Page 131 of Vow Of Fire

“This is bad,” Vincent muttered, pacing behind his desk. I’d never seen him so affected before. Usually, he was the epitome of cool. “Very bad. If the Bratva are involved… the Colombians must have done something to piss them off.”

I swallowed hard and forced myself to keep acting surprised. “You think this is connected to my gallery?”

“I think,” Vincent said carefully, “that Malakov is sending them a message. A message written in blood.”

I gulped.

A knock sounded sharply at the office door and we both jumped. Vincent opened it to reveal Dante standing there in a dark charcoal coat, broad shoulders filling the doorway. He looked like a hot, but grouchy, avenging angel.

His silver gaze found mine. Assessing. Checking me over.

“You ready?” he asked.

I blinked, confused. “What are you doing here?”

“Picking you up.”

Vincent nodded at Dante before returning to his desk. Dante focus snapped to the computer screen. I saw him take in the article before his eyes met mine. I knew then that this was his doing. Him and his family’s.

“What’s that?” he said to Vincent, as calmly as if he was asking what was on the menu.

“Breaking news.” Vincent glanced up at him. “Looks like the Russians took a hit out on the Colombians.”

Dante arched a brow. “We know them?”

“That’s the Colombian intermediary, Ricardo Sánchez,” I told him, biting my lip.

“How do you know it was the Russians?” His gaze swung back to Vincent. Curious. Concerned. Not a flicker of remorse.

“A couple of reporters mentioned the bullet casings. Don’t know how they knew. Cops don’t usually hand out that kind of information.” Vincent shrugged, but the deep lines creasing his forehead told me he was anxious.

He was right about that. The information on the bullets had been leaked by Marco’s police source.

“Chloe’s locking up.” Dante stepped aside so I could pass. “Max is waiting.”

“I’ll be right there,” I told him. “I’ve just got to get my coat and purse.”

He nodded and went to wait in the main gallery. I fetched my things from my office, an uneasy feeling settling over me. Up until now, it had all been talk. Now two men were dead.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

By the time we stepped onto the sidewalk outside, dusk had fallen over SoHo. Rain slicked the pavement beneath the streetlights while traffic hissed in the distance. Dante’s hand settled against the small of my back as he guided me toward the waiting SUV.

“You okay?” he murmured quietly.

I gave a tight nod, still trying to reconcile the man beside me with the brutal headline burned into my mind.

Two men dead.

A war escalating exactly the way Valentina intended.

And somehow, impossibly, the only place I felt remotely safe anymore was beside the monster helping orchestrate it.

35

KINGDOM OF SIN

Dante