Page 51 of Corrupt Vows

Matteo stomps across the room and backhands Bianca. Disgust curls through me.

Serenity trembles and leans against me.

I take a deep, calming breath, shifting her tiny frame harder against my front, and count to three before exhaling.

“Is this how you settle domestic disputes, Matteo?” I ask.

I pride myself over the cold menace in my tone when what I long to do is snarl, spit, and decimate the small-minded jerk for hitting his woman in front of me.

If he’d hit his wife, there’s no telling what monstrous things he’d do to his daughter. Is nothing sacred to him? I can’t imagine allowing anyone to lift a hand to my sisters or stepmother. Even without a blood relation, I’d rather cut off my own fingers than hurt them.

When Matteo opens his mouth, I already know he’s going to say something to tip me over the edge.

“You said she—”

“She’s yourwife,” I interrupt. “You slapped your wife in front of your daughter and the man she’ll marry. You’ve broadcasted your message loud and clear.” I don the mask I reserve for interrogations, ensuring my message carries clearly to his egotistical mind. “I willnottolerate abuse in my family. If you ever hurt Serenity again, there is nowhere you can go, no amount of money or power you can earn to escape my wrath. Iwilleliminate the threat to my bride.”

I don’t ask if he understands. He’ll either understand or ruin everything he’s ever worked for. Or die. The hard set of his jaw testifies to his quick wit.

“Now get me some ice for her hand,” I say.

The delicate skin on the back of her hand reddens and I wonder why in the hell Bianca Vivaldi had a cup of joe with the heat of the sun trapped inside on the table next to her.

Matteo turns to command Bianca, but Itskin admonition.

“Not her, Matteo. You. Get your daughter and your wife ice.”

He clacks his teeth together and strides to the kitchen as though his asshole puckered up. Without an ounce of violence, I emasculate Matteo Vivaldi in front of two of the three women he lorded over for most of his life.

I didn’t hear their conversation, but Serenity’s angry tone called me down the hall toward them, and since she came to see her sister, I know something’s wrong.

I drop my chin to the top of Serenity’s head and stroke her side with my thumb as I breathe in her delicate perfume. The tension in her tiny frame vibrates into my body.

She waits until her father returns to speak. I lift my head to my full height, enjoying the wariness in Matteo’s eyes.

“Camilla isnotwell. She can’t stay here. She needs help.”

Bianca swaps tactics as easily as if she were putting on a different hat.

“We’re trying to find the best place to send her. We want only the best doc—”

“You mean the most discreet, right?” Serenity interrupts. “No, sorry, you don’t get to choose, not after you neglected and abandoned her when she needed you most.” She pauses and digs her nails into my arm. I give her a gentle squeeze, offering her all my support.

This isn’t my family. I don’t understand the dynamics as well as she does, so I let her take the lead. She knows best. I trust her.

“I’ll find the best psychiatrist and mental health hospital forher, not you, and make the arrangements tonight. Expect a car in the morning. If she doesn’t get in it—in better shape than she is today—it’ll mean war between the Vivaldi and Russo families.” She pauses again, but this silence conveys a seriousness every hardened killer and criminal would appreciate. “War, papà. Nothing less.”

He has the audacity to lift an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Camilla is my daughter, and so are you. Don’t overstep, Serenity.”

Red-hot fury rips through me, but Serenity’s response proves far more satisfying than using the knife at my belt.

“I’m not yours anymore, papà. I’m Nico’s.” She punctuates this by flexing her nails into my flesh and pulling the corners of her lips up in a sweet yet somehow threatening smile before she continues. “If you want me to keepanyties to the Vivaldi name, you should consider your next wordsverycarefully.”

Matteo stares at us as the cogs churn in his mind. He shifts his gaze up to mine.

“Are you really willing to risk everything over this?”

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