Page 132 of Forced Vows

"If you did, I would have to kill you," he replies in a conversational tone that I do not mistake for one that lacks conviction.

Sev will kill any man who touches his wife, including me.

Still, my lips twist wryly. "You know what I mean, brother. I will never obsess over a woman like you do Catalina."

Not even a certain Irish mob princess whose pussy tastes like the honey of the gods.

"Never is a dangerous word you could end up eating." Severu gives me a big-brother look.

A don would not concern himself with such trivial things. But my brother? Yes.

I shake my head though.

I'm not worried. I'm marrying for the sake of the mafia, not for my own sake. That's no recipe for love.

Even if I thought I was capable of feeling that emotion. Lust is another matter.

Salvatore raises his hand palm out toward his dad. "Do not tell me you would do any differently if he tried to maul mamma."

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," I say with mocking pity.

Uncle Sal is not amused. "Are you saying this nobody, this outsider you have known less than two weeks, is your woman? Monica worked for you for six months before you were serious enough about her to ask Enzo's permission to tell her the truth about your role in la famiglia."

We all wait in silence for my cousin's response. Pretty sure my uncle is expecting a different one than me though. I don't know what Sev thinks.

"She is mine." Salvatore's words don't surprise me.

But I'm the only one.

Sev gives our cousin a narrow eyed stare. "Are you saying you are not open to being the husband in the alliance deal with Shaughnessy?"

What the fuck?

No one is marrying Róise Shaughnessy but me. It's my bloody fingerprint next to hers on that contract.

"I'm the sacrificial lamb in that scenario," I remind my brother in a hard voice. "The deal is done."

The look Sev gives me is not friendly. "You two fight like cats and dogs. Maybe Salvatore won't piss her off so easily."

What the fuck is he talking about? Róise was disappointed when I told her about moving the wedding forward, but she wasn't pissed off. Her fury was reserved for her dean.

Who will not make the mistake of believing he can disrespect her again.

"She is my fiancée." My hands curl into fists and I have to slam a lid on the desire to drive both into my brother's smug face.

"I am not marrying her," Salvatore inserts with utter conviction.

The blunt words, if not the sentiment, surprise me. My brother could see that kind of adamant refusal as disloyalty.

Not that he does. The surprise on the stronzo del cazzo's face morphs to satisfaction almost instantly. He nods at my cousin in silent permission to pursue Bianca.

The look he gives me doesn't have any of that approval. "Figure your shit out with Róise then. This marriage is supposed to cement an alliance, not start a war."

Salvatore leaves. No doubt to go find his new obsession.

"Severu—" Uncle Sal starts to say.

My brother puts his hand up. "No, Uncle Sal. I don't want to hear it. If you can't see the way Salvatore looks at Bianca, I can. She's good for him."

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