Page 82 of Blood Vows

“Anything else?” she asked.

He frowned. “A key.”

Elena froze. “What kind of key?”

Dante’s attention sharpened. “It was small.”

“Like a safe-deposit key?” she asked.

“Maybe.”

Her pulse began to pound. “What happened to it?”

“It was put into an evidence bag,” Dante admitted.

“Where is that bag now?” she asked.

“Luca’s archive, probably.”

Elena stepped toward him. “Why didn’t you remember that before?”

“Because it was two years ago and I’ve done more jobs than I care to count,” he said.

She flinched, and Dante did too. “Sorry.”

“No.” She shook her head. “Don’t apologize for telling me who you are.”

His eyes darkened. “That isn't all I am.” She looked at him. There was no arrogance in the words, just pain and certainty. She knew that much about him. God help her, she knew that he was so much more than just a man hired to do a job.

He was the man who had threatened her in her apartment, but also the man who’d covered her body with his when bullets flew. Dante was the man who had killed for Luca, but was also the man who had changed her bandage with hands gentle enough to make her forget what those hands had probably done to other people. The man standing in front of her might have killed her father, but she had fallen for him anyway, and that realization hit her so hard she almost stepped back. No, she couldn’t have fallen for him. It was too soon, too messy, and too impossible, but the ache in her chest didn’t care what word she used.

“Elena?” he breathed.

She realized Dante was watching her. “I’m fine,” she lied. His expression said he didn’t believe her. She almost laughed because some things never changed.

“Let’s go,” she ordered.

Isabella opened the door before Elena knocked. One look at her face and her cousin stopped smiling. “What happened?” Elena tried to speak, but nothing came out. Isabella pulled her inside. “Elena?” Dante stepped in behind her, and Isabella looked at him, and then back at Elena. “What happened?”

Elena finally forced the words out. “Dante might have killed my father.” Isabella went still, and the air felt as though it had changed.

Luca appeared from the hallway. “What’s going on?” he asked.

Dante shut the door. “Not here.”

“Yes, here,” Elena said. He looked at her, and she held his gaze. “No more secrets.”

Something passed through his expression, and then he nodded. “Fine.”

Luca’s jaw tightened. “My study.” They followed him, and Elena sat on the couch. Isabella sat beside her immediately. Dante remained standing, far enough away that she didn’t feel crowded, yet close enough that she could still feel him.

Luca went behind his desk. “I pulled the archive.”

Dante looked at him. “Of the warehouse?”

“Yes,” Luca breathed.

Elena’s stomach twisted. “And?”