Page 15 of Vicious Vines

"Marriage?" His voice is sharp, a blade forged in confusion and something darker, something akin to betrayal.

"Yes. After everything with Victor's men, with the other gangs circling like vultures, they're seeing weakness where there should be none. This alliance...it's with Maria. It will add more men to the O'Neils, strengthen us."

I watch as his jaw clenches, the muscle ticking in silent protest. There's so much I want to say, so much I wish could be different. But in this world we've built on power and survival, sometimes the heart must yield to the head. And right now, my head is telling me this is the only way.

Liam's grip on my arms tightens, the heat of his palms searing through the thin fabric of my robe. His eyes blaze with a fierce intensity that sends shivers down my spine—not from fear, but from the raw, untamed emotion they carry.

"Stop the marriage, Sloane." His voice is a command, roughened by passion and edged with desperation. "You can't do this. You can't bind yourself to someone else when it's me you come to in the dead of night."

I try to steady my breathing, to maintain some semblance of control in the face of his fervor. But it's hard—so damnably hard—when his scent fills my lungs, and the memory of our bodies entwined lingers on my skin.

"Maria's alliance will bring strength to the O'Neils," I say, but my words tremble, betraying my resolve.

"Damn the alliance," he growls, pulling me closer until there’s no space for doubt between us. "It's me you should be with, Sloane. Let's take what we have out of the shadows. Let's show the world that we are united, not just in secret, but in every way that counts. The Calders would be more than happy to join the O’Neils to take out the trash like Victor.”

“But your brother killed my father. And as little as I grieve over that fact, there is still the issue of optics.”

Liam leans in, and his lips graze mine, a whisper of a touch that promises more—more heat, more fire, more of the consuming blaze that we ignite in each other. I close my eyes, feeling the pull of him, the seductive draw of a love that dares to speak its name openly.

"Think about it," Liam breathes against my mouth, and the caress of his words is as persuasive as the touch of his hands. "With me, you don't need an army. I will protect you with my life, with every ounce of blood in my veins."

The air between us crackles with the charge of his vow, and for a moment, I allow myself to believe in the possibility of a world where love is the strongest alliance of all. But then the reality of our precarious existence rushes back in, and I'm torn once again between the demands of my heart and the dictates of survival.

"Your protection...it means everything to me, Liam," I confess, my voice aching with unspoken longing. "But how can I risk the safety of the family on maybes and what-ifs?"

He cups my face, his thumbs tracing the lines of my cheeks with a tenderness that belies the steel in his nature. "Because this," he says, his gaze piercing deep into mine, "this is real. We are real. And I swear, Sloane, if you choose us, I'll make sure you never regret it."

In his eyes, I see the reflection of everything we could be—a force to be reckoned with, a pair forged in the fires of adversity and desire. It's tempting beyond measure, and for a heart-stopping second, I teeter on the edge of decision.

"Give me time to think," I whisper, the plea wrapped in the hope that perhaps, just perhaps, love could be the most powerful weapon we wield.

Chapter 10

The city's pulse beats against my skin, a constant reminder of the life I've pledged to—a world drenched in shadow and sin. Yet, as I stand alone in the refuge of my bedroom, it's not the omnipresent hum of the underworld that has my heart thrashing in my chest. It's Liam.

With each shaky breath, his name pulses through my veins, an incantation that beckons and batters in equal measure. The longing for him claws at me, fierce as the hunger of the streets we both call home. His touch, a memory etched into my flesh, burns hotter than the whispers of betrayal that linger in the air.

My mind careens down forbidden paths, each one trailing the scent of his cologne, the ghost of his fingers tracing secrets across my skin. Liam—the embodiment of everything I cannot afford to desire, yet the only craving I can't seem to quell. My chest aches with the weight of a love too dangerous to indulge, too potent to ignore. But to succumb is to bare my soul, to offer up the vulnerability that could be my undoing.

A shudder ripples through me, and I turn away from the mirror—away from the reflection of a woman torn between her heart and her duty. The alliance with Maria looms over me, a specter of necessity. I know what must be done; the consolidation of power is not just expected, it is survival.

I pace the room, the click of my heels a metronome to my racing thoughts. The advantages of aligning with the Italians are clear: stability, strength, a united front against those who would see us fall. But as I play out the scenarios, Liam's face disrupts my focus, a vision that softens the edges of my hardened resolve.

Will he understand the price of power, the sacrifices made in the name of power? The choices before me are jagged, each one poised to cut into the fragile fabric of what Liam and I share—or could share—if only the world were different.

"Damn it, Sloane," I mutter to myself, my voice a low growl that scratches at the opulent silence of the room. "Focus."

But it's his laughter I hear in the quiet moments, his warmth that combats the chill of solitude. And as I weigh the consequences of each decision, I know that the true cost is not in territory or influence—it's the risk of losing the raw connection that somehow, against all odds, Liam and I have forged amidst the chaos.

With a deep, steadying breath, I try to marshal my thoughts, to lock away the part of me that yearns for something as intangible as love in a world where power is the only currency that matters. The path is set, the pieces in motion; there's no room for hesitation.

"An alliance... it's the only way," I whisper, convincing myself more than anyone else.

And yet, even as I prepare to step into the role fate has carved out for me, the echo of Liam's voice promises a torment as exquisite as it is inevitable. For in the darkened corners of my heart, I know that every move I make toward power draws me further from the light of his soul—and that is the true battleground where my spirit wars, where the future of an empire, and the destiny of my heart, hang in the balance.

I make my way down the curving staircase to the front room, where I know Aldo is waiting, Maria's choice for this union. I step inside the room, my skin tingling with a mix of anticipation and trepidation. Aldo stands by the window, his silhouette imposing against the morning sunlight streaming through the panes. His wavy dark hair shines against his olive skin, and I can feel my heart trying to battle its way out of its cage, already comparing Aldo's tall but lean frame to Liam's more solid girth.

Aldo hears me enter and turns. "Sloane," he greets, his voice smooth, wrapped in an accent that speaks of old-world charm and hidden daggers.

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