Corrupt Vows (Vicious Mafia Kings #1)

Chapter 4

Nico Russo

Amusement and excitement buzz through me as the tempting little morsel scampers up the stairs.

I never thought I’d get to fuck Serenity Vivaldi, but now that I can, I’ll snatch her up with both hands.

She’s mine.

All mine.

My fingers itch to touch her again. Her soft, delicate wrist was only the beginning.

I can’t wait to explore every inch of her.

The crushing weight of responsibility always rests on my shoulders, but with Serenity included in the unexpected change of terms between the Russo and Vivaldi families, unease sweeps through me.

I haven’t tripled my family’s wealth or kept them safe from the human varmints crawling around New York City by ignoring my instincts, but I also can’t afford to falter, so I peel my gaze away from the empty stairwell and meet Matteo Vivaldi’s hard eyes.

“She’ll come around,” he says.

I check my cufflinks and quirk a brow as I respond.

“Whether she does or not doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Bianca, the female head of the Vivaldi family, places her palm over her sternum and leans forward.

“She’s never acted out like this before. I’ll have a talk with her. She’ll see this is best, and I’ll make sure she won’t embarrass you during the wedding preparations,” she says.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of her from now on. If I can handle my sisters, I can handle her without breaking a sweat.” Although I would very much like to, especially in the bedroom. Or on the kitchen counter. Or in the backseat of my car. Or with her face mashed against the glass window of my condo. Or in the shower. Or —I stop my filthy thoughts before I disgrace myself and take a sip of my whiskey to clear my mind.

“I need to know what we’re dealing with,” I say.

Bianca glances at Matteo, but he gives nothing away. Giorgio scowls and lifts his hand, but drops it before running it through his hair. It’s too late. He’s given them all away with his nervous gesture already.

“Who attacked Camilla?”

Their silence reveals too much.

“You don’t know?” I ask.

I congratulate myself for sounding so respectful when my insides are on fire.

“I’ve eliminated three possibilities,” Giorgio says, but the frustration in his tone says they don’t have another viable option.

I nod, honoring his efforts, even as my frustration grows.

“What happened?”

I need as many details as they’ll give me. Guilt gnaws at my insides. I kept Camilla at a distance, and now she’s in the hospital, hurt so badly her parents called off our engagement. I won’t let the same happen with Serenity.

Fear squeezes my chest. Serenity will be the first person solely in my care. As my wife, she’ll have only me to protect her. Becoming my bride—the bride of the Russo family heir—will paint a big red target on her back.

The Vivaldi family has already proven I can’t trust them with their own daughter’s safety.

A small part of me curls in on itself in terror, but I ignore the pathetic reaction and stop my memories before they rise. I buried them with my mother almost nineteen years ago.

I listen to Matteo’s matter-of-fact retelling of his daughter’s attack and see his anger for what it is: he’s furious someone dared challenge his power. He’s more insulted than worried about his daughter’s health.

My mouth sours, but I relax my features and listen without reaction.

“How much does Serenity know?”

I’m guessing less than I do now, given her reaction.

Bianca shrugs and says, “We told her the truth: Camilla was in a car accident.”

I grunt and finish my whiskey.

“How many guards do you have on her?” I aim the question at Matteo.

“Two. A guard and a driver. More, if she’s going out of our territory,” he responds.

I set down my glass and twist it between my fingertips until the design faces outward.

“I’ll add my own measures of security.”

It isn’t a request, but he agrees as though it is. I hold in my growl and lean my elbows on my knees.

“Give me access to all her devices.”

Giorgio stiffens, but Bianca smiles and says, “Of course.”

I end the conversation and shake hands with Matteo before leaving the house. The bright noonday sun heats my head and shoulders in the short distance between the front door and my car.

I drive away before I give in to temptation and storm back into the Vivaldi mansion to ravage the tempting principessa hiding up in her tower.

My cellphone rings. I turn on Bluetooth and answer my sister’s call.

“You remember you’re my driver today, right?”

My heart softens at her bossy tone. Despite being a legal adult at the young age of twenty, the twelve years between us make her seem forever a child to me. A spoiled, well-loved, headstrong kid who never misses the opportunity to razz me.

“I remember,” I respond.

“Well, you aren’t here,” she snarls.

I check the clock on the dash.

“I still have twenty minutes.”

She gives a long-suffering sigh.

“You’ll be here in exactly twenty minutes, won’t you?”

“You know it.”

I hang up and smile as my mind fills the silence by imagining her tirade. I don’t need to hear her to predict her response. Right now, she’s probably mumbling a slew of curse words at her darkened phone screen.

I pull into the underground parking lot with five minutes to spare, but she’s already waiting at the bottom of the elevators. Despite the security at the gate, she remains inside the glass room with three bodyguards standing strategically around her.

She waves and pushes open the door, so I roll down the window and stop.

“Go back in. I’ll come around with the SUV,” I say.

I know what she’s about to say before she even opens her mouth, and I’d be wasting my energy trying to convince her.

“No, I want to go in this. It may not be a sports car, but it’s a hell of a lot lower than the tanks papà insists I ride in.”

I sigh and unlock the doors. It kills me to watch her limp around the front of the car, but she’d elbow me to death if I got out and ‘made a fuss’ over her.

The overhead light turns on as she opens the door. I grit my teeth and hold my breath as she steps closer to the seat.

When she grabs the oh shit handle, I growl, but she ignores me and leans her weight onto her prosthetic, lifts her foot into the car, and plops down into the seat.

“Natalie! That’s not—”

“Safe. Yeah, yeah, I know, that’s what the doctor said, but this way is so much easier, and it works , so don’t scold me like a child.”

I watch with gritted teeth as she situates herself more comfortably into the seat and shuts the door.

“Plus, it’s just my foot. It’s not like my entire leg is gone.”

I place both hands on the wheel and inhale. She rolls her eyes, but latches her seatbelt when I tap my fingers impatiently.

“I won’t promise to stop,” she says, earning herself a glare. “I already do so many asinine things just to ‘ be safe’ ,”—yep, she even includes air quotes, the brat—“but you and papà constantly smother me with your concern . I need to rebel somehow. Wouldn’t you rather it be how I get in the car and not how I spend my nights?”

Goddammit, she has a point. She’s the only person in the world who can defuse my anger, fill me with concern, and frustrate me to hell and back with just a few words.

Although, after the agreement change with the Vivaldi’s today, she might not be the only one with the power to frustrate me anymore. Serenity’s unexpected reactions woke the beast within me. She stirred me up and walked away as though she had every right.

I’ll ensure she sees the error of her ways as soon as possible.

One week. I only have to wait one week before she’s trapped under my thumb.

“Are we sitting here all day or…?” Natalie’s sarcastic tone stops my daydreaming.

I sigh and shift into drive before swatting her hand when she reaches for the center console.

“Ow! I’m not reaching for the radio, you cavolo . I learned that lesson a long time ago. The vents are blasting hot air at my feet. Are you trying to melt my prosthetic?”

I grip the steering wheel so hard it’s a wonder it doesn’t crumple under the pressure. She rolls her eyes when I grunt in acknowledgement and let her adjust the temperature controls.

“Was Ermanno sitting here last? Does he not have any sensation left in his feet? Why in the hell did he have the heat on in the summer?”

I don’t have any answers to her questions—other than, yes, Ermanno was the last one to sit there—so I let the sound of her voice hang in the air.

She sits back and props her elbow on the armrest and looks out the window with her chin in her hand. For several minutes, we weave through the streets in silence, with only the bustle of the city sneaking in through the closed windows.

“What was mamma’s favorite color?”

Her question punches me in the gut. I turn into the doctor’s parking lot and roll around to the back of the building, using the excuse of driving to distance myself from the pain of her loss.

“Why?” I ask.

Natalie pulls her purse into her lap and rummages through the contents, but there’s no way she lost something in such a small bag, so she’s using it as an excuse to not look at me. A lump forms in my throat. She’s not hiding her face for her own comfort. She’s doing it to spare me. I cut off all emotions, pull into a parking spot, and turn off the car. I’m too much of a coward to refuse her olive branch.

“They’ll order special liners for the new prosthetic, and I can choose the colors. I want one to be for mamma,” she says, still rummaging through her tiny bag.

“Any shade of purple, but she preferred the darker ones because they were for royalty back in the day.”

She pauses before closing her purse and opening her door.

“Thanks,” she says before wriggling her way out of the car.

I rush to help her, but she gives me a warning look, so I wait until she stands and shuts her door to offer her my arm.

“You know this is ridiculous,” she says as she slips her arm into mine.

By this, she means my chivalrous act. A tatted, suited man in his late thirties escorting his fully grown sister—because our coloring, facial features, and mannerisms are too similar to label us as anything but family—must look ridiculous to the outsider’s eye, but I don’t give a fuck. I failed to protect her nineteen years ago. All the pampering in the world wouldn’t be enough to make up for my past mistakes.

I’ve given everything to ensure Natalie remains safe, yet it’s still not enough. I’ll never be able to take away her pain or make up for what she’s lost.

I won’t be enough for Serenity, either.

Beyond the battle of wills and the chemistry between us, I can’t let Serenity Vivaldi in. She’s too much of a risk. Ever since she took my sister under her wing, despite the other kids ostracizing her for only having one foot, she’s stolen a piece of my soul. Even then, I watched her from afar, knowing she had the power to shatter my defenses if I let her get too close.

Which pissed me off and turned me into an asshole whenever she came near.

I don’t regret it. I need the emotional distance between us.

Serenity must remain a business contract between my family and the Vivaldi’s. My obsession with her must end. I’ll enjoy taking her body and wrecking her for anyone else, but I can’t let her into my heart.

She’s mine, but I can’t be hers.