Page 22 of Blood Vows

Elena shifted slightly in the seat. “You know what’s strange?”

“Um, everything tonight has been strange. You’re going to need to be more specific, Elena,” he grumbled.

He waited her out as she glanced down at her hands. “My father used to tell me to never ignore patterns.”

Dante’s attention sharpened. “What do you mean?”

“He said patterns were useful because people wanted you to notice them.”

That got his full attention. “Your father said that?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“When?” he asked.

“All the time,” she said.

“About what?” he asked.

She shrugged carefully. “Money, business, and people.”

Dante leaned forward slightly. “Tell me exactly what he used to say.”

Elena frowned. “What?”

“What did he say?”

She thought about it for a second. “He used to say that patterns are invitations.”

Dante went still. “Invitations to what?”

“He never explained any of that to me,” she admitted.

“Try to remember,” he ordered.

She exhaled. “He said if someone wanted you to follow a trail badly enough, you should ask why they bothered leaving one.” Dante sat back. That was not a casual saying; it was professional paranoia. It was the kind developed by men who moved dirty money for dangerous people.

Elena watched him. “That means something to you.”

“Yes,” he breathed.

“What?” she asked.

Dante looked at her. “It means your father may have known exactly what kind of people he was dealing with.”

Her expression hardened. “He wasn’t a criminal.”

Dante said nothing, but that seemed to be answer enough. “Elena⁠—”

“No.” Her voice sharpened. “My father handled money. That doesn’t make him a killer.”

“I didn’t say it did,” he agreed.

“You didn’t have to.”

Dante rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Being involved in this world doesn’t always mean pulling a trigger.”

Her eyes flashed. “Easy for you to say.”