Page 13 of Twisted Vows
Franco’s expression doesn’t change. “Then pack your bags. The sisters in Sicily will be expecting you.”
I grit my teeth, swallowing the anger that threatens to choke me. “You’d really send me away? Out of sight, out of mind?”
“Better that than watching you get destroyed by the wolves here. At least in the nunnery, you’ll be safe.”
Confusion mixes with the fear and anger already simmering in my stomach. The idea of Maxsim stepping in on my behalf is bewildering.
“Believe it or not, this isn’t about punishment, Ari. It’s about survival. Yours, mine, ours,” Franco continues. “Maxsim isn’t just any man. He’s a man who can keep you alive, no matter what happens.”
“And what kind of life is that? Trapped in another cage, only this time with a Russian lock?”
“Better a cage than a grave,” Franco says without missing a beat. “You’ll figure out how to make it work. You always do.”
I turn away from him, needing a moment to catch my breath. The weight of his words press down on me, heavy and suffocating. When Maxsim and I met a few years ago, he audaciously proclaimed that we should get married. Somethingabout the Bratva’s madman and the Mafia’s wild child changing the landscape forever.
I had no idea he meant to follow through. “I won’t let him control me,” I murmur, more to myself than to my brother.
“You might find that with Maxsim, it’s not about control. It’s about power—and what you can do with it.”
His words plant seeds of doubt and... something else. Something I don’t want to name just yet.
I walk over to the large windows and gather my composure. The estate’s gardens stretch before me as my fingers brush the small jewel hanging around my neck. It’s one every woman in the family receives when she turns fourteen. I remember the words Nonna said when she gave it to me—always keep a way out, cara.
I stare at my reflection in the glass, seeing a woman torn between the lesser of two evils. Do I choose the devil I don’t know, or do I spend the rest of my days in a convent?
I hear Franco’s footsteps as he moves closer. His hand lands on my shoulder gently. “Marrying Maxsim will strengthen our position and keep you safe.”
Safe. The word hangs between us, a bitter joke. Safe in a marriage to a man who’s more myth than human. Franco’s grip tightens slightly as if he can squeeze agreement out of me.
“This is the only answer,” he continues, his tone laced with certainty, “We can’t afford to decimate our ranks because someone dared to cross theDonby seeking revenge for Gio.”
Franco turns me around so we’re facing one another. “You marrying Maxsim will send a clear message that we are united, strong, and untouchable.” He pauses, his eyes flickering for just a moment. “Ari… this is the only way I can keep you safe.”
The weight of his words makes it hard to breathe.
“If this alliance crumbles, we’ll have war. Sal Santoro’s been circling like a vulture, waiting for one crack to take New Yorkand everything we’ve fought for. If that happens, we’ll lose more than just power, Ari. We’ll lose people, soldiers, and allies.” His words are cold, calculated, designed to push me into the corner he’s carefully prepared. “You may hate this marriage, but believe me, you’ll hate what happens if you refuse even more.”
I think of the people this would affect—the loyal soldiers, the innocent bystanders caught in the crossfire. The thought of their blood on my hands twists my gut, forcing me to consider the price of defiance.
Franco gently lifts my chin. “This marriage could offer you power…influence if you play your cards right. The Volkov’s reach stretches all the way to Russia, so there’s a possibility of shaping your destiny within this union.”
His words strike a chord deep within me. The idea is tempting. I’ve spent so long feeling powerless, trapped by the expectations of this family, that the thought of having some control over my future is like a lifeline.
Not to mention the enormous upside of being away from my mother’s constant judgment. That alone makes the prospect almost enticing.
I take a deep breath, meeting Franco’s gaze with as much steel as I can muster. “I’ll marry him,” I say, my voice steady, though my heart pounds.
The thought of Maxsim—of being bound to a man I can’t read, can’t predict—sends a shiver down my spine. But this is a chance to play the game on my own terms.
Franco nods, a small smile of approval curving his lips. It’s the smile of a man who thinks he’s just won a battle. “I knew you’d see reason,” he says, his tone confident. “I’ll make the arrangements. You’ll be married by the end of the month.”
I tip my head in agreement and then stride out of the library. As the door clicks shut, I pause in the hallway, taking a moment to steady myself.
The cool air is a sharp contrast to the suffocating tension in that room. “You are a Bianchi,” I remind myself. Maxsim Volkov might think he’s getting a dutiful wife, but he’s in for a surprise.
I’ll find a way to use this marriage to gain the power and influence Franco dangled in front of me. And when the time is right, I’ll no longer be a pawn but the queen.
CHAPTER SIX