Beneath Scarred Vows (The Kastaris Greek Mafia #1)

Chapter 1 Katerina

KATERINA

Some women dream of a white dress and a perfect love story. I just want to feel something.

The old church is covered in white roses and wreaths. Candles flicker, highlighting some faces I recognize—most I don't. They all sit there, pretending this is a celebration. But they know. They all know.

They're just wolves in designer suits and couture gowns, dressed for the feast.

The priest speaks, but the words are empty, just a string of sounds that hold no meaning. The Greek phrases blur together as I stand motionless beside the monster who will be my husband. My uncle's final gift to me: a prison sentence dressed as salvation.

As I stand there, listening to holy words for an unholy union, I don't smile. I don't cry. Like with everything else in my life, I just let it happen.

Fourteen years ago, I watched my family burn.

Now, I watch myself disappear into the ashes.

Another death, just slower this time.

"Do you, Katerina Petrou, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do," I say, my voice hollow. Just empty words.

The attendees shift in their seats, disappointed by my lack of emotion. Did they really expect joy?

Ares Kastaris stands beside me like a shadow. Six foot four, sharp lines, and cold beauty. Admittedly, he's good-looking by anyone's standards, but I'm not so sure. And he doesn't smile either. He must be as uninterested as I am.

Then again, the new Don of the Kastaris family, the most powerful Greek criminal organization spanning two continents, doesn't need to.

When it's time, he slides the ring onto my finger. His grip is too firm. Possessive. Overcompensating. The metal scrapes against my knuckle, and I think—no, I know—it's deliberate.

As he does, I force myself to look directly at him. Dark eyes, almost black, watch me with an intensity that should make my skin crawl. Instead, I feel nothing.

After he places the ring on my hand, his gaze lingers on me.

He waits. Watching. Expecting something.

He'll be waiting a long time.

When it's my turn to give him the ring, I do it without hesitation. Without looking at him. No trembling hands. Just duty.

I do see his jaw tighten, a flicker of something shifting beneath the surface. He doesn't like being ignored.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the priest announces. "You may kiss the bride."

Ares leans in, one hand barely grazing the right side of my waist. I shift back slightly, barely noticeable, but his lips still press against mine.

Soft. That surprises me.

Our guests erupt in applause. Not for us. For them.

The alliance sealed in ink and blood. Two kingdoms united. The Kastaris and Petrou families, solidified through a marriage contract.

"When we leave, you will smile for the guests, Katerina." His voice is low, quiet enough that only I can hear it.

But I won't do it.

Before we turn to walk down the aisle, Ares stops me. "Don't pretend you don't hear me."

I turn to him. "I'm not pretending. I just don't care."

His fingers tighten around mine as we walk. My knuckles press together, the pressure almost painful. I don't react. Instead, I lift my lips in something that passes for happiness, and he loosens his grip.

"You could make this easier on yourself," he says while still looking forward.

"Perhaps."

His fingers flex slightly against mine again.

I glance at him, tilting my head slightly. "What did you expect of me?"

"Emotion," he says as he adjusts his tie.

"You mean tears?" I ask. "Begging?"

He looks at me.

"Well, sorry to disappoint."

He slips his free hand into his pocket, like he's forcing himself to stay composed.

"Careful," he murmurs.

I raise an eyebrow. "Of what?"

His eyes turn dark, unreadable. "Of making it a habit of disappointing me."

I don't answer. I just offer a sarcastic grin, small and empty, because I know it'll unsettle him more than anything I could say.

The church doors open, spilling golden Greek sunlight onto the marble. The moment we step outside, cameras flash, and the crowd waiting on the steps cheers.

Ares lifts our joined hands for them to see, an act of dominance, not affection. The new Don and his bride.

I let him. It doesn't matter.

To them, we are a victory. A kingdom solidified.

To me, we are nothing.

He leans in like he's about to kiss my cheek, but his lips never touch me. Instead, his breath skims my jaw as he murmurs, "We're not finished yet."

A flicker of unease tightens my stomach. "Meaning?"

Ares smirks for the cameras. "A bride deserves a wedding gift. And I have something special for you."

I swallow down the instinct to ask another question. It wouldn't matter.

The crowd celebrates as Ares leads me down the steps, his grip steady, unrelenting.

A car waits at the bottom.

Not a limo.

Not a town car.

Something darker. Sleeker.

Something meant to take me away from here.

Ares opens the door, watching me as he does. "Get in, Katerina."

The way he says it—I don't like it. It makes me uneasy.

Something tells me I won't like where we're going.

I don't ask. I just slide inside, my dress pooling around me as Ares follows.

The door closes.

The car pulls away.

And I know, without a doubt, this is where the real marriage begins.