Page 12 of Twisted Vows

His mouth flattens, and I know he’s silently telling me to fuck myself. “At least you got out of protection gig…that’s gotta be something.”

He slides his hand through his hair, and I notice the blue face of his watch. A Grand Seiko that goes for a quarter of a million dollars. Strange. He’s not pulling in that kind of money. I hear my brother’s voice before I can consider what it means.

“Vince, remind this one what happens when orders aren’t followed.”

“Got it, boss.” Vince smiles like a shark and leads Emilio down the hall.

“Too bad, so sad.”

“Arianna, get in here,” Franco commands loudly.

“Coming.” I amble into the room slowly. The library’s dim interior is a perfect match for the man sitting behind the oversized desk. My brother doesn’t bother looking up as I enter. His fingers tap against the edge of a crystal glass, the ice clinking like a countdown.

I hate this room but force myself to walk across the thick carpet, each step deliberate. The joy of seeing Emilio being knocked down a peg evaporates since whatever comes next will likely change my life.

Silence stretches when I stop in front of the desk. After an interminable minute, Franco finally looks up, his expression as unreadable as always.

“The events from the party have backed us into a corner, Ari,” he says, his voice flat. “The only way to stop a civil war is marriage—or Sicily.”

“Sicily?” I say quietly. “Are we talking a nice, quiet nunnery?”

“Yes.” Franco leans back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight. He steeples his fingers, his eyes locking onto mine. “Your years of antics have made sweeping this incidentunder the carpet impossible. The old men are up in arms, and the only way to calm them down is to—”

“Make me pay for Gio’s insult,” I say quietly, my stomach churning. “A man paws me and receives no consequences.”

“Your soon-to-befiancédoled out the punishment.”

“Wait?” I stare at my brother blindly and see he’s serious. “What are you saying?” I ask, my voice laced with disbelief. “My future husband is—”

“Maxsim Volkov,” he cuts in like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

I blink, thrown off balance for a split second. “This is your brilliant solution?”

“Not my idea, and for the record, he made a compelling case and all but insisted on the betrothal.”

I let out a short, hollow laugh. “And you just rolled over? Since when have you allowed anyone to push you around?”

Franco’s eyes darken. “No one pushed. And it’s a reasonable solution to the challenges we’re facing.”

I don’t know whether to be impressed or horrified. “So let me get this straight, one of your lieutenants takes liberties, and I have to marry Maxsim?”

Franco pushes his chair back and moves around the desk until he’s towering over me like a judge about to pass a sentence. With a sinking feeling, I accept he’ll easily sacrifice me to protect the family’s reputation.

“This alliance is fragile, Ari,” Franco says, his tone almost casual, like we’re discussing the weather. “Not everyone is thrilled about working with the Russians. One wrong move, and we’re looking at a full-blown civil war within our ranks.”

“So, I’m supposed to play sacrificial lamb to keep the peace?” I shoot back, my voice sharper than I intend.

“You’re a pawn in a much bigger game,” Franco replies, his gaze steady, unyielding. “But don’t fool yourself—Maxsim sees you as a queen, not a pawn.”

“Queens are still captured, Franco. They’re still used.”

His tone softens, but only slightly. “It needs to be done.”

“Even if he’s more monster than human?”

“I won’t argue with your description, but for some reason, he wants to protect you, and in the current situation, that’s incredibly valuable.”

“And what if I refuse?” I challenge, forcing steel into my voice. “What if I say no to all of this?”

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