The Killer’s Vow by Aria R. Blue
Vera
The four of us are seated around a coffee table when the doorbell rings.
Simon’s head snaps up. “Who is that?”
“I invited her,” Nico says, getting up.
Simon is immediately on edge. “Invited who?”
“Sorry, man,” Nico says, already moving toward the door.
Simon’s killer instincts make him hyperaware of Nico’s every move. Luna doesn’t even blink when Simon points his gun at her husband.
“Enough. Both of you,” she says. “You don’t always have to be so dramatic.”
“Don’t open that fucking door, Nico,” Simon growls.
Nico grins over his shoulder and opens the door anyway. “She’s one of ours.”
I catch Luna’s gaze as she rolls her eyes. “Men. I tell you.”
Curious at who the visitor is, I crane my neck to catch a glimpse.
Pink toenails, black stilettos, ripped jeans, and a Nike T-shirt.
The woman threw it all together so casually, but she still has more style than the four of us combined.
Only one person can walk in with such finesse when a gun is pointed in her direction.
Ivy Blackwood.
The boss of the American mafia and my little sister’s role model.
She tosses her long blond hair behind her shoulder. “Vera, tell your friend to calm down. He’s being kind of rude.”
Simon grumbles about how this isn’t a frat party and puts his gun away.
Ivy floats over to me and gives me a warm hug. She does the same to Luna.
Even though she’s known Nico all her life, she greets him with a double pat on his head.
“I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” she says, stopping in front of Simon.
“This is Simon,” I say. “He helped me escape.”
“And you know him from…?” she asks, tilting her head.
Ivy is only a few years older than me, but she took on the role of a big sister a long time ago.
I clear my throat.
What should I say? The man was sent to kill me, but then he decided not to.
“He’s Russian too,” I say lamely.
Simon frowns at my reply, but Ivy watches Simon for a few seconds before accepting my answer.
“I heard about Inessa only today,” she says, taking a seat at the head of the table. “I would have come by sooner if I had known. So what do we have so far?”
I’m about to fill her in when I notice a presence by the doorway.
It makes me startle, and Simon draws his gun again.
Ivy Blackwood’s presence is so big that none of us noticed that she didn’t come alone.
Another man steps into the house—one with silver hair and silver eyes.
Damian Innocenti. I grin at him, and he smiles back.
“What is it with you?” Ivy chides, slapping Simon’s forearm. “Why are you trying to kill my husband and me?”
The man in question walks toward us and kisses Ivy’s forehead before giving me a hug.
I stand to receive him.
It’s always good to see Damian.
“It’s nice to see you again, Vera,” he says, the warmth in his eyes touching my heart.
He’s one of the few people in my life that feel like coming home.
Being in their presence is so liberating.
The entire week was confusing as hell, and it’s only now that I’m starting to pick myself back up.
“Yeah, you were saying?” Ivy says, her bright eyes focused on me.
I glance at the coffee table.
Notebooks are scattered around it. All of us have been writing down things that may be of use later.
I keep oscillating between feeling invincible and feeling scared.
“Nico, can you fill her in?” I ask him.
Ivy turns to Nico’s wife. “Luna, can you?”
Nico and Ivy’s relationship is a strange one.
Both of them grew up together in this city. They used to be like siblings, but I feel Ivy is going out of her way to ignore him right now.
I never noticed this before today.
Luna shares with the newcomers everything they need to know.
Ivy listens to her patiently and then turns to me when Luna is done speaking. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the reason your sister wanted to run away?”
I look away.
There’s a reason Ivy Blackwood is so successful at everything she does.
She keeps going even after everyone else around her has decided to stop.
“She was unhappy,” I confess.
“Was there a specific reason?”
“Ivy—“ Damian, her older husband, touches her hand. Like Simon, he doesn’t like it when I’m uncomfortable for any reason.
I look back at Ivy.
Her eyes are anxious and open.
These people are here to help. How can they help me if they don’t know the whole truth?
“My father has been trying to sell me since I was fifteen,” I say, my eyes flickering to Damian.
He knows this about me. He was the one who gave me the courage to do what I do.
“Sell you?” Ivy fumes.
“Give them my hand in marriage,” I rectify.
But it’s too late.
Ivy is a righteous person who hates injustice in all shapes and forms.
Even though this isn’t a new concept in our circles.
Women are sold. There are even contracts and lawyers involved.
All that is guaranteed is luxury and an empty life.
I don’t blame my sister for not wanting that for herself.
“You know how it is,” I say. “Sometimes you get lucky in an arranged marriage, and other times, you learn to live with it.”
Ivy’s gaze narrows. “Why, though?”
“Why what?” I ask.
“Why was your father trying to marry you off to someone you don’t like?”
I consider telling them that the Russian Bratva is not as affluent as everyone believes it to be.
But I decide against it.
It may lead to unnecessary complications further down the road.
“He wants to expand,” I say, settling on a half-truth. “And a partnership through marriage is one of the ways.”
Ivy takes a deep breath. “And your sister didn’t want that for herself?”
“To be honest, she didn’t like that I was going through it,” I say. “She was never too concerned about her own self.”
“And why is that?” Ivy asks.
I glance at the door where I left my dog.
He had his dinner of smoked salmon and is sleeping peacefully now.
“I guess—” I choke on my words. “I guess my sister is better at standing up for herself.”
Simon clenches his fists on the table.
It’s the truth.
I’ve lived in fear for most of my life.
I tried my hardest to be accommodating and please everybody but myself. And look where that got me.
Ivy’s attention is on Simon now. “Why do you look familiar?”
“You met him already,” her husband says. “At the party.”
Ivy’s eyes flash with recognition. “You were the man in black.”
“I was wearing a black mask, yes,” Simon says.
“And how exactly did you reconnect with Vera again?” Ivy asks, propping her chin on her fist. There’s a thin gold ring on each of her fingers.
“I like her,” Simon says casually. “So I found her.”
“I don’t trust you,” Ivy says blatantly. “I didn’t like you at the party, and I don’t like you now.”
“I think I’ll survive,” Simon says cooly, his eyes focused on me.
Nothing ruffles him.
All he does is watch my reaction to the things people say and give them a death glare if they offend me in any way.
I wonder how long he’s going to be this way.
Experience has taught me that it takes a few months for a person’s true colors to come out.
I wonder what Simon’s true colors look like.
Or if he really is as genuine as I believe him to be.
“This is what we have so far,” Luna says, explaining all of the hypotheses we have of what might have happened to Inessa.
“This isn’t like her,” Ivy says.
A surge of venom bites my throat.
Inessa is my little sister. I’m the one who knows her best.
“Yeah, I didn’t see it coming either,” I snap. “But she did it anyway.”
Ivy knits her fingers together. “No, I just mean, she wouldn’t cause all this trouble if she didn’t have a really good reason. It makes me wonder why she really ran away from home.”
“That boy,” Nico says. “That boy is her reason.”
Ivy and I both shake our heads now.
“It can’t be,” Ivy says. “She wouldn’t give up her whole life and put you through this much distress for a boy she met at a party.”
Damian clears his throat. “You guys still see her as a child. She’s not a kid anymore. Maybe she just wanted to do something for herself.”
I lean back in my chair. “We’re just running in circles now.”
“That’s because we’re just discussing our opinions,” Simon says. “We need cold hard facts. Evidence and proof of what really happened.”
“I agree,” Damian nods, earning a glare from his wife.
“Does your sister keep a journal, Vera?” Luna asks.
My cheeks grow hot.
It was the first thing I searched for. “She took it with her.”
“Video footage,” Simon says abruptly. “From the party. If we can secure it, we might get more information on the man who claimed to be Nico’s cousin.”
“There were cameras around that night?” I ask.
“Of course,” Ivy says. “What else do you expect when nobody trusts each other?”
“Where can we get the footage then?” I ask.
Everybody looks at each other.
Nico is the one who gives me an answer. “The Shadows are the ones who keep it.”
In that case, it’s hopeless to even consider it.
“They’re never going to give it to someone like me,” I say. “Can we hack into it?”
“Not if it belongs to the Shadows,” Simon says.
I look at him, hoping this is all some massive joke.
The Shadows control every other crime organization on this planet.
They’re known for being aloof and hard to reach.
They’re made up of misfits and outcasts, people who never belonged to any one place or group. And together, they grew to become the largest organized crime group in existence.
Ivy’s husband, Damian, is the one who birthed the Shadows.
But he’s no longer a part of it. Kind of like a CEO who was the brains and brawn behind a startup before selling it.
Now, it’s led by a group of people called the Council. They’re as shady as the rest of us, but the way they run things is very democratic.
“You can’t help me?” I ask Damian.
“Of course I’ll help you, but I think it’s better if you approach the Council yourself,” he says.
“Nico?” I ask.
He knows a woman who’s a part of the Shadows.
I know she doesn’t have a high rank, but her help can still make a difference.
“I’ll put in a word with Ma—“ He clears his throat. “With Signora Ranallo. But I agree with Damian. You’re the one closest to this case. The Council will be more likely to show you the party footage if you ask them yourself.”
I always thought I was strong.
But I never felt weaker than I do at this moment. I never felt like such a failure.
It must be visible on my face because Simon reaches for my hand.
“Vera, can I talk to you in private?” he asks.
With shaky legs, I stand.
I take him to the bedroom where Lion is sleeping and kneel beside my dog.
“You’re afraid,” he says.
“Of course I’m afraid. It’s the Shadows.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“They can turn me down,” I say hopelessly.
All I’ve learned in my life is how to deflect situations. If a man assaults me, I put him in his place. But that’s all I’ve ever done.
I haven’t even been to school.
I don’t know how to negotiate or charm my way through sticky situations.
“What are you afraid of?” Simon asks again.
And the truth comes spilling out. “I’m afraid I can’t do this.”
“Your family is choking your heart and mind, Vera,” he says slowly. “You’re all these miles away, yet they still have a hold on you. You’re still afraid of what they can do.”
“I’m also afraid of what I can’t do,” I say.
“Tigritsa moya,” he chides. “There’s only one way to find out.”
I look up at him.
And I realize something fundamental—this man is either going to be my salvation or my destruction.