Page 11 of Corrupt Vows

“Whether she does or not doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Bianca, the female head of the Vivaldi family, places her palm over her sternum and leans forward.

“She’s never acted out like this before. I’ll have a talk with her. She’ll see this is best, and I’ll make sure she won’t embarrass you during the wedding preparations,” she says.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of her from now on. If I can handle my sisters, I can handle her without breaking a sweat.”Although I would very much like to, especially in the bedroom. Or on the kitchen counter. Or in the backseat of my car. Or with her face mashed against the glass window of my condo. Or in the shower. Or—I stop my filthy thoughts before I disgrace myself and take a sip of my whiskey to clear my mind.

“I need to know what we’re dealing with,” I say.

Bianca glances at Matteo, but he gives nothing away. Giorgio scowls and lifts his hand, but drops it before running it through his hair. It’s too late. He’s given them all away with his nervous gesture already.

“Who attacked Camilla?”

Their silence reveals too much.

“You don’t know?” I ask.

I congratulate myself for sounding so respectful when my insides are on fire.

“I’ve eliminated three possibilities,” Giorgio says, but the frustration in his tone says they don’t have another viable option.

I nod, honoring his efforts, even as my frustration grows.

“What happened?”

I need as many details as they’ll give me. Guilt gnaws at my insides. I kept Camilla at a distance, and now she’s in the hospital, hurt so badly her parents called off our engagement. I won’t let the same happen with Serenity.

Fear squeezes my chest. Serenity will be the first person solely in my care. As my wife, she’ll have only me to protect her. Becoming my bride—the bride of the Russo family heir—will paint a big red target on her back.

The Vivaldi family has already proven I can’t trust them with their own daughter’s safety.

A small part of me curls in on itself in terror, but I ignore the pathetic reaction and stop my memories before they rise. I buried them with my mother almost nineteen years ago.

I listen to Matteo’s matter-of-fact retelling of his daughter’s attack and see his anger for what it is: he’s furious someone dared challenge his power. He’s more insulted than worried about his daughter’s health.

My mouth sours, but I relax my features and listen without reaction.

“How much does Serenity know?”

I’m guessing less than I do now, given her reaction.

Bianca shrugs and says, “We told her the truth: Camilla was in a car accident.”

I grunt and finish my whiskey.

“How many guards do you have on her?” I aim the question at Matteo.

“Two. A guard and a driver. More, if she’s going out of our territory,” he responds.

I set down my glass and twist it between my fingertips until the design faces outward.

“I’ll add my own measures of security.”

It isn’t a request, but he agrees as though it is. I hold in my growl and lean my elbows on my knees.

“Give me access to all her devices.”

Giorgio stiffens, but Bianca smiles and says, “Of course.”

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