Page 26 of Corrupt Vows

She meets my gaze, but looks away after a few seconds. I follow my father up the stairs, allowing him the place of respect even though I handle most of the Russo family business affairs. He founded our fame. I grew our wealth.

I’m not done building our family legacy, either.

We greet Matteo and Bianca before Giorgio and Narciso—Matteo’s brother and consigliere—join in. After a few moments of catching up, my father gestures for me to continue down the line while he remains with the head of the household.

I step in front of Camilla for the first time since our parents called off our marriage. She stands with her shoulders back, upholding the Vivaldi pride, but with her arm in a cast, her makeup heavy on her face to hide the lingering bruises, and a loose-fitting pantsuit covering her curves, she’s obviously still recovering. With her defenses in place, she meets my gaze with empty eyes and places her fingers in my offered hand.

She’s gained new demons since the last time I saw her, and I relate enough to keep my mouth shut when she doesn’t offer me a verbal greeting. I release her hand and move on without a word.

Serenity’s glare as I turn my attention to her takes me by surprise. Not even two minutes ago, she seemed nervous and scared, but not an ounce of uncertainty remains in her now. Daggers of hatred shoot from her eyes.

I smirk in anticipation of ruining whatever game she intends to play today.

“Good afternoon, Serenity,” I say as I offer her my hand.

For a moment, she clings to her stubbornness and waits long past what’s socially acceptable before lifting her hand and placing it in mine. Natalie and Bella greet Camilla, but the somber silence flowing between the three of them infects the tension between Serenity and me. She flicks her attention to Natalie.

I take advantage of her distraction and bend to press my lips against her knuckles, but instead of a chaste kiss, I linger and sneak the tip of my tongue between her fingers in a slow, sensual caress.

I smirk as she turns wide eyes down at me. Her pupils dilate. She flushes and tries to pull away, but I keep her hand firmly in mine as I straighten.

Natalie elbows my side. I quirk a brow down at her and stand my ground.

Yesterday afternoon, I let her gatekeep me from my future bride, but not today. We’re no longer in their territory—dress shops, nail salons, and jewelry stores will always be women’s terrain—but today’s party isn’t for the ladies.

It’s for the men. I plan to show every swinging dick and wandering eye just how unavailable Serenity Vivaldi is now.

She’s mine.

I pivot to stand beside her and slide my hand along her lower back to rest my fingers on the upper swell of her hip, never letting go of her other hand. She stiffens as I lean down to murmur in her ear.

“Ready to greet your future sisters-in-law,principessa?”

She gives me a scathing side glare before offering me the fakest, most condescending smile I’ve ever received in my entire life.

“I’m happy to become part of their family,” she says.

She delivers her verbal jab with such precision I can’t help but admire her even as my anger rises. My sisters are welcome to become part of her inner circle.

I’m not.

When I realize how effectively she’s baiting me, I smirk down at her, release her hand, and pull her tighter against my side. I meet Natalie’s comically wide eyes and dig my fingers into Serenity’s hip as I speak.

“Girls, meet my future wife, Serenity Vivaldi, soon to be Serenity Russo. Treat her well. She’s precious to me.”

There’s no mistaking the sarcasm in my voice. Natalie gasps my name like a mother scolding a wayward child. Camilla’s dead eyes ghost over us before she spins on her heel and disappears into the house. When no one stops her, I study her family’s faces. A frown tugs at Bianca’s lips. Matteo’s eyes harden before he dons an expression of concern.

My gaze catches on Narciso Vivaldi. As her uncle, he has every right to show concern for her, but the tilt of his lips doesn’t quite match the gleam in his eyes.

“What the h—” Natalie looks toward our stepmom and rethinks her response before continuing, “What in the world are you doing?”

“I’m past due for my rabies shot, remember?”

“Are you going to pee on her?”

“If I need to.”

“Ew. Fine, I can take a hint. Sorry, Nitty, we’ll hang out later,” Natalie says before weaving her fingers through Bella’s and tugging her away. The fourteen-year-old looks at me as though I’ve gone senile.

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