harshness of her voice conveys her opinion on the topic.“I still don’t understand how my uncle is supposed to know where I am,” she says.

“I own this hotel, baby doll.Your uncle knows exactly where you are; he just can’t get to you without starting a citywide massacre.”

Her brows furrow.I brush my fingertips over her forehead.

“Why would him coming here start a war?”she asks.

I cup the side of her face.She doesn’t argue or shy away.

“Think of this building as Switzerland, except it’s the opposite of neutral.Everyone who is anyone has a membership here.One toe out of line, and eighty other families will end your bloodline,” I say.

“Oh.Then how is he supposed to come for me?”

I pull my phone out of my pocket and give it a wiggle.

“Are you ready to smile for the camera?Your uncle should video call me soon,” I announce.