Page 27 of Veiled Vows

She shakes her head with a sigh. "My coworkers will hate me."

Leaning in close, I tell her, "Salvatore Agosti's wife is spoiled. If she needs rest, she gets rest. Your name being associated with the firm has already raised its value, even without your presence."

She ignores me, putting her toothbrush down. As I rinse the shampoo from her hair and start to condition it, she speaks softly, her voice filled with uncertainty. "I don't know how to forgive you, Salvatore. I don't even know if I want to."

I take the brush and start untangling her hair, working through the knots gently. "I've got something planned for that," I tell her.

She rolls her eyes, her skepticism clear. "Is it an island in my name this time? Or a thousand roses?"

"If you want that, I can give it to you, baby. But no, it isn't. I know what you need."

I help her out of the bath and wrap her in a towel. “I love you, Serena. I really do."

She doesn't respond, but she doesn't pull away either. And for now, that's enough.

It's easier for me to tell her I love her now. The words don't choke me like they used to. I’m not my mother, and Serena isn’t my mother either.

For a long time, I was terrified of becoming what my mother was to me, of turning Serena into a prisoner of my obsessions. But now I know. My mother never loved me; she was sick in the head.

My feelings for Serena aren’t like that—they aren’t sick, they aren’t wrong. They are pure and dark, a fierce, unyielding love that consumes me.

I go to the closet and pick out a dress for her to wear. Something comfortable and loose. I help her into her panties and bra, her skin flushing at that.

"Where are we going?" she asks, her voice tinged with curiosity.

"We have breakfast planned with our parents," I say.

She pales, her eyes widening in panic. "No, no, no," she repeats.

"Trust me," I tell her, reassuring her. "Trust me that I won't let anybody hurt you."

"Why? Why do we need to go?" she cries out.

I pull her close, my hands on her shoulders. "Because it’s what you need. I know you better than I know myself. This is a step we need to take."

She looks at me, tears brimming in her eyes. I can see the fear, the hesitation, but I also see a flicker of trust. She nods reluctantly, her grip tightening on my hands.

I help her into the dress, my fingers brushing against her skin. "You look beautiful," I tell her.

I know that her mother’s words are repeating in her head over and over again. They are all false. She might not see it, but her mother is jealous of her. That’s the only reason why she would tear her down.

I dress quickly and we head to the car. Serena picks at her manicured nails the entire drive, and I place my hand on her thigh to ground her.

We’re meeting at my father’s estate. When we arrive, we head to the table where breakfast is laid out, exchanging strained greetings.

I notice Maria eyeing Serena, her gaze filled with jealousy—a mother jealous of her own daughter. Despicable.

Maria looks like she wants to comment on Serena’s appearance, but a quick glance from me makes her pale and stuff a strawberry into her mouth instead.

I chew a piece of bread slowly, surveying the table. They’re all dying to know why they’re here.

“Serena knows about our agreement,” I announce, my voice slicing through the silence. Serena’s fork clatters onto her plate. Her father, Nicholas, that spineless man, gulps and looks at her, trying to defend himself, but I raise my hand, silencing him.

Maria looks smug, a smirk playing on her lips. I’m ready to wipe that smirk off her face. “There’s nothing you can say to justify it, Nicholas. You wanted more money and power, and I wanted a wife for my image and a future heir down the road. Serena was the best option. That was our arrangement.”

Serena’s chair scrapes against the floor as she flings herself up, turning to leave, but I pull her back into her seat. Her father stutters, “I swear it was good for you too, Serena. Not just for us. I knew you’d never have agreed.”

“Shut up,” I bark, and he falls silent. My father sits there, eyes cynical and calculating.

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