Page 6 of Bound By A Promise

“Doing my job.”

Stepping away from my mother, I walked to Miguel and wrapped my arms around his torso. My vision blurred at the idea of losing him. I looked up. “Thank you.”

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around me. “You’re safe.”

I didn’t feel safe.

“Go to Kansas City,” my brother said. “El Patr?nhas been notified. You two will be secure with Cat and the capo while we take out the Russian trash.”

Chapter

Two

Camila

Miguel stayed omnipresent as I threw random clothes and belongings into a suitcase. Although the men had said we were safe, I couldn’t help noticing the way my bodyguard was on ultra-high alert.

Tension caused my stomach to twist and goose bumps to dot my skin as we left my bedroom. Armed cartel guards stood outside my father’s office door and still others could be seen over the banister down below in the foyer. From the hallway to my room, the roar of angry voices cursing in two languages came from Papá’s office.

Moments before we reached the staircase, the office door flew open. My breath caught with surprise as Dante, Dario Luciano’s brother, appeared. His dark hair lay in waves. A gray t-shirt covered his wide chest. Muscles and tendons showed in his biceps. Instead of the suit he’d worn during Aléjandro’s wedding, his long legs were covered by faded blue jeans. Asincredible of a specimen he was to behold, it was his expression that held my attention and increased my unease.

A clenched jaw and pulsating muscles. His dark eyes bore into mine with an intensity I couldn’t understand.

There was no questioning the rage in his countenance.

Appearing as surprised to see us as we were to see him, Dante stopped cold, his dark penetrating stare finally moving—scanning me from my head to my toes. I’d braided my long hair. My oversized sweatshirt hung to midthigh, and I’d changed from my sleeping shorts into a pair of exercise pants. Despite the fact the pants covered my legs to my ankles, by the way he was looking at me, I had the uncomfortable sensation that all my clothes had vanished.

His deep baritone voice sliced through the tension. “Are you hurt?”

Dante’s question seemed foreign, his tone too soft to match his menacing glare. The incongruity between his tone and stare caused my lower stomach to twist. My ability to speak was out of reach as my pulse pounded as I took in the man before me.

Questions came without answers.

Dante wasn’t a stranger, yet why was he in my house after the attack?

“No.She’s safe,” Miguel answered.

I nodded, leaning onto my bodyguard. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here to take you and your mother to Kansas City.”

From everything I’d been told during my upbringing, I should be wary of the man who was now second-in-command in the Kansas City Famiglia. I should be frightened of the Mafia, but I wasn’t. My sister married his brother. His sister married into the cartel. There was a bond that transcended the lifelong distrust, yet questions continued threatening my peace of mind from the fringe.

I peered up at Miguel. “I thought you were coming?”

He nodded. “Sí.”

Dante’s lips curled. “Don’t worry, little girl. Your father wouldn’t allow you to travel with me if he had reason to question my intentions.”

Little girl.

Asshole.

I stood taller and squared my shoulders. “Where’s Mama?”

“Her room,” Miguel answered.

“Tell her to hurry,” Dante said.