Page 2 of Vow to Me

Marco, who is standing behind me, walks over to the drinks trolley and grabs a bottle of whiskey and three glasses. Clearly, he doesn’t like the sound of this either.

Dad sighs. “Bianchi has a lot of spare men. He’s agreed to send us an extra 40 men to help us while we sort all this out. We’ve also agreed on gun shipments, seeing as though we’ve lost our previous deal with the Cartel, we need to set up new contacts. Bianchi agreed to deal with us directly with a fifteen percent discount, he has what we need while we get through the war with these assholes. We need him, we’ll all end up dead without him.”

“Fifteen percent discount? That’s got to be at least eight hundred grand, no less than seven hundred grand. Why the hell wouldBianchi offer us that big of a discount?” Marco asks from behind me.

“And what the fuck do we have that he wants in return?” I add, knowing the answer can’t possibly be any good.

“Bianchi never remarried after his wife passed. They only had one child, a daughter. Bianchi is only forty-five—he’s got years left in him. He wants to arrange a marriage with his daughter, Isabella, so she can produce an heir for his empire,” he says before sighing and rubbing his temples.

“Of course, the men he sends will be given menial jobs, while those doing them at the moment will be promoted. I won’t have any fucker feeding information back to Antonio,” he adds.

Our family hasn’t partaken in arranged marriages in years, but other organizations still use them. A feeling of dread settles in my stomach but I ignore it.

“Right, so we marry off this girl to one of the lower capos, she pops out some kids for him while we get the men that we need to even the odds with the Bratva and Columbians and get cheaper weapons?” I ask hopefully.

He shoots me an apologetic look, and I instantly know my life is fucked. He doesn’t need to say the words, but—so there’s no fucking confusion—he has to say them out loud and put them into the universe making it fucking real.

“No, Luca, I’m sorry. You’ll marry Isabella Bianchi next month. The date is already set, you’ll marry the girl on February the twenty-fourth.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“You said Bianchi is forty-five. How old exactly is this daughter of his since I’ve never even heard of her in our circles? I’m not a fucking cradle robber Dad,” I grit out, no fucking way is that happening.

“Of course, you’re not, she’s twenty-four,” he states in a tone that sounds like he’s selling me on buying a car, not spending the rest of my life with one woman.

I guess a six-year age gap isn’t a big deal. But then again, I’d rather not get fucking married at all.

Fuck my life.

Once we’re finished in the office and I’m back in the car, I decide I need a fucking drink to drown out my thoughts. I pull my phone out my pocket and pull up Alec’s contact, knowing he’ll be down to meet me for a drink. The line rings a couple of times before he answers.

“Look who’s calling me at this time of night. What can I do for you, sweetheart?” he cheers mockingly into my ear.

“Shut the fuck up,” I groan. “I need you to meet me for a fucking drink,” I say in a somber tone.

“Shit man, you good?”

“No, I’m so fucking far from being good it’d be comical if this shit wasn’t happening to me. Meet me at Arcane in twenty,” I say before hanging up the phone, knowing he’ll be there. He always is when I need him.

Alec Cane has been my best friend since freshman year college. We were paired together in a group project and I fucking hated him at first, I thought he was just another entitled asshole with a stickup his ass, turns out he isn't so bad after all, he won me over with his carefree attitude and happy go lucky personality. But the thing about Alec is, he’s always there to lend a helping hand, whether I need his help when it comes to business, or if it’s personal shit I’m dealing with, the man would drop everything and show up.

I walk into Arcane and head up to the VIP section where I know he’ll be waiting for me. I chose to meet him at the club his brother owns rather than one of my family’s clubs because I don’t think I can fucking deal with seeing anyone from the Cosa Nostra right now. Works already taken up too much of my fucking life today.

I reach the top of the stairs and spot Alec sat at one of the far tables, knowing he chose that spot to give us more privacy and I head over to him.

“What the hell is going on Luc? It’s not often you grace me with your presence on a Saturday night,” he drawls.

I swallow past the lump in my throat, not wanting to voice my fucking issue. I shake my head,just fucking say it you asshole.

“Ah you know, wanted to catch up, see how you are, see how business has been, invite you to my upcoming wedding… the usual,” I say with a fake ass grin.

He bursts out into hysterical laughter, thinking I’m joking. But when I don’t join in, he realizes I’m being deadly fucking serious. Any humor fades from his face and he stares at me with wide eyes and a slack jaw. He’s looking at me as if I’ve grown another head, as if I’m crazy. Maybe I am, I sure do feel like I’m losing my fucking mind.

“What in the ever-lovingfuckare you talking about?”

“I’m talking about getting married, me, in one month. Mark the date in your calendar, I expect to see you there,” I say with a grimace before going into detail, explaining the deal my father made and how I’ll soon have some docile little woman attached to me.

I take a swig of the whiskey that Alec had waiting for me, before swallowing the rest of the liquid, I drain the glass and look him in the eye. “I’m gonna need you to find out everything you can on the Bianchi’s and anyone close to them. I need to know what the fuck I’m getting myself into.”

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