Page 5 of Ruthless Vows

Anastasia Hawthorne.

“Her family are British billionaires,” Miss May starts, but I cut her off.

“Royal blood,” I say, staring at the familiar face on the screen. “Her father is William Hawthorne, second cousin to the King of England.”

“Correct,” Miss May affirms, eyebrows raised, clearly impressed by my knowledge. “She’s a rare gem and one of my newest girls. Now, I will be blunt with you. She didn’t give me that information. I did a background check on her and discovered this information, so, I feel obligated to notify you about that.”

Hmm . . . is Anastasia running from something?

I nod, appreciating her honesty. “Isn’t her father the Duke of Kent?” I ask, trying to recall the finer details.

“That sounds right,” Miss May replies, but her voice fades into the background.

My mind is already racing ahead.

Anastasia Hawthorne could be the key to placating the elders within the mafia, and securing my family’s future.

Her lineage alone would elevate our status to untouchable levels.

Levels no other mafia family could reach.

“Tell me more about her,” I command, my eyes locked on the screen.

“Of course,” Miss May says, her fingers deftly navigating the tablet.

As the information unfolds before me, one thing becomes clear—Anastasia Hawthorne is perfect.

My fingers drum against the table as I stare at Anastasia Hawthorne’s photo.

Still, I can’t help but wonder why someone like her would be on a service like this?

A woman with royal blood and billions in her family’s coffers shouldn’t need to resort to being a 'wife for hire.'

The thought nags at me, making it hard to focus on Miss May’s voice.

“She’s been living in New York for over a year,” Miss May says, oblivious to my internal turmoil. “It seems she prefers a more independent lifestyle.”

“Independent?” I mutter under my breath, still perplexed.

There’s got to be more to this story.

“Is there any reason given for why she’s on here?” I ask, trying to mask my curiosity with a veneer of casual interest.

“She was very hush hush about her reasoning,” Miss May replies, scrolling through the details. “She didn’t tell me anything specific, but I believe she’s trying to get some space between her and her family. A fresh start.”

A fresh start.

That could mean anything—or everything.

My mind races through possibilities, each one more intriguing than the last.

Whatever her reasons, I need to know them. More importantly, I need her.

“All right,” I say, leaning back in my chair and meeting Miss May’s eyes. “Set it up. I want her to be my wife.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“Yes,” I say firmly. “She’s everything I’m looking for.”

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