Page 10 of Corrupt Vows

My mother’s horrified expression erases my mirth. I wipe my tears and take a deep breath before straightening my spine and meeting my new tormentor’s cold, unamused eyes.

Deciding a hasty retreat will be best, I offer him the sweetest, most saccharine smile and add an extra heap of sarcasm to my words.

“You’re so considerate. Thank you.”

I rise and head toward the door, but he grabs my wrist as I try to pass in front of him. I stop mid step but keep my eyes on the exit.

“Like you mean it, Serenity.”

For half a second, my name on his lips renders me speechless until his cool tone registers. Icy fury rolls down my spine, and I swivel my gaze to his.

“Excuse me?” I challenge.

“Thank me like you mean it,” he says.

For the first time in my life, I want to punch someone, even if it means my probable death, but the thought of violence cools my ardor. I push his hand off my wrist, expecting him to clamp down; instead, he releases me and lounges back. His pose does nothing to counteract the feral gleam in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I can’t. Maybe next time.”

I make a beeline for the door, expecting him to grab me at any moment, but he lets me escape into the hallway. His eyes heat my back as my father’s voice breaks the uncomfortable silence.

I don’t look back.

I can’t afford to.

My parents will announce my engagement to the most terrifying, infuriating man next week.

I’m not ready. I never will be.

In four months, I’ll wed the man my sister was supposed to marry.

Nico Russo will take me as his wife, even if no one—including him—wants me to be his bride.

My happily ever after is fucked.

Chapter 4

Nico Russo

Amusement and excitement buzzthrough me as the tempting little morsel scampers up the stairs.

I never thought I’d get to fuck Serenity Vivaldi, but now that I can, I’ll snatch her up with both hands.

She’s mine.

All mine.

My fingers itch to touch her again. Her soft, delicate wrist was only the beginning.

I can’t wait to explore every inch of her.

The crushing weight of responsibility always rests on my shoulders, but with Serenity included in the unexpectedchange of termsbetween the Russo and Vivaldi families, unease sweeps through me.

I haven’t tripled my family’s wealth or kept them safe from the human varmints crawling around New York City by ignoring my instincts, but I also can’t afford to falter, so I peel my gaze away from the empty stairwell and meet Matteo Vivaldi’s hard eyes.

“She’ll come around,” he says.

I check my cufflinks and quirk a brow as I respond.

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