Page 3 of Sacred Vow

“That is her problem. Not mine. Have her here at 7 am. The wedding will take place at noon.”

I ended the call before I had to endure any more of his drivel. I ordered Massimo to gather our head capos and make a wedding happen in less than twenty-four hours. There was much to do in very little time. I expected every instruction to be followed without deviation.

“Don’t worry, Romeo,” Vinny had said during our tux fitting. “If she’s a dog, you can always go bark up another tree.”

My brothers had groaned, pelting him with cummerbunds and bow ties until voices in the hall turned us back into the grim, dangerous men we were expected to be.

Our staff, with my mother’s direction, had done an exceptional job of making the cathedral-styled entertainment space resemble a lavish wedding destination paradise. But when she began to work herself up over the timetable and the guest list, Vinny smoothly stepped in and took over the arrangements.

Vinny was my only blood brother not directly involved in the family business. He was a chef and owned his own chain of restaurants. But he didn't carry himself like a made man. Or even a chef. Somehow, he’d inherited some recessive genes and instead of the dark brown almost black hair that the rest of us had, his was a dark amber blond that he kept longer than the rest of us. His curly locks were long enough to brush his shoulders and were often in some kind of man bun thing with the underneath shaved. More of a surfer from Cali than a mafia prince.

When Vinny first showed a passion for cooking, my mother had begged me to allow him to follow it. I’d never regretted that decision. His restaurants had hosted a lot of dinners long after closing hours, and washed a lot of dirty money squeaky clean, but at a time like this, I was grateful for his particular expertise. Where else could I get a wedding this size catered on a moment’s notice? Vinny might not have a head for the family business, but he was his own kind of genius.

Now, as I waited at the altar, I glanced down the row of my best men, from Massimo ever at my side, Fausto the next in line, who ran our shipping empire, Giovanni, who operated our clubs, Antonio, our numbers expert and head of gambling, Gaetano, a brilliant surgeon who ran a hospital and took care of our troops, and the youngest of the brothers, Vinny at the far end. I saw my brothers, mi familia, my band, my blood. But I also knew none of the guests gathered today would see who we were, only what we were: seven hardened men.

The stringed quartet began the wedding march. A collective hush fell over the crowd, and then she stepped into view. It wasn’t her succulent body that her wedding dress hugged in all the right places or her stunningly beautiful face, but the intensity of the glare she speared me with.

“You’ll have to be careful with that one, brother,” Massimo whispered. “She looks like the type of woman who would carve out your heart and make you eat it.”

Fausto and Gio heard the whispered comment and laughed, then coughed to cover it up.

“Who knows, maybe you’ll get a taste first, and what a feast! I mean, look at her! A veritable goddess.” Gio whispered back.

At that moment, I decided two things. One: I would fuck the anger out of her until she was a pliant, biddable wife. Two: I didn’t like anyone else looking at her.

Now I had a new reason to be glad I’d made the plan I did. Until Vittoria learned her place as my wife, she would be a prisoner. Lewd images of her tied to my bed as I sank my cock into her and screwed her senseless captivated me as I watched her walk up the aisle on her father’s arm.

I smirked as our eyes met, allowing her to draw her own conclusions about what our vows truly meant. Heat flashed in her eyes. I couldn't wait for the exchange of vows to be over so I could put this sham behind me and move on to what was real, her warm, soft body beneath my hardened one while I took her for the first time.

When she moved beside me, she was fidgeting. I took her by the hand and held on tightly, and wouldn’t relinquish my grip until she settled.

“Too tight,” she finally whispered for only my ears to hear.

“Behave, and I’ll loosen my grip.”

She rolled her eyes, but relaxed.

“That’s my good girl.” I crooned, more to piss her off than anything else.

“I’ll never be yours,” she spat.

“Oh sweetheart, you keep telling yourself that.”

The priest began the ceremony and as her father promised, she did her duty with none the wiser as to her true feelings. But I knew and couldn’t wait to prove to her that women who acted like brats, got treated as such.

Chapter Two

Vittoria

Earlier that day

“Papa, please.” I begged, “Don’t make me!”

My father stood at the threshold of my bedroom while my maid hustled around the room opening blinds and pulling suitcases from my walk in. Apparently, I was to get married today, to a man I’d never met.

“No need to pack her belongings,” Papa instructed the maid without glancing in my direction. “Her husband will provide for Vittoria now.”

Panic clawed at my throat. “But Papa, who will take care of you? You know you need me. Who else will make sure you take your medication on time?”