Twisted Vows

CHAPTER ONE

Nobody smart plays fair.

Ari

The wild child of the Mafia. The rulebreaker. The one who never learns.

These are the labels people throw at me like punches.

Rebellion is the only thing that makes me feel alive in a world where I’m nothing more than a pawn, and unfortunately, the safety net I’ve counted on is about to leave.

Hearing the echo of heavy steps on the stone tells me it’s happening much sooner than I’d like.

I turn, finding Fausto at the top of the stairs, his usual smirk softer. Even after all these years, it’s hard to reconcile that boyish face with the strength and brutality that lie beneath it.

“You sure you’re ready for this fancy promotion?” I ask, folding my arms.

“Yeah,” he says gruffly. “Now that I’ve fully recovered from the bullet I took for you, it’s time for the next step.”

Ignoring the tightness in my throat, I focus on the sound of an SUV thundering down the drive. “It’s a shame the kidnapping was a bust for both of us.” I bite the inside of my cheek. “One minute, we’re having a perfectly normal day, and the next, you’re being shot while the Cartel monsters drag Abby and me off to a warehouse.”

“Didn’t you kill one of those Cartel monsters with nothing more than the knife in your ring?”

“Of course,” I reply, forcing a smirk. “It would’ve been shameful if I stood around like a helpless princess from a Disney movie.”

He shakes his head. “At least you got a couple of months of freedom out of it.”

“And you got a promotion.” My fingers twitch at my side. I want to grab his arm to stop him from leaving. “It was fun, right?” I swallow the emotions that won’t do me any good. “All the stuff we got away with.”

“We’re lucky to still be alive.” He clears his throat. “Since I’m not gonna be here to pull your ass out of the fire, be careful, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I know the drill,” I wave him off, ignoring the sting of abandonment. “Don’t cause a scandal, keep my head down, blah blah.”

“Seriously,” he places a hand on my shoulder, grounding me. “You were lucky with the kidnapping thing. Shit like that doesn’t always work out so good.”

“I know.” Looking down, I swallow my sadness. “Hey, do you want me to send donuts from Dunkin? Maybe the ones in Chicago aren’t as good as the ones here.”

“Nah.” He pats his stomach. “I gotta be in fighting shape.”

“Fair enough.”

“Take care of yourself, Ari.” He squeezes my shoulder. “Remember, you don’t gotta break things. Maybe start a hobby or something so the boredom doesn’t set in.”

“I heard knitting is popular.”

“The sharp needle thing might not be such a good idea since you flip on a dime.”

Ignoring the jab, I feel the unmistakable burn of tears behind my eyes. “Who’s gonna keep me from running headfirst into disaster?”

Fausto’s hand tightens just a bit. “You’ll be fine.” He pulls me into a quick hug, and I barely have time to hug him back before he heads down the steps and jumps into the waiting car.

Resisting the humiliating urge to beg him to stay, I twist my fingers together and listen to the gravel crunch under the tires as it speeds down the drive.

Fausto’s been the only constant in a world where everyone has an agenda and for a moment, the silence presses in around me.

I take a deep breath, pushing the loneliness down and swallowing it whole.

But the weight doesn’t go away.

If anything, it settles deeper, a small stone lodged under my ribs.

My safety net is gone. And it will be up to me not to ge t— heels click behind me, stopping the thought.

Of course, she would show up now.

I straighten and slowly walk inside the house. Donatella Bianchi is dressed in a sleek black dress that matches the severity of her expression. Silver hair pulled back tight, not a strand out of place. Her eyes zero in on me, and I know she saw the tear I let slip.

“Already falling apart?” Her voice is icy, a blade slicing through the air.

I wipe my face with the back of my hand. “Just got something in my eye.”

“Tears won’t save you from what’s coming, Ari. You need a spine, not sentiment.” She plucks leaves from the flower arrangement, dominating the table in the middle of the foyer. Every movement is sharp and controlled.

“I know, Ma.”

There’s a crack forming deep inside, and I wonder when it will break open. My usual sharp retorts have disappeared, and all that’s left is a well of unfamiliar sadness.

“The party to celebrate André is tonight, and you will not embarrass the family, Arianna.”

I study the woman who’s always been more knife than mother. “Given that I had a lobotomy last Tuesday, I think it’s safe to say I’ll be the most well-behaved woman at the party.”

“You are not amusing.”

“Add it to the list of my failures,” I retort sharply. “It has to be at least two pages by now.”

“Why must you be so difficult?” she sighs, disdain thick in her voice.

“I learned from the best.”

Her mouth pinches tightly as a housekeeper appears, taking the leaves my mother holds out. Does she know the years of cold disapproval have made me exactly who I am?

Fighting the desire to snap back and give her the satisfaction of knowing how much she gets to me, I dig my nails into my palm.

“The man who has agreed to marry you will be there. Don’t do anything to change his mind.”

“Act like a puppet?” I snort. “Smile, nod, and keep my mouth shut?”

“Exactly,” she snaps, her composure unwavering. “None of us asked for this, Ari. We do what we must for the family.” Her tone is icy. “You will behave, or there will be consequences.”

“Consequences?” I arch an eyebrow. “Like what, another arranged marriage? Or maybe you’ll send me off to a convent this time?”

“Don’t test me,” she warns, her gaze hardening. “You may think you’re invincible, but you’re not. The Cosa Nostra has rules, and you will follow them.”

It’s the same speech I’ve heard a thousand times, but today, it feels heavier, like it might finally crush me. “Understood.”

She glares as though hoping to discover a crack in my armor. But I’ll never give her the satisfaction.

I keep it locked tight. She’s taught me well.

“Good.” She heads for the door, her heels clicking like a metronome, keeping time. “Don’t forget it.”

“No chance of that,” I mutter quietly as she disappears from sight.

I know there’s more to life than being a pawn in the family’s game...and if I’m lucky, I’ll discover it before it’s too late.

***

Many hours later, my uncle’s estate looms before, with pillars and chandeliers casting their usual golden glow.

Wealth. Power. It’s everywhere, but tonight, it feels particularly cloying.

A loyal Cosa Nostra soldier opens my door, and I notice the air is thick with cigar smoke and false promises, just like all Famiglia parties.

Straightening my shoulders, I slip on the mask that’s second nature and hear my heels click against the cobblestones as I walk into the foyer.

The party is a maze of glittering lights and perfectly orchestrated chaos. The grand ballroom is filled with the usual suspects. Men in suits cluster in tight groups, and I mentally try to pick which capo will be sentenced to spend eternity with me.

They’re all here. Anyone who is anyone in the Five Families is suited and booted, ready to pay respects to the king. My cousin, André, is celebrating two years as the Don of the Famiglia, and those who want to hold on to their power are ready to kiss the king’s ring.

“Ah, there she is! Our bella Ari!” My brother’s caporegime approaches. “Right on time.”

I accept his kiss on both cheeks. Vincenzo Russo is like a brother to me. Protective, irritating, and constantly willing to tell me what to do. “You’re looking particularly authoritative this evening.” I let a smile play upon my lips. “Who is in your sights?”

“You,” he says flatly. “Emilio will act as your bodyguard until the marriage thing is signed and sealed.”

“Ugh. He’s such a smarmy bastard.” I picture the kid I grew up with and know that he’s grown into a manipulative asshole that’s always looking for a way to cheat the system. “I would be better off with a Bratva bratok .”

“Hush.” He looks around. “Why you gotta always poke the fucking bear, Ari?”

“Because it would be weird if I didn’t.”

“Just make it work.” His gaze briefly hardens, a subtle reminder of the lines I shouldn’t cross.

“Of course,” I say with a fake smile before moving away. I glide through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries with practiced ease. A nod here, a smile there.

It’s a game we all play—pretend to be interested, pretend to care. I pause near the edge of the room, letting my eyes scan the crowd. Familiar faces are everywhere.

I know how to navigate this world blindfolded, but tonight, it feels exhausting. Catching snippets of conversations around me—I hear my name whispered like a secret. Some voices drip with envy, others barely conceal their disdain. All of them though, carry the same thread of judgment.

I spot my brother Enzo and his wife Abby near the edge of the room, deep in conversation. My brother looks sharp, as always—tailored suit, the kind of commanding presence that draws people to him whether he wants it or not. Abby’s the opposite. Quiet strength, the type that doesn’t need to be flashy to be noticed.

I move toward them, slipping into their orbit. Enzo gives me a side hug before Abby takes my hand. “Tired of the charade already?” he asks, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

I let out a short laugh. “Is it that obvious?” I glance across the room, catching sight of our mother. She’s watching me like a hawk with the same stern, unyielding expression she always wears. “Ma looks like she’s waiting for me to do something outrageous.”

Enzo follows my gaze, his expression softening slightly. “She’s tough because she must be. You know how Papa was with Franco and me—ruthless, making sure we were ready for life in the Famiglia . Ma’s just doing the same with you.”

His words hit me harder than I want to admit so I force a smile. “Perhaps,” I mumble, wondering if physical blows would have been easier to accept than the knife she’s constantly plunging into my heart.

Abby squeezes my hand in silent support, and I turn to her. “How are you doing, Sharky? Any interesting high-stakes games lately?”

“I’m an employee of the firm now.” She wrinkles her small nose. “André put his foot down and said a Bianchi can’t keep winning all the big pots at Encore.”

Enzo kisses his wife’s head. “From legendary card shark to hired gun. It ain’t easy.”

“Lucky for me, I get you as a consolation prize,” she replies with a smile.

I watch them exchange looks that would send a diabetic into shock and step away. “See you two later, I’m going to make the rounds.”

They barely notice me leave, and I sigh, knowing I’ll never have anything close.

Moving past a large mirror hanging on the wall, I catch my reflection and stop. The woman looking back is exactly who she’s supposed to be. The perfect Mafia princess. Poised, composed, untouchable.

Who would I be if I weren’t trapped in this role? If I could escape from my mother’s watchful eye, the family’s expectations and the rules that bind us all?

For a moment, I imagine it. A life without strings, where I could be reckless without consequence, passionate without betrayal.

A life that would not include a marriage to a stranger.

I force down the rising tide of emotions and know my survival will depend on destroying the part of me that still searches for angels where only monsters exist.