Page 28 of Forced Vows

"Can't you say anything else?"

"I'll help you if you want."

My head is nodding before my brain catches up, but then I'm locked in.

He curls his hand around mine and guides the dagger to the pad of his thumb. He exerts pressure and suddenly it's his blood I see. I don't know why, but I squeeze his thumb increasing the size of the droplet. He could do this himself, but for some reason I don't understand, I have to.

Like he did with me, I smear the red viscous fluid around the pad of his thumb.

It feels as intimate as his mouth on mine.

He puts his bloody print beside his name on the contract and I hear the click of a padlock going into place.

It's done and my future is locked into place, inexorably connected to his. We haven't spoken any vows and we're not married, but I'm tied to Miceli De Luca all the same.

Chapter 11: RÓISE

Irritation makes my steps faster than normal heading to the armored SUV that will take us back to Long Island.

Okay, maybe my comment was a little awkward. "I guess you have my number to call with any questions about my birthday party."

I was still feeling a little out of it after that whole sign it in blood thing and maybe even a tiny bit grateful to Miceli for how he handled it.

But the underboss looked at me like I was a mafia groupie hitting on him and said, "The call will come from my sister-in-law."

Right. Why bother calling the woman you've just signed a contract in blood promising to marry?

The whole episode felt like it came right out of a period drama. Right up to Miceli's offhand dismissal of me afterward.

Only my life isn't a television series. There was real bloodshed and there are genuine long term consequences for me. I'm eventually going to have a child with Miceli De Luca. Divorce, or not, he will always have a role in my life as the father of my child.

So, sue me for thinking that means we should maybe get to know each other. Enemies, or not. Because we are getting married next summer.

And I would prefer not to walk down the aisle with a complete stranger waiting at the other end.

We're going to be living together for at least nine years. If we don't have any other children.

Nine years!

Because I am not giving up my child. Not for anything.

If I go off my birth control early, I could maybe shave a year, or so off of that. That's still seven to eight years living the life of an underboss's wife, surrounded by the Italian mafia.

Why did I agree to that clause?

I glare at my uncle, sitting in the back of the SUV with me now, on his phone and oblivious to the cauldron of anger bubbling inside me.

Why didn't he stick up for me, even a little?

Because the old dinosaur thinks I should stay married to Miceli. Till death do us part.

In the mafia world, that isn't the promise of relationship longevity some people think it is.

I respect the sanctity of marriage which is why I wanted to get married in a civil ceremony. I don't want to make vows in a church that have an expiration date.

And no, I don't want Miceli to die to set me free. The image of his inert body, lying in a pool of blood tightens my stomach with nausea.

I wish I could crack my window, but that's a security no-no.

---