Page 6 of Risky Vows

"Jesus," I hiss. I understand it's good to take photos with my new wife for appearances, but someone must not have told the photographer that ours isn't a love marriage. Some of the poses he's asked us for are absolutely cringe-worthy.

Dad squeezes my shoulder. "Go out there and smile. This is a great opportunity." Dad may not be as present at work as he used to be, but that doesn't mean he'll ever stop bossing us around at every opportunity. A part of me wishes he'd just retire to a faraway island with a young blonde and leave us the fuck alone.

"That's what I just said," Nico says, winking.

"How nice of you to remind me I'm the sacrificial lamb. I don't see any of you getting married for the family's sake," I say. I'm forty-one, Dante forty, Rocco thirty-nine, and Nico thirty-eight. It's not like they're in their twenties, but none of them seem interested in getting married. I can't blame them. Life's too comfortable without attachments. Why mess things up?

"You're doing great things," Dad says. "I'm proud of you."

"Me too," Dante says sarcastically. "Giving up a whole life of man-whoring for the one woman with the right bloodline."

His words weigh on me. After our conversation in the limo, I understood Amara has more to offer than just her birthright. At the same time, it'll be a lot easier for me to proceed with caution. There's a lot at stake here.

"Don't discourage him." Nico waves him off. "Besides, knowing Massimo, I doubt he'll give up man-whoring."

Nico and Dante laugh, and I shake my head. Fidelity isn't expected in this marriage. At least, not from me. I don't want any man touching or coming near her. But I don't know if cheating on her is something I'll need to do. Tonight will give me an idea of whether we're compatible.

"Be discreet," my dad says with a pointed look. "We need Amara to be happy with this union."

I finish my scotch. "Don't worry. I'll deliver."

"Always does," Dante chuckles.

I frown. I suppose I've done enough to warrant this kind of reputation.

Dante, Rocco, and Nico are far from being saints, and I'm sure they're happy I took the fall. Our parent's marriage wasn't awful. It was far from perfect, with my mom looking away when Dad strayed. Even then, he loved her.

He loved her in his own way. And was heartbroken when she died—because of me. Then, he married another woman whohelped raise us until we were all out of our teens. But he cheated on her, too, and they divorced.

My parents' marriage isn't a hallmark of the love we see in movies. Then again, I never thought much about it. Getting hitched never crossed my mind before. Two months ago, my father told me about this duty I needed to fulfill for the family's sake.

And here I am, reluctantly. Though, the idea of consummating the union later gives me some solace. Tonight, Amara will be my wife completely. And there'll be no stopping me.

5

Amara

I slip out of the shower, grab a fluffy towel, and wrap myself in it. A cloud of steam swirls around me, and I wish teleportation technology would take me far away from what expects me in the bedroom.

I'm still recovering from having to smile for hours at the reception party and shaking hands with people who have done horrible things to others. But that's what I was signed up to do.

When we arrived at Massimo's swanky home in Lincoln Park, I used the excuse I needed a shower, but that was over forty minutes ago. Massimo could have left, but somehow, I know he's in the main suite, waiting for me. It's a weird sensation, knowing I married someone who may as well be a stranger. My husband.

It's easier that way.

I’ll be less disappointed the less I know. I don't expect him to be a good husband or a decent person. How can that go wrong?

The last hours went by quickly. There were lots of smiles, pictures, and toasts. The reception was wonderful, as was the food and the ginormous cake.

The dreamy wedding celebration for the perfect nightmare marriage.

I swallow.

I slip on a pair of pajamas.

I refused to wear anything sexy, so I chose a sensible pink flannel with long sleeves, pants, and a hedgehog print.

When I open the door and join him in the suite interior, he's removing his cufflinks and setting them on the nightstand. I take a moment, a long one since he hasn't realized I've joined him, to fully appreciate this insanely hot mountain of a man.

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