Page 68 of Blood Vows

His face darkened. “No, you don't know that for sure.”

“No, but I might be right, and it’s worth looking into.”

“No.” He crossed the room. “No fucking way.”

“Why are you angry with me?” she asked.

“I'm not angry with you,” he insisted.

Elena barked out her laugh. “Could've fooled me,” she said.

He stopped in front of her. “Fine, it’s because you're talking about yourself like you’re property.”

“Maybe I was property to my father,” she said.

“Not anymore.” The certainty in his voice shook her. “You can't change what happened twenty-seven years ago.” His hand came up and touched her jaw. “But I can damn sure change what happens now.”

She looked at him, and the intensity in his eyes stole her breath. “Dante⁠—”

“You aren’t anyone’s property, Elena. You belong to no one,” he insisted. His thumb brushed her cheek. “Not to the trust or family. No fucking empire gets to decide what happens to you.”

Her chest tightened. “And what about you?”

His gaze changed. “What about me?”

“You keep deciding what happens to me.”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “That's different.”

She laughed. “You're unbelievable.”

“I keep hearing that.” His hand slid behind her neck, and she knew he was going to kiss her. She wanted him to. He leaned in, and her phone rang. Dante closed his eyes, and Elena laughed.

“Now you know how it feels,” she said.

“I'm destroying every phone in this house,” he grumbled. She pulled hers from the counter and saw that it said, “Unknown number” on the screen. Her laughter disappeared.

Dante looked over her shoulder. “Don't answer.”

She looked at him. “You literally just said no one gets to decide what I do. That lasted a whole thirty seconds.” Despite herself, she smiled, and the phone rang again, and it said the same thing—unknown number.

Dante held out his hand. “Give it to me.”

“No,” Elena hissed, holding the phone to her chest.

“Elena,” he growled.

She answered the phone before he could grab it away from her. “Hello?” Dante moved closer to her, and she put it on speaker. “Hello?”

She heard breathing on the other end of the call. “Elena Romano.”

Her blood went cold, and Dante took the phone from her hand. “Who the fuck is this?” The man laughed, and he sounded old and rough, but familiar. Elena stopped breathing. No, that was impossible.

“Put her back on,” the man ordered.

Dante’s expression became murderous. “You have ten seconds to tell me who you are.”

“Hello, Dante Vitale,” the man shouted, and Dante froze. Elena stared at the phone. The man knew him. “Interesting choice, Elena,” the man said. Her heart hammered because she knew that voice. But she couldn't place who it was. Then he spoke again. “Your father would be disappointed.”