Page 16 of Vows in Violence

I stride into the foyer, the air thick with tension, pushing back my sleeves and exposing the intricate tattoos snaking up my forearms. I flex my fingers until my knuckles crack, a sound that reverberates through the silence like a warning shot. My jaw tightens as I move with purpose into the sitting room. Angel sits in his gilded cage, a silent witness to the chaos. My men are gathered, their expressions a mixture of concern and curiosity, and my wife stands in the center of the room.

She is dressed in clothing made for the outdoors, not the delicate nightgown I left her in. Her head is bowed, eyes fixed on the floor like a child awaiting punishment. This sight ignites a cold fury within me.

My father raised me to be a monster. Monsters don’t take pity on children.

"This is a private matter. Between husband and wife." My voice slices through the oppressive tension, sharp and unforgiving. I nod at Nikolai, one of my most trusted men. He meets my gaze with a slight incline of his head and gestures for the others to leave. They file out in silence, the heavy door closing behind them with a finality that echoes in the room.

"The truth," I demand, my voice reverberating in the oppressive silence. Each word drops like a hammer, demanding, unyielding.

Vivi looks up, her eyes wide. "I’m sorry, husband."

"None of that. I can’t stomach groveling. I want the truth." I grit my teeth.

She hesitates, then takes a deep breath. "Enzo, Luca, Cassidy, and Rowan arranged for me to leave tonight." The list of suspects does not surprise me, but it doesn’t stop the hammering of anger from pounding through my body.

I take a step closer to my wife and sneer. "Until you were captured," I state flatly, watching her every move.

"Purposely captured. I changed my mind." She holds my gaze, the truth shining in her eyes.

"Why?" I ask, my patience wearing thin. What kind of trick is this; why would she choose to stay?

"I realized my place is no longer in the Valachi house. I am a Romanov."

"Nice of you to recall that when you did. How was this arranged?" My voice is low, dangerous, yet I can’t shake away a grudging respect that she had chosen to stay.

"It was between Rowan and me," she answers, and I see the lie as clearly as the subtle movement of Angel in his cage. Does he not like watching his sister being questioned?

"No one helped you?" I step closer, my voice rising. Vivi keeps her gaze trained on the floor. "LOOK AT ME!"

She lifts her chin, and all of that child-like innocence is gone. A fire blazes in her eyes that takes me off-guard. Her stance is still gentle, like a ballerina poised for a jump, but that fire catching the light within her is defiant. Dangerous. It’s the look I’ve seen in Angel each time I’ve tortured him.

"I did this on my own," she declares, her voice steady.

Another lie.

I don’t say anything. Instead, I walk over to the door and thump my fist on the wood. The door opens immediately, and someone is pushed into the room. Brodie. I see a glint of tears form in his eyes when they settle on Vivi, but despite this, he keeps his chin up. He is forced onto his knees.

"Do you know who this is?" I ask, turning back to Vivi.

"My servant," she replies, her voice calm but her eyes wary.

"He has been working here for a long time. I trusted him with you because I trusted his loyalty to the Romanov family. I’ve never had a reason to doubt him," I say, my eyes narrowing as I look at Brodie.

"He has fulfilled your wishes. He kept me locked in that room," Vivi says, her voice filled with a mix of anger and sadness.

"Until tonight," I add, my voice cold. The room falls into an uneasy silence, tension thick in the air.

She isn’t looking at Brodie. She keeps her eyes on me, the corners of them softening, almost begging.

"Nikolai ran into Brodie when he was taking a dining cart back to the kitchen. Did you order that cart tonight, Vivi?" I ask, my voice cold and calculating.

"Yes. You woke me when you left, and I was hungry," she answers, her voice steady but her eyes pleading.

“And what did you have to eat?”

She hesitates for the briefest of seconds, but it is enough. “A hamburger.”

I shake my head, a mirthless smile curling my lips. "You are a horrible liar, my pet."

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