Page 79 of Fake Dark Vows

“Brandon?” Julia’s voice sounds far away.

“I’m here.”

Pause. “I didn’t think you would pick up.” There’s forced lightheartedness in her tone—she’s scared that I’ll hang up before she says her piece.

“What do you want, Julia?”

“Where are you?”

“Vegas.”

Another pause. “It’s true then?”

“What’s true?”

“You got married.”

“Julia, I’m pressed for time.”

I can see the top levels of the Palazzo in the distance on my right, the chapel will be a couple of blocks down on my left. People are jostling all around me, their evenings just beginning.

“Brandon, I’m sorry about what happened with Wren. I didn’t know?—”

“It’s done now,” I interject.

“I-I know you don’t trust me now, and I can’t change that, but I want to help.”

Help?

“You’ve done enough, Julia. Is that all?”

“I know you’ve been trying to find Carlos Russo.”

I freeze. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle.

“He never made it to his residence in Rome.”

I turn away from the crowds, switch the phone to my other ear—it’s a difficult habit to break. “How do you know this?”

“I have my contacts.”

“What happened in Rome?”

“I’m not sure.” There’s an edge to her voice that I didn’t pick up on before.

“But he was there?”

“I don’t know, Brandon.” She lowers her voice as if worried someone might hear her. “I don’t know where he is.”

I swallow. My thoughts are racing. “Why are you telling me this?”

“It’s gone too far. Wren… She’s in over her head. I’m worried about her.”

I ignore the bit about Julia’s sister. “What’s gone too far?”

“That’s all I know. I’m sorry, Brandon. I’m sorry for everything.” She ends the call.

I call her straight back, but the number is unobtainable.