Vow to Me: A Mafia Arranged Marriage (The Romano Empire Book 1)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Istep out of the meeting being held for one of our legal business dealings to answer my father’s phone call, knowing he wouldn’t be calling me during a meeting if it wasn’t important.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Get to the estate, there’s something you need to see. Make it quick,” he says before hanging up.

I instruct my assistant to tell the others in the conference room that I’ve been called away in an emergency before leaving the building and driving to my father’s estate. I drove like a bat out of hell to make it here in just under twenty minutes.

I walk into the office and my steps falter when I see Marco and Enzo glaring daggers at each other. “What’s going on? Why do you two look like you want to kill each other?” I ask before closing the door and taking a seat in front of Dad.

“Because he won’t give her the—” Enzo starts but is cut off by Marco.

“E-fucking-nough Enzo!” he bellows. “It’s as clear as fucking day,” he growls and gestures towards a small brown package on the desk. I can’t remember the last time I saw Marco lose his temper the way he is right now.

I stare at the envelope as if it’ll give me the answers to whatever the fuck is going on.

Dad clears his throat and slides the package towards me before he swallows. Theres pity in his eyes and I fucking hate the sight.

What the goddamn hell is going on?

I take the package and study each of them with a raised brow before opening it and pulling out a note and thumb drive.

Did you ever wonder how we always

knew how to find your pretty little

wife, Romano? You should keep a closer eye on your toys.

My breath stalls and I choke down the denial crawling up my throat before inserting the thumb drive into the laptop in front of me. I click on the file with Izzy’s name on and I furrow my brow while examining the picture I’m presented with.

Theres a photo of Izzy in a store at the mall and she’s stood next to a tall, black-haired woman. It looks like they’re talking as Izzy passes her something.

I click to the next image and it’s the same woman again, only this time it’s an image of her handing something to Mu?oz.

Rage, like nothing ever before bubbles up inside me but I push it down and click to the next image.

The image that greets me makes me fucking sick to my stomach and black dots line my vision. Its Izzy, my fucking wife, sat on Mu?oz’s lap in a club. She’s wearing a wig, but I’d know my fucking wife anywhere.

What the fuck were you doing Iz?

The time stamp on the image is from a few days before the wedding so she could have just been getting the information she needed about the Amate’s.

I click the screen again and this time, it’s a video. I press play and force myself to watch as my wife grinds her ass up against Mu?oz in the middle of the club. They’re wearing the same clothes as the image before in the video. I feel fucking sick.

I’m going to fucking kill him. I’ll rip out his insides while I make her fucking watch.

I’ll string him up by his fucking balls while I carve into his fucking chest, I’ll—

“There’s one more you need to see son,” my father whispers, and I take a deep breath before clicking the screen again. It’s another video, only this time, it’s dated with today’s date.

I press play and my head fucking swims. It’s Izzy on the sidewalk about a block away from our apartment. Theres a man stood next to a black car and once she see’s him she stands and stares as him for a beat before running into his arms, they stand and fucking hug each other for what feels like minutes, she’s crying, and I have to sit and watch the woman I love more than anything in this world get into a car with another man. It’s like a scene out of a goddamn romance movie. I can feel the emotion wafting off her through the screen and if I weren’t already seated it would have brought me to my fucking knees. Christ, I feel my heart shatter inside my chest as my soul fucking crumbles to pieces at my feet.

My chest aches and I can’t fucking breathe. My eyes sting and I blink to try and clear my vision.

The pain.

The lies.

The fucking betrayal.

I take out my phone to call Izzy, but the line cuts off without ringing.

I press Tomasso’s contact but it just rings and rings before going to voicemail.

“It might not be what it looks like, we could have it all—” once again, Enzo is cut off. Only this time it’s by a knock at the door. Dad yells for whoever it is to come in and one of our foot soldiers comes in, his face pale.

“Sorry to interrupt, but Tomasso Greco was found dead in an alley with this hanging out of his neck,” he says before handing a plastic bag to Marco and leaving the room.

Marco glances at me before taking the object out of the bag and I see fucking red.

It’s a five-inch blade with a gold embossed handle.

It’s one of Izzy’s knives.

I’d know it fucking anywhere considering she treats them like her fucking children.

She refuses to leave the house without at least one strapped to her.

She killed him then ran off with another fucking man.

She left her knife, so we’d know it was her who killed him.

I’m going to fucking find her, then I’ll make her fucking pay.

What a goddamn joke, I gave her fucking everything. I gave her all of me, and she stabbed me in the heart the same way she did Tomasso in his neck.

Tomasso.

Fuck, a man I’ve known nearly all my life is dead, and it was my wife that killed him.

“There’s nothing else to it, Enzo. I think the picture painted is pretty clear. My wife is a lying, traitorous bitch. We need to fucking find her. We don’t tolerate treachery, even if I am married to her,” I growl and throw the laptop at the wall where the screen shatters. Just like my fucking mind. I don’t know if I’m going to be sick or go on a murderous rampage, the emotions swirling around inside me make my head ache and I have to close my eyes while trying to focus on my breathing.

Fuck this.

Fuck her.

Fuck it all.

Fuck everything.

Run and hide, little demon. I’ll stop at nothing to destroy you, just like you’ve destroyed me.

She was my queen, my love, my life. And now she’s my prey.

Five days and fucking nothing. Theres no sign of her. She left everything in the apartment. She didn’t take a single thing; I came home five days ago, and fucking destroyed the place in a fit of rage. She even left her laptop, but I refrained from setting it on fire on the off chance it can help us locate her.

I keep thinking back to that text she got while we were in the hospital. Clearly, I’m a fucking idiot for believing I could trust her and thinking it was just some random from her past.

I’m up on the roof of our building, staring out at the city below me. For some reason, we never came up here together, which I’m glad for because it’s now the only place in the building that isn’t haunted with memories of her.

Every time I’m in the apartment I see her lying on the sofa, rolling her eyes at me while I talk shit about whatever she’s watching. I see her sat at the kitchen island working on her laptop as she scrunches her brow in that fucking adorable way at what she’s reading. I can’t even sleep in my own bed because it fucking smells like her.

I fucking miss her. And that’s ridiculous, I’m supposed to fucking hate her, yet I feel like I’m missing a piece of myself.

The pain hasn’t left since I watched her jump into another man’s arms. I just wish I could forget about her, forget about the good times we had spent laughing, forget about that fucking night on the beach.

Jesus. None of it was real. It was all a fucking lie.

We’ve turned the fucking city inside out looking for her, but she left no trace of herself anywhere. We tried following the car they left in on the city’s cameras, but it was no good. They’ve vanished into thin air. I debated calling her father, but he doesn’t give a shit about her so it would be pointless. We also need to find out who the fuck sent us the thumb drive, because they’re the ones who tried to blow up my fucking brother.

Did you ever wonder how we always knew how to find your pretty little wife, Romano?

Fuck, does that mean that she planned it? She knew what would fucking happen. My fucking brother could have died. She could have fucking died.

I take a large gulp from the bottle of whiskey I’m holding to swallow the bile that claws up my throat at the thought.

I hear the door to the roof click open and a quiet curse from behind me. Great, just what I fucking need.

Marco and Alec take a seat on either side of me, and I inwardly groan. This better not be a fucking intervention.

“Fuck Marco, I knew it had to be bad when it was you who called me, but I didn’t fucking expect this,” Alec says.

“I fucking told you, asshole. We need him to get his head on straight.”

“We need to take him out to get him laid, or burn all the bitch’s clothes, that will help, right? Or we could get him a voodoo doll that looks like her for him to stick pins in.”

“Why the fuck did I call you?” Marco groans.

“Have you found her yet? Have you killed her yet? That’s the punishment for treachery in your world, right?”

“No one’s fucking laying a hand on her,” I bark as I finally join the conversation that they’ve been having as though I’m not sat right fucking between them.

“Luc—”

“No Marco. I don’t give a fuck what you say, you won’t fucking hurt her, you won’t lay a hand on her, you’ll let me deal with her.”

“We need to fucking find her first.”

“Right,” I say with a nod and turn towards Alec. “Can you help? Can you try and find her? And find out who the fuck sent us the thumb drive? Our resident computer geek is useless, we need your help man.”

“Sure, man. But only if you sober the fuck up and sort your shit out. Drinking yourself stupid isn’t helping matters,” he says and squeezes my shoulder.

“Thanks,” I say and settle my gaze on Marco. “Where’s Enzo? I’m surprised he didn’t join in on this little outing of yours.”

He quietly curses before peering up at the sky. “He still doesn’t believe it, he won’t speak to me or Dad because he thinks she’s innocent,” he says with a swallow, and I shake my head with a sigh.

It wasn’t only me she fucked over, Enzo let her in, he let her get close and now he’ll refuse to believe the evidence that’s clear as fucking day because of her Oscar worthy acting skills and the fact that it seemed like she understood him when no one other than us ever has.

“He’ll see the truth for himself once we find her, it’ll fucking hurt him the same was as its fucking hurting me. But at least he’ll see the truth.” I give him and confident nod and hand him the bottle I’m holding. We may as well get fucked up tonight, because starting tomorrow I’m putting all my effort and resources into finding my little liar of a wife.