Page 7 of Reckless Vow

“How long do we have to stay married?” I ask.

“For a year, and Rupert decides if the marriage is legit. I guess divorcing within a year might be considered a scam? I don’t know. We need to talk to him after Dominic decides what the next move is.” London shrugs and turns to the kitchen’s arched entrance.

“It’s the day of ghosts,” she exclaims. “Hey, little bro.”

I set my glass down so I don’t drop it and draw attention to myself. I need to disappear to deal with my heart pulsing in my temple.

The kitchen gets incredibly hot suddenly, and somehow dimmer and brighter at the same time.

The universe certainly decided to fuck with me today. Big time.

It’s like thinking about that kiss conjuredhimin real life. Seeing the man—because he is no longer the boy I’ve tried to forget—many other memories rush to consume me.

To eat away at all my defenses. To destroy my barely maintained composure.

Because on a shitty day like today I can’t catch a break, and the boy I used to love has shown up out of nowhere.

I shake my head, but no… Of all the fucked-up images my mind devises, this particular vision is a cruel reality.

Baldo fucking Cassinetti is truly standing in our childhood home’s kitchen.

My first love.

The boy who broke my heart.

My stepbrother.

Chapter3

Brook

His eyes land on me after my sisters fawn over him and gush about his sudden appearance. What the fuck is that about?

As far as I know, he hasn’t come home since the night he abandoned me. But all thoughts of the past blur under his present gaze.

I was a girl when his smile spread goosebumps on my skin.

Nine years later, I have the same reaction. And for a brief—the briefest—moment, I allow myself to admire the fine specimen he has become.

Somehow the last nearly ten years have filled him out in all the right places. His tailored suit hugs his muscles beautifully.

The scruff on his face lines the perfect square of his jaw, and he has a man bun. I’m not a fan, but damn does it add a sexy roughness to his polished appearance.

And those eyes. I couldn’t resist the dark irises then, and being under their scrutiny now is doing things to me I don’t want to feel.

He’s your stepbrother, the devil on my shoulder reminds me. I never subscribed to that obstacle in the past because we’re not related by blood, but I go with it this time. I need the boundary.

Because, again, why the fuck is he here?

The worst thing is… a part of me wants to run into his arms.

He lost that right the night he left me behind.

I have imagined this moment so many times in my head. I rehearsed it, planned what I’d say, scripted the words.

They all still float somewhere in my conscience, but they don’t form fully. In all my fantasies, vengeance and the need for closure drove my actions.

Never did I consider the influx of emotions surging through me currently. It’s like my entire system goes into survival mode.

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