Corrupt Vows (Vicious Mafia Kings #1)

Chapter 8

Nico Russo

I don’t know what game my bride-to-be is playing, but I refuse to play along. From burning me alive in the dressing room to freezing me out the rest of the evening, she swapped between extremes with ridiculous ease yesterday.

Did she take acting classes along with her art classes? The minx knows exactly how to rile my temper.

I swirl my ice in my glass and check my reflection in the floor-length mirror for the hundredth time.

If I’d had these broad shoulders nineteen years ago, would my mother still be alive? Would Natalie still have her foot?

Would I still wake in a cold sweat every night?

I want to believe I’ve grown stronger in more than just my body, but I’m not sure I have.

The bed’s reflection mocks me. I haven’t slept in this room in over a week, and the last time I did, I laid where I dropped—on top of the comforter—and woke an hour or two later with a jolt.

Serenity has joined my nightmares. I used to dream only of the accident, but this morning I woke reaching across my desk searching for her.

Desk, couch, chair, lounger, it doesn’t matter where I drop, my nightmares find me. In my sleep, I stumbled through the darkness screaming her name, but she never responded, and now, if I don’t keep a tight grip on my mind, it wanders back to the fear and loneliness of my dream.

I down the last of my whiskey and place the glass on the empty vanity.

Serenity’s makeup will line the counter soon. Whether she moves into my room tonight or in four months depends on how she acts today.

My balls tighten as I remember her curves in the elegant white summer dress. One glance at any eligible bachelor at our engagement party will seal her fate. I won’t be able to hold back if I sense other sharks circling my prey.

Remembering how she responded to my kiss hardens my cock. I curse and grab my phone off my bedside table before stalking into the hall.

Jealousy sours my stomach. I searched through Serenity’s call log and text message history. She’s always been close to Alfonso Bonnetti, but I never realized how close. I don’t like it.

The last time she contacted him was a few days ago. I bet she’ll approach him at the party.

Which means she’ll be in my bed and not in the guest room tonight. My cock twitches in anticipation.

Until the thought of her soft lips on Alfonso Bonnetti’s spears through me. She must have had a lot of practice to be as good of a kisser as she is. She nearly caused me to cum in my trousers yesterday.

With a terrible scratching sound, I whip my keys off the front table and clear my mind.

Time to go get engaged to the woman who keeps invading my thoughts.

I pull the family car around and wait in the little glass room at the bottom of the elevators for the rest of my party. My father, his second wife, and my half-sister don’t make me wait long. As imposing as always, my father, Dante Russo, wears his greying hair with pride, and despite being in his sixties, the hard glint he wore when I was a child remains in his eyes. I shake his hand and kiss his cheeks before turning to my stepmom. At forty years old, Kara is closer to my age than my father’s, but the twenty-four-year gap between them doesn’t matter. My father is neither full of rage like he was the year my mother died, nor is he an empty shell like the years after that. They’re happy, and that’s all that matters. I take her hand and land a quick kiss to her knuckles before handing her back to my father. They share a smile I never thought I’d see on my father’s face again.

A part of me resents him for moving on from my mother, but Kara helped guide Natalie into the headstrong, fierce young woman she is today, so I don’t ruminate on it.

Bella, my fourteen-year-old stepsister, grimaces before mock gagging.

“You aren’t going to start kissing again, are you? Because I just ate and don’t want to spew chunks everywhere,” she says.

Kara laughs and leans in for a kiss from her husband.

“Mamma, no! That’s so gross!” Bella says before darting around me and hiding her face against my back.

“It’s nice to see you, too, Bella,” I chuckle.

I tried so hard to hate the child my father had with another woman, but the little spitfire wouldn’t let me.

The elevator pings and the doors slide open. I brace for the inevitable chaos as Natalie joins us.

She laughs and steps off the elevator.

“Just let them get it all out now, Bella. It’s better than being embarrassed in front of everyone.”

“They never stop, though,” Bella whines.

Natalie hisses, grabs Bella’s hand, and pulls her away from me.

“Don’t ruin his suit on his special day. Actually, more importantly, don’t mess up your makeup. It’s killer today. Who did your eye shadow?”

“I did.” The pride in Bella’s voice echoes through the tiny room.

Although we often eat dinner together in my parent’s floor-through apartment, Natalie has her own studio and living space on the floor between mine and theirs. She says she enjoys her independence, but I wonder if it’s for show, since she still spends so much time with Bella.

I stop them from wandering out of the glass room by blocking the door. They sigh and wait for me to do a full walk around of the SUV before opening the back door for them.

Bella doesn’t hesitate to grab my offered arm and hoist herself into the vehicle, but Natalie refuses my help.

My father gestures me away once the girls are settled in the back, so I hand the door to him and stalk around the front to the driver’s seat. After settling Kara into the car, my father walks around and sits behind me.

Their chatter fills the silence. No one asks for music. They include me only occasionally, but I don’t mind. I keep my attention on the road, painfully aware of how important and fragile my cargo is, even after I pull up to the Vivaldi’s second house. Used mainly for social gatherings and business meetings, the mansion resembles the home they live in, but allows them an extra layer of security in their everyday lives.

Not willing to allow anyone else to drive the vehicle while my family is inside, I wave the attendant away, pull up to the front steps, and wait until everyone is out of the vehicle before handing him the keys.

The entire Vivaldi family stands at the top of the stairs, waiting to greet us, but all I see is Serenity. With her hair tied back and her shoulders bared, her throat looks like the perfect handhold for when I ravage her mouth later. I regret allowing her to wear a dress so revealing, because even though she’s tastefully covered, her curves could tempt a saint into sin.

I am no saint.

She meets my gaze, but looks away after a few seconds. I follow my father up the stairs, allowing him the place of respect even though I handle most of the Russo family business affairs. He founded our fame. I grew our wealth.

I’m not done building our family legacy, either.

We greet Matteo and Bianca before Giorgio and Narciso—Matteo’s brother and consigliere—join in. After a few moments of catching up, my father gestures for me to continue down the line while he remains with the head of the household.

I step in front of Camilla for the first time since our parents called off our marriage. She stands with her shoulders back, upholding the Vivaldi pride, but with her arm in a cast, her makeup heavy on her face to hide the lingering bruises, and a loose-fitting pantsuit covering her curves, she’s obviously still recovering. With her defenses in place, she meets my gaze with empty eyes and places her fingers in my offered hand.

She’s gained new demons since the last time I saw her, and I relate enough to keep my mouth shut when she doesn’t offer me a verbal greeting. I release her hand and move on without a word.

Serenity’s glare as I turn my attention to her takes me by surprise. Not even two minutes ago, she seemed nervous and scared, but not an ounce of uncertainty remains in her now. Daggers of hatred shoot from her eyes.

I smirk in anticipation of ruining whatever game she intends to play today.

“Good afternoon, Serenity,” I say as I offer her my hand.

For a moment, she clings to her stubbornness and waits long past what’s socially acceptable before lifting her hand and placing it in mine. Natalie and Bella greet Camilla, but the somber silence flowing between the three of them infects the tension between Serenity and me. She flicks her attention to Natalie.

I take advantage of her distraction and bend to press my lips against her knuckles, but instead of a chaste kiss, I linger and sneak the tip of my tongue between her fingers in a slow, sensual caress.

I smirk as she turns wide eyes down at me. Her pupils dilate. She flushes and tries to pull away, but I keep her hand firmly in mine as I straighten.

Natalie elbows my side. I quirk a brow down at her and stand my ground.

Yesterday afternoon, I let her gatekeep me from my future bride, but not today. We’re no longer in their territory—dress shops, nail salons, and jewelry stores will always be women’s terrain—but today’s party isn’t for the ladies.

It’s for the men. I plan to show every swinging dick and wandering eye just how unavailable Serenity Vivaldi is now.

She’s mine.

I pivot to stand beside her and slide my hand along her lower back to rest my fingers on the upper swell of her hip, never letting go of her other hand. She stiffens as I lean down to murmur in her ear.

“Ready to greet your future sisters-in-law, principessa ?”

She gives me a scathing side glare before offering me the fakest, most condescending smile I’ve ever received in my entire life.

“I’m happy to become part of their family,” she says.

She delivers her verbal jab with such precision I can’t help but admire her even as my anger rises. My sisters are welcome to become part of her inner circle.

I’m not.

When I realize how effectively she’s baiting me, I smirk down at her, release her hand, and pull her tighter against my side. I meet Natalie’s comically wide eyes and dig my fingers into Serenity’s hip as I speak.

“Girls, meet my future wife, Serenity Vivaldi, soon to be Serenity Russo. Treat her well. She’s precious to me.”

There’s no mistaking the sarcasm in my voice. Natalie gasps my name like a mother scolding a wayward child. Camilla’s dead eyes ghost over us before she spins on her heel and disappears into the house. When no one stops her, I study her family’s faces. A frown tugs at Bianca’s lips. Matteo’s eyes harden before he dons an expression of concern.

My gaze catches on Narciso Vivaldi. As her uncle, he has every right to show concern for her, but the tilt of his lips doesn’t quite match the gleam in his eyes.

“What the h—” Natalie looks toward our stepmom and rethinks her response before continuing, “What in the world are you doing?”

“I’m past due for my rabies shot, remember?”

“Are you going to pee on her?”

“If I need to.”

“Ew. Fine, I can take a hint. Sorry, Nitty, we’ll hang out later,” Natalie says before weaving her fingers through Bella’s and tugging her away. The fourteen-year-old looks at me as though I’ve gone senile.

“Was that really necessary?” Serenity asks.

“No, but I enjoyed it.”

She sighs and shifts to move away, but I keep her tucked tightly against my side.

“This is where you’ll stay all evening,” I say with a tad bit more menace than I intend, but the thought of another man touching her makes me want to slice throats.

She swallows and wraps her arms around herself, but I tsk in disapproval, grab her wrist, and tug her arm, but her hiss of pain stops me.

I slip my hand over the back of hers and intertwine our fingers, shocking her into silence and startling myself with how delicate and feminine her digits look in mine, and extend her arm across my front.

A bruise lines the inside of her forearm. The half crescent indentations match the pattern of a man’s hand, and for a moment bile rises in my throat as I fear I hurt her yesterday, but then the yellowing edges register, and I realize she’s had this for a few days.

“Who hurt you?”

The question emerges as more growl than words.

She tugs in search of freedom, but I don’t grant it.

“Who hurt you, Serenity?”

“You did,” she snaps.

I shake my head and extend her arm higher, forcing her onto her toes.

“I didn’t give you these bruises.”

“It was fine yesterday, then you made it worse. You’re hurting me now, so let go,” she demands.

I lower her hand enough to ease the strain on her shoulder and study her inner arm more closely. Whoever grabbed her had bigger hands than mine. He’ll pay. After a few deep breaths, I calm myself by pressing my lips against the inside of her wrist.

Her soft gasp travels straight to my balls.

I trail my lips down her inner arm as I speak.

“You will tell me who dared to put his hands on you. I don’t care how dirty I have to play; I’ll make you tell me.” Goosebumps pebble her flesh as I kiss the crook of her elbow.

Although I’m tempted to continue, I know I won’t stop if I allow myself to go any further, so I rise from my awkward position and tuck her arm around my lower back while she’s distracted.

She fists the back of my suit coat and tries to use it as a handle to push me away, but I tease my fingers up her side and quirk my brow at her, daring her to fight me while my hand rests along the underside of her breast. To my frustration, she heeds my warning and stops struggling.

As the first guests arrive, I will my throbbing cock to behave and aim my focus toward our surroundings.

After today, everyone will know Serenity Vivaldi belongs to me.

Which means I’ve drawn the biggest target on her back. I’ll do anything to protect her.

Except, with her perfect curves tucked against my side, my attention continually drifts to her instead of focusing on potential threats.

I can’t let her body distract me, not when her safety is at stake.

And I can’t let her innocent eyes and sharp mind steal their way into my heart, not when I have nothing to give her in return.

Despite her being in my arms, I put as much distance between us as I can. She does the same.

Resentment sprouts deep within my chest and grows every second she ignores me. I’ll be her husband, but she shows no signs of wanting to be close.

I should be grateful she’s reluctant, but I’m not.

I want to be the center of her attention. Always.

Starting tonight, and every night until death do us part, I’ll ensure she’s aware of who she belongs to.

She’s mine.

All mine.