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I regard her, studying the anxiety swirling over her. “Vincenzo.”

The color drains from her face, but she brushes back her hair, trying to appear as if his name did not affect her. What has she heard about him? “You’re going to ask him if it’s okay for me to stay?”

“No.” I shake my head once, slow and deliberate so there’s no mistaking my words. “I’m not asking him. I’m telling him.”

Chapter seven

Charlotte

We enter the extravagant home of Vincenzo, and I’m immediately met with a familiar friend: fear. The foyer is every bit as extravagant as Alex’s home, yet somehow colder. Darker.

Silence descends around us as the guards stationed throughout the house dip their heads respectfully as Alex passes. Their eyes then shift to me, a flicker of curiosity crossing their features before quickly appearing unfazed.

I keep my eyes lowered, following closely behind Alex as my heart beats faster and harder with each step toward his brother’s office. My fingers twist anxiously together before me as we stop outside a pair of imposing wooden doors.

Alex takes a deep breath, braces his hands on the door, pushes it open, and steps inside. I linger behind him, using his body as a shield, my breaths growing shallow as nerves sweep over me.

Over the years, I’ve heard stories about the Alaries. But the worst of them pertain to Vincenzo. Gruesome tales that would bring a sane person nightmares. Like how he carved the heart from a man who tried to kidnap his sister while the man was still alive and then preserved it in a glass jar as a warning to his enemies. A tremor cascades over me, goosebumps appearing across my forearms.

“Brother.” Vincenzo’s deep, authoritative voice sends a shiver down my spine. “What was so important that you needed to see me at this late hour? Burn another house down?”

Alex straightens. “We need to talk.” He hesitantly steps to the side, revealing me.

My eyes land on Vincenzo as he takes a sip from the crystal glass in his hand. He’s even more frightening up close with his large build and imposing presence. The color drains from his face as his eyes widen, the glass frozen in his hand. He chokes on the amber liquid and coughs, slapping a palm to his chest.

Silence settles over the room, and his eyes trail over me from head to toe as if seeing a ghost.

He’s not happy.

“What,” Vincenzo says slowly, his gaze cutting between Alex and me, “is she doing here?” He sets his crystal glass down and pushes away from his desk, standing to his full height. I find myself taking a step toward Alex as he points a finger at me. “Everyone thinks you’re dead. Your memorial service was only hours ago.”

I swallow the lump lodged in my throat. “I-I know.” Alex shifts closer until he’s standing directly behind me, his shadow covering mine. “I h-had no choice. My hus—” I stop myself, taking a breath. “Garrett was trying to sell me, so I jumped overboard and swam to shore. I got a bus ticket to New York and have been trying to get here ever since.”

Vincenzo’s expression darkens. “To whom?”

My lips part, my brows furrowing. “What?”

“Who was Garrett selling you to?”

“The Vasilievs,” Alex answers for me.

Vincenzo’s eyes slowly lift to meet his brother’s. Any trace of warmth he may have harbored drains from his face, replaced by something far more dangerous. He drags his fingers through his beard, pinching his eyes closed. “Those stronzos.” Opening his eyes, he tilts his head to the side, curiosity in his gaze. “Why did you come here?”

I anxiously tug on my sleeve. “Well…” I stare at the floor. “I ran into Alex at the governor’s dinner last fall and…” The memory of that day slams into me. Garrett was so mad. Furious with me for disappointing him again. When we returned home, he spent the entire night punishing me before chaining me to the bed and leaving me there for days with no food or water. A vicious chill skates over my skin.

“I told her if she ever needed help, to call me,” Alex says, his voice calm.

“And yet,” Vincenzo begins, “you traveled by bus up the East Coast to see him in person?”

I tuck my hair behind my ear, warmth spreading over my cheeks. “I don’t… I don’t have a phone.” I drop my hands to my sides. “I wasn’t allowed to have one.”

A profound stillness fills the space between us, allowing shame to build inside me.

I must sound so pathetic.

“I see.” Vincenzo lowers himself into his chair and leans back, steepling his fingers beneath his chin as he studies me. “I don’t want you to get the wrong impression,” he says at last. “We are going to help you, as no woman should ever have to go through what you have, and we don’t stand for it.” A flicker of hope blooms in my chest. “But your presence here…” His eyes narrow on me. “It complicates matters, especially since you’re technically dead.” I worry my bottom lip between my teeth, my shoulders curling in. “So.” He lifts a thick brow. “What’s the plan?”

I tuck my hair behind my ear, swallowing down my nerves. “Well, I was hoping I could stay here for the four to six weeks it takes for Alex to create me a new identity. Then, once it’s finished, I’ll leave.” I wrap my arms around my middle. “If… If that’s okay?”