Page 43 of His Vicious Vow
“All right. I’ll let the doctor know.” The nurse gives me a smile before leaving.
I close my eyes against the question of this being wrong. This is my body, my decision. Sandro doesn’t want me. He needs me to take over Vegas. I’m a means to an end for him.
A brief knock and Dr. Huber enters. She’s nice, and I love how she doesn’t act as though me being fat is an insult to her or something. “Hi, Carina. So birth control?”
I nod. “Yes, please. I didn’t like the pill. It’s another reason why I’d like the shot or implant.”
She pages through my file. “Okay, talk to me. Are you safe?”
Her eyes are running over me with concern. I shrug. I’m hoping she didn’t notice the huge guy by the door. “I’m fine.”
Does she look disappointed? “I think the shot is the best way to go. The implant can have issues. If you’ll give me a minute I’ll be right back with that.”
Only a few minutes later she’s back with a capped syringe. She swabs my arm and gives me the shot.
“Is there anything else you need?” Dr. Huber asks while she’s writing in my chart.
“No, I’m good. When do I need to get a new shot?”
“August, it’s good for ninety days.” She looks up from the file. “Have a good day.” Huh, she’s never been this quick to end an appointment before.
I spend the drive home patting myself on the back for being a step ahead of Sandro. The shot will protect me until I can find a way to escape.
Nevermind it was hot as fuck when he said the most filthy things in the world about getting me pregnant. I blush thinking about it.
I’m pulled away from my thoughts by us stopping. We’re back at Carlo’s. My mom is waiting and walks me back up to the room.
CHAPTER 16
Carina
I’m allowed out for the last fitting of the maid of honor dress I will wear at Celia’s wedding. The entire drive there I’m hoping I get to see Celia again. When I go inside I see the place is empty of everyone except the dress maker. Her smile is forced, “Hi, Carina. Let’s get you into the dress in case any adjustments are necessary.”
I follow her into the back. The moment the door is closed to her studio area, she locks it. “Celia is waiting. She’s going to help you escape.”
I freeze. Before I can figure out what to say, she opens a closet then pulls back a panel. Celia is there with her bestie Sergei. The bestie who Milos planted as her guard.
“Celia?”
Celia hugs me tight. “It’s going to be okay, sweetie. I promise. I’ve got you a debit card with all the money I have, nineteen thousand and change. Here’s the instructions on how to check the balance with the password.”
I take the card and paper with instructions. “Thank you.” Comes out of me instead of the no screaming inside my head. Closing my eyes, I ignore the screaming. This is my only chance; I have to take it—right?
“This is my passport. You’re booked on a flight to Florence. It leaves in three hours. Go buy a carry-on and enough clothes to fill it. I’m taking your phone and leaving it in the dressing room. Then we’re going to drop you at the airport.”
Tears are pouring out of me, the tears are supposed to be of joy—of relief. Except that’s not what it feels like. No. It isn’t that. It can’t be. Forcing it all down, I focus on Celia. Celia has taken a chance that could cause so many problems for not only her but Milos. How could I refuse this? Stomach twisting, I swallow my fears and misgivings and follow her out of the tunnel.
We stop at a Target for the carry-on and fill it with an extremely fast shopping trip. I wince at the ugly five pack of underwear I’m forced to buy and the uglier bras. Lydia showed me the kind of bras and panties I was sure I would never be able to fit into. Apparently, it was available but I had to spend a lot more. Since it was Sandro paying for it, I bought some in every color without concern for the price.
We’re back in the black SUV, me packing as Celia sets up the burner phone she bought. “I’m putting my cell phone number in here for in case of emergency but you know you shouldn’t call me, right?”
I nod. “Yeah. I won’t unless it’s an emergency. Carlo and Sandro will be watching you. I’ll give it a few months. The email address you set up under your middle name is where I’ll reach out. Can you also put Tony Sabatini’s number in there? Just in case.”
“Do you need me to get into your store and close it for you?”
“No, I’m good. I closed it out a few weeks ago.” Before I went to New York to see Ben. I don’t miss the way Sergei is watching us in the mirror and decide against asking her to find me somewhere to stay. Our eyes meet, my eyes flick to Sergei. She sighs and nods.
We stay quiet until the car stops in front of the gate for the ticket she emailed me. “Here’s my ID. Flash it and the passport with confidence. You’ll be fine.”