Page 42 of Sacred Vow

My phone dinged, a text alert from Vinny. A selfie with my wife. On her other side was a very serious-looking Tony, trying to smile while glaring at Vinny’s arm around my Vittoria. I trusted Vinny completely, but they looked good together. Only a few years apart they looked more like a couple than she and I did, and it pissed me off.

“That little shit.” Simo looked over and tried to hold back a smirk.

“He does like to push the envelope, eh, always rage baiting you, brother.”

Glaring at the image I texted back. “Take your arm off my wife.”

His response was to send another picture. This time, he had my wife tucked into his side and they were both winking. Why, that little brat! I’d get her back for that.

Now a text from Vittoria: “Sorry, he made me.”

“Do you think that little excuse will save you from il devaolo?” I sent it back to her and then waited a full minute before she sent — “I hope not.” With a heart emoji.

“Good girl. Behave yourself and you have my full permission to tell Vincenzo to go fuck himself.”

She sent back a laughy face. Chuckling, I tossed my phone down on the table and found Massimo studying me intently. The smile left my face, the façade sliding back into place.

“I never thought I’d see the day,” Simo remarked.

“What day?” I asked in a dark, serious tone.

“The one where the great Romeo Vitale, Il Diavolo, fell in love.”

Hmph. “You’ve said that before, but I think your eyes deceive you, brother.” This was said with my focus on the few soldiers with us on the plane. I was in serious trouble of tarnishing my reputation if my feelings were that obvious. It was one thing for my brothers to know my weaknesses, but our world was full of enemies. My feelings for Vittoria had turned her into the single greatest vulnerability in my life.

Chapter Fourteen

Vittoria

Last night had been incredible, and I lay like a boneless fish in my bed, reliving all the delicious things my husband had done to me. I was thinking about getting up and showering when my burner phone rang.

Quickly reaching into my nightstand, I pulled it out. “Carlo?” I answered.

“It is. Listen up. Today is the day. I heard through the grapevine that Romeo and Massimo are in the air, and they took a large contingent of their men with them. Antonio has been tasked with staying at the estate and keeping an eye on things. Apparently, your husband doesn’t trust you to not get into trouble. We need to act after he’s arrived and checked in with the security at home. It will be the first thing he does, and then he will let his guard down a bit. That is when you will make your quiet exit.”

Before I could ask a single question, the phone went dead. I guess he would be calling me back with exactly how I would be making a quiet exit.

Moving from the bed, the plushness of the area rug grabbed my attention and my focus on my surroundings became hyper-aware. The birds outside. The way sunlight slanted across the bedroom and spilled over our bed.

How many mornings had I crossed those Italian marble floors? The smells of citrus, and bergamot — Romeo, and the scents of my body care intertwined — mango and vanilla… assaulted more than my nostrils, but also tugged my heart.

In the past few months, against all reasoning, Romeo and I had become a couple. Maybe not like normal couples, but wasn’t that overrated anyway? But more than expected in a mafia forced marriage situation. Where there was often no love, no passion, and oftentimes, a lot of abuse. I could hardly call what he did to me abuse, not when I enjoyed every second of it.

Those thoughts followed me into the shower, washing off his scent and maybe for the last time, ever. An argument raged inside of me: do I, don’t I? What do I really want? Every insecurity I’d ever faced paraded around in my head, making things worse. My inner little princess was shaking her head at me, but what did she know anyway? My tiny toddler brain created her, and my childhood sustained and grew the fantasy of the perfect man right into adulthood.

Whereas the woman I’d become wasn’t as committed to a man as she was to her freedom, her autonomy. I wanted to escape the tower, even though it had proven to be a safe haven, to lead an independent life. That’s what the other voice said, but if that was the correct one to listen to, then why were my guts twisting into knots at the idea of leaving here, leaving him?

Out of the shower, I grabbed my phone and called Gia.

“Hot stuff here, how can I direct your call?” she answered.

I burst out laughing. “And everyone thinks I’m a brat. You’re so much worse!”

“You are a brat, Vittoria, a sneaky one. I’m more of an in-your-face kinda brat.”

I rolled my eyes, even though she couldn’t see me.

“So why did you call?”