Page 12 of Corrupt Vows

I end the conversation and shake hands with Matteo before leaving the house. The bright noonday sun heats my head and shoulders in the short distance between the front door and my car.

I drive away before I give in to temptation and storm back into the Vivaldi mansion to ravage the temptingprincipessahiding up in her tower.

My cellphone rings. I turn on Bluetooth and answer my sister’s call.

“You remember you’re my driver today, right?”

My heart softens at her bossy tone. Despite being a legal adult at the young age of twenty, the twelve years between us make her seem forever a child to me. A spoiled, well-loved, headstrong kid who never misses the opportunity to razz me.

“I remember,” I respond.

“Well, you aren’t here,” she snarls.

I check the clock on the dash.

“I still have twenty minutes.”

She gives a long-suffering sigh.

“You’ll be here in exactly twenty minutes, won’t you?”

“You know it.”

I hang up and smile as my mind fills the silence by imagining her tirade. I don’t need to hear her to predict her response. Right now, she’s probably mumbling a slew of curse words at her darkened phone screen.

I pull into the underground parking lot with five minutes to spare, but she’s already waiting at the bottom of the elevators. Despite the security at the gate, she remains inside the glass room with three bodyguards standing strategically around her.

She waves and pushes open the door, so I roll down the window and stop.

“Go back in. I’ll come around with the SUV,” I say.

I know what she’s about to say before she even opens her mouth, and I’d be wasting my energy trying to convince her.

“No, I want to go in this. It may not be a sports car, but it’s a hell of a lot lower than the tanks papà insists I ride in.”

I sigh and unlock the doors. It kills me to watch her limp around the front of the car, but she’d elbow me to death if I got out and ‘made a fuss’ over her.

The overhead light turns on as she opens the door. I grit my teeth and hold my breath as she steps closer to the seat.

When she grabs theoh shithandle, I growl, but she ignores me and leans her weight onto her prosthetic, lifts her foot into the car, and plops down into the seat.

“Natalie! That’s not—”

“Safe. Yeah, yeah, I know, that’s what the doctor said, but this way is so much easier, and itworks, so don’t scold me like a child.”

I watch with gritted teeth as she situates herself more comfortably into the seat and shuts the door.

“Plus, it’s just my foot. It’s not like my entire leg is gone.”

I place both hands on the wheel and inhale. She rolls her eyes, but latches her seatbelt when I tap my fingers impatiently.

“I won’t promise to stop,” she says, earning herself a glare. “I already do so many asinine things just to ‘be safe’,”—yep, she even includes air quotes, the brat—“but you and papà constantly smother me with yourconcern. I need to rebel somehow. Wouldn’t you rather it be how I get in the car and not how I spend my nights?”

Goddammit, she has a point. She’s the only person in the world who can defuse my anger, fill me with concern, and frustrate me to hell and back with just a few words.

Although, after theagreement changewith the Vivaldi’s today, she might not be the only one with the power to frustrate me anymore. Serenity’s unexpected reactions woke the beast within me. She stirred me up and walked away as though she had every right.

I’ll ensure she sees the error of her ways as soon as possible.

---