Page 18 of Corrupt Vows

I focus on navigating the dangerous streets.

“Why’re you so grumpy? You’re the one who offered to take me for a new dress.”

The exasperation in her tone earns her an unamused side glance.

“What? I could have gone shopping all on my own any time since papà told me you were marrying Camilla,” I internally wince at her use of the older Vivaldi sister’s name. I haven’t told her about the change yet, but she’ll find out soon enough. “Butyoutold me to wait, and now here we are, the day before your engagement party.” She gives me a skeptical once over before asking, “Shouldn’t you be doing this with your soon-to-be fiancée instead of your sister?”

I swallow and turn the wheel.

“Wait, this isn’t the way to the shops. Where are we going?”

When I don’t respond, she slumps back in her seat and stares out the window, but perks up when I turn onto Serenity’s campus.

She may have only been thirteen months old when mamma died, but the way she says my name takes me back to the few times my mother scolded me as a child.

“You’re kidding, right? What is this?”

I continue around the campus to the art studio and pull up to the walkway to the side door.

“Why are we here, Nico? Isn’t this—?” she stops as Serenity shoves through the door.

In a white tank top, unbuttoned plaid overshirt, and baggy jeans, with her long hair flowing behind her, my long-term sexual fantasy and soon-to-be betrothed strides toward us. My cock hardens at her sensual curves and graceful movements, but my lust slows to a simmer as I take in her posture. With her shoulders slumped and head down, she’s not paying attention to her surroundings.

Anger sweeps through me. Even if we haven’t announced our engagement, she’s a Vivaldi. She knows better than to be complacent about her safety.

I open my door and step out in front of her. The top of her head hits my sternum. She squeaks and pinwheels as she bounces off me. I grab her shoulders and stop her from falling.

Halfway through her apology, her words dry up when she lifts her head and meets my eyes.

My anger drains away. Between the circles under her eyes, the pallor of her skin, and the misery lurking in her gaze, she doesn’t look well. Concern barrels through me, and I tighten my grip on her shoulders.

Does she hate the idea of marrying me that much?

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

I loosen my grip but can’t force my hands off her.

“Get in the car,” I demand.

She stiffens and tries to step back. I pull her closer.

“Why?”

“We’re going out,” I snarl.

“No, we’re not. I have plans tonight,” she says, but I already know she’s lying.

With access to all her devices, I’m aware of how empty her calendar is for the next few weeks.

I quirk a brow and scan the area. Sebastian stands in the grass a few paces away. Simon and Coral—my best bodyguard couple—sit on a bench near the building, pretending to be college students. Marcello leans against the hood of his car in the parking lot. With his SUV parked nose to nose with hers, my fourth best soldier is as close to her door as he can be without looking suspicious. Her driver looks between his rearview and side mirrors, scoping the area from his seat.

Mia piccola principessais the only one not aware of how much danger she’s in.

“What, are you going to toss me in the trunk if I don’t agree to come with you? You can’t, not here,” Serenity says.

“The trunk isalwaysan option,” I promise as I continue to survey the area.

She scoffs. Her exasperation grows when I don’t immediately look at her.

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