Page 3 of Corrupt Vows

I nod like a puppet and hesitate as I focus on my sister’s body. With her gown unsnapped from her tussle with the nurses, the parted fabric reveals three small square patches along her lower abdomen and the hospital-grade disposable mesh underwear she’s wearing.

Neither is necessary for arm surgery.

I stumble before catching myself on the footboard. As the nurses bustle around me, making sure my sister is as comfortable as she can be, I stare at Camilla’s slack face and fight the urge to throw up.

I turn to ask the blonde a question, but I can’t peel my dry tongue off the roof of my mouth, so I snatch my purse off the chair and stagger into the hallway.

All three guards stand, but I ignore them and fish my phone out of my purse.

I call my mom and press the phone to my ear.

Fear skitters down my spine as my father answers.

“Come home, Serenity. Now,” he says.

“Yes, sir,” I respond through numb lips.

As I hang up and drop my phone into my purse, Sebastian follows me into the elevator and mashes the button to close the door before anyone else enters.

Horror cages me into a box of disbelief.

I don’t want to think about what my sister must have gone through, but there’s only one reason my parents wouldn’t have told me about her abdominal surgery.

They said she’d survived a car crash caused by a rival gang and caught a few fists before her bodyguards saved her, but I don’t believe them. Not anymore.

Dread curdles my stomach, and I eye the trash can containing my empty coffee cup, but I won’t embarrass my family by vomiting in public, so I continue past and step out into the sun.

The light doesn’t reach my soul. I’ll always carry this darkness within me.

Long buried memories threaten to resurface. I turn off my thoughts and drop into the backseat of the car.

Despite my blank mind, premonition eats away at my patience.

For the first time in years, I wish I could run away.

Worse is yet to come. I don’t know what it is, but every cell in my body insists I should flee.

Except there’s no way out for me. I’m a mafia princess, just like my sister. No matter what horrors we face, there’s no distance we could travel, no amount of money we could earn, and no man on earth strong enough to free us from this life.

I stare out the window but see nothing as we hurtle through the city.

Chapter 2

Nico Russo

I pull the ends of the ragtighter—lifting the man’s head higher—and grind my heel harder against his hand. Shattered bones crunch into smaller pieces. The filthy gag muffles his scream, but his legs tap against the floor with pathetic desperation. I lift my foot and drop the ends of the towel. His face smacks into the concrete floor and blood spurts from his already broken nose. I curse and curl my fist into the disgusting hair at the back of his head as I squat down beside him and lift his face.

“I won’t ask you twice, so listen carefully, Diablo,” I warn. He stiffens as I say his name.

“Yeah, I know who you are. I know where you’re from. I know everything about you, you sorrypezzo di merda.”

He sobs and coughs up blood.

“I know all about your failed drug runs in Boretti territory. I know you lost yourbest menwhen you tested the Vivaldi family,” I mock, adding more insult to his meager pride, and shift the tip of my shoe over his wrecked fingers. “And I know you’ve got two girls waiting for you in Philly.”

He chokes and stutters. I twist my fingers in his hair and give him a vicious yank before pulling out the gag.

“So I know it wasn’t your sorry ass who funded this op. Where’d you get the money, Diablo?”

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