Page 48 of Blood Vows

“Talking around me like I’m too stupid to understand what’s happening,” she said.

“No one thinks you're stupid,” Dante insisted.

“Then answer me.”

Marco sighed over the speaker. “Crimson Holdings is one of the companies that received money from your ghost accounts.”

Elena’s stomach dropped. “How much money?”

“Millions,” Marco said. She gripped the edge of the counter and Dante’s hand covered hers automatically, as though steadying her. Neither of them acknowledged it. Marco continued. “But that's not the biggest problem.”

“What is then?” Dante asked.

“I traced the company backward,” Marco said.

“What did you find?” Dante asked.

“It existed before Elena’s father died,” Marco said.

Elena frowned. “That doesn't make sense.”

“It gets worse,” Marco breathed. Dante’s fingers tightened around hers.

“How much worse?” she asked.

Marco paused. “Crimson Holdings was created twenty-seven years ago.” Elena stopped breathing. She was twenty-seven. Dante looked at her, and she knew he’d made the connection too.

“What date?” he asked. Marco gave it, and Elena felt the blood drain from her face. No—that wasn’t possible.

“What’s wrong?” Dante asked. She couldn't answer. “Elena.”

“That’s my birthday,” she whispered. Dante went completely still, and Marco swore through the phone. Elena pulled her hand from beneath Dante’s and stood, letting her chair scrape loudly across the hardwood floor.

“No.” She shook her head. “That has to be a coincidence.”

Dante rose. “You already know how I feel about coincidences.”

“Not now,” she breathed.

“Elena—” he started.

“Not now, Dante,” she spat, cutting him off. She walked away from the island. Her father had known about Crimson Holdings when she was a child. The company had been created on the day she was born. Accounts were later opened in her name and had millions moving through them. Her father left her a key to a safe-deposit box, yet she had no idea where it was. Hale sent her a warning about the red ledger, and now people wanted her dead.

“Um, I’ll call you when I have something more,” Marco said, ending the call.

“Coward,” Dante breathed.

She turned back to him. “What if this was always about me?”

Dante’s expression hardened. “We don't know that.”

“You just said you don't believe in coincidences,” she reminded.

“I don't,” he said.

“Then what am I supposed to believe?”

He came around the island. “That we don't have enough information yet.”