Vows of Contempt (The Sovrano Mafia Empire #2)

Chapter 1

Stefan

Knock, knock, knock.

Knock, knock, knock.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

“Shut the TV off, Chesca,” I mumbled into my pillow. She didn't do that often—leave the TV on and fall asleep while we were in bed. But she did it sometimes.

I was sleeping so hard I wanted to go right back to it.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

“Oh, for fuck's sake,” I said, moaning and hating the fact that TVs were ever invented. How Francesca couldn't hear that horrible noise, I'd never know. “Fine, I'll turn it off.” I opened my eyes to—complete darkness.

I blinked.

And then I blinked again.

I moved my hand over to touch Francesca—but she wasn't beside me. I turned to look toward the bathroom. The very dark bathroom. She wasn't there either.

“Chesca?” I called out into the darkness.

No one answered.

I called out again, louder this time. “Francesca? Where the fuck are you?”

Boom.

Boom.

Boom.

The entire room shook from the force of whoever—or whatever was hitting the door.

Terror shot through me.

Was Francesca outside? Had she locked herself out by accident?

“Fuck.” I pushed out of bed and stumbled to the door. “Hang on, I'm here,” I said loudly, so she'd stop panicking. My hand landed on the doorknob, and I turned it. “What the hell did you—” I started saying, positive I'd see my woman strolling through the door.

“Oh, my gosh. Stefan,” Eve's voice answered. Then I felt a woman hug me. From the cherry scent, I knew it was Eve. “We've been so worried. Thank goodness you're okay,” she sobbed into my chest.

I moved her head over slightly, away from my almost healed wound. “Why are you here?” I said, my voice groggy with sleep. “And where the fuck's Francesca? Was she outside with you?” I asked as I hugged Eve back.

She tried to answer. However, nothing intelligible came out.

“I can't understand a word you're—” I started to say before the main light went on. I shut my eyes against the bright assault.

“Get your shit. We're going home.” My brother strode into the apartment as I opened my eyes. “What kind of shithole have you been living in, Brother?” Hands on his hips, he turned around, taking in the surroundings. “This is even worse than your old place, Giselle.”

A loud gasp came from behind me. “Excuse me if some of us weren't born rich.” Giselle's voice was clipped and sharp. And then she walked up and joined the hug. “Thanks for not letting us know where you were. Jerkface.” She kissed my cheek and rubbed my back. “We were worried about you.”

Carlo shook his head and glared at me. “Fuck, you look terrible. And this place stinks.” He sniffed, a look of disgust crossed his face. “Is that corned beef I smell?”

He was probably right. I'd grown so used to the constant cooking smells emanating from the main floor that I didn't even notice anymore.

“This reunion has been great.” I tried to push away from the beautiful women hugging me. “But I have to find Francesca. Did you see her when you came in?”

Eve's red, blotchy face looked up at me, and she continued sobbing.

Fuck.

“She left you. Now, grab your shit and let's go. I want to get out of here before the cockroaches wake up.”

I stared at my brother—my blood running cold. “What do you mean—” I swallowed over my dry throat. “She left? Did she go out to grab something from her car? Sometimes she forgets shit in there.”

Eve wailed and shook her head. “No, no, no.”

Carlo walked into the kitchen and started opening the cabinets one by one. “She left you. Called us an hour and a half ago. We had to wait for the nanny to show up.” He bent down to peer into one of the lower cabinets. “What the hell were you eating? There's fuck all for food in this place.”

Suddenly, my legs felt weaker than they had in days. “Let me sit for a minute.” The women let me go, and I headed for the bed.

The empty bed.

After I sat, Eve and Giselle flanked me.

“We're so sorry,” Eve said. Or at least that was what I thought she said. Her crying hadn't stopped. Carlo strode from the kitchen to the bathroom. I heard him rustle around in there, opening drawers or something.

“What does he mean, Francesca called?” My heart stuttered while my brain tried to make sense out of everything my brother had said. Because it didn't make sense.

At all.

Francesca was just in bed with me a minute ago.

I'd told her that I loved her.

That I was taking her to my place in the morning.

That I was going to take her away to a white sandy beach of her choosing.

She was mine.

She wouldn't leave.

And then call my fuckin' family.

Carlo stood in the bathroom doorway and said, “Put a shirt on and let's get the fuck outta here. I can't stand this stench any longer.”

I shook my head. “I have to find Francesca. We're going to my place in the morning.”

Eve's head fell forward, and she covered her face with her hands.

Fuck.

“Stefan, honey.” Giselle set her hand on my cheek. “Francesca called me.” Her eyes were filled with—pity? “Carlo's right, she's gone. She told us to come pick you up.”

I couldn't understand what Giselle was saying. She might as well be speaking in a foreign language.

Carlo’s voice boomed from the kitchen. “She's gone, man! Put your clothes and shoes on, and let’s get the fuck outta here.”

Nick strolled into the apartment. He looked at the three of us on the bed and then turned to Carlo. “Could you have been any more abrupt? Perhaps a little empathy might be in order.”

Carlo shrugged like he didn't give a fuck about my feelings.

Probably because he didn't give a fuck about my feelings.

“Nick, what the hell's going on?” I levelled with my best friend.

I loved him—even though I still partially hated him for siding with Carlo all those months ago.

But Nick was a straight shooter. He'd tell me exactly what I asked. Give me the information I needed.

Nick's eyes dropped to the floor for a moment. When he looked back up at me, he said, “Francesca got Giselle’s number from the hospital a while ago. She called and told Giselle to come and get you.”

I frowned as my heart pounded even harder in my chest. “What do you mean? Why would she do that?” I asked breathlessly. Nothing he said made any sense. He had to be wrong.

“Francesca left you. She said she didn't want to leave you alone. That one of us should come over and get you.” If Nick had struck me in the chest with a baseball bat, it wouldn't have hurt any less.

“That's not true.” I couldn’t blink.

Giselle squeezed my leg and kissed my cheek. “He's telling you the truth. That's exactly what Francesca said.”

My eyes found Giselle's and searched her face for any trace—any hint that she was lying to me. Giselle hadn't always told me the truth.

We'd been through more than most.

But something told me that she would never lie to me about this.

About Francesca.

“I've got a few guys on it. They'll find her.” Nick cleared his throat. “If you want her to be found, that is.”

I let out a forced laugh. “If? If I want her found?” I squinted at him and sighed. “Yeah, I fuckin' want her found. Now.”

Nick nodded quickly and crossed his arms. “That's what I thought.”

Giselle kissed my cheek again. “Francesca said she left you a note. I'll help you find it while we pack you up.” She stood and grabbed Eve's hand, pulling her. “Help me, okay? We need to get him home.”

Eve sniffled and nodded her head.

“Found it. Not like there's a lot of places for her to hide something in here.” Carlo stalked to the dresser and snatched a white envelope off it. “Here. You've got five minutes before we leave this hellhole,” he said as he tossed the envelope at me.