Page 10 of Twisted Vows

I clench my jaw, my teeth grinding together. I know he’s right, but it takes everything in me not to snap back. The idea of letting Gio walk after what he did feels like a knife in my side. Alexey’s grip tightens, a silent command to stay in control.

I give him a stiff nod, the only sign of agreement he’s going to get out of me. I don’t like it, but I’m not stupid enough to ignore him. We head back to the ballroom together, slipping into the crowd like nothing happened. The music is loud, the laughter and clinking glasses are deafening, but it all feels like background noise to the rage that continues to build.

I drift through the ballroom, hearing snatches of conversation that fuel the fire already burning in my gut.

“…she practically threw herself at him…”

“…Gio had to fight her off…”

My grip tightens around the glass in my hand. I’m ready to shatter it, to let the shards fly and pierce through every lie I hear. Ari’s name is being dragged through the dirt by people who couldn’t match her in a thousand lifetimes.

They want to paint her as desperate? Pathetic? I clench my jaw so tight I’m surprised my teeth don’t crack.

I toss back the rest of my drink and scan the room for Anton. I spot him near the entrance, watching the crowd with that calm, detached look he’s perfected over the years. He senses me before I make a move, and when our eyes meet, I give him a single nod. Silent but clear.

Anton dips his chin slightly, acknowledging the unspoken command. The game is about to change, and Gio is about to become the prey.

He’s holding court in a corner, boasting about his so-called conquest to a group of soldiers. The lies drip from his mouth like poison as he spins the tale so that the blood on his neck makes sense.

Are they foolish enough to buy it, or can they see through his pathetic bravado?

I cut through the crowd, the look on my face, part people like the Red Sea. The buzz of conversation dulls as I approach the group, a ripple of awareness spreading through the room.

By the time I’m in Gio’s space, the group around falls silent. A few men exchange uneasy glances, and one or two subtly step back. Everyone knows what I’m capable of.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Gio asks with fake sincerity.

“I don’t care for men who lie.” I step closer, seeing sweat bead on his forehead. “And dishonor a person’s name.”

I can feel the room holding its breath, waiting. Gio’s smirk falters for just a second as he realizes I’m not going to stop at a simple warning. His eyes dart to the men surrounding him, seeking an escape.

Anton shifts his hand on his holster as Nikolai joins us.

Gio’s hollow laugh falls flat. “You must be referring to Ari’s... advances.”

“Watch your mouth,” I growl, my patience snapping like a twig.

“Or what?” His eyes challenge me, daring me to make a move.

“Or this,” I say, grabbing his wrist. With a swift motion, I twist, feeling the bones snap under my grip.

I keep the pressure on his wrist, watching as the pain contorts his face. “This,” I say, my voice cold, “is so you have time to reflect on how to treat innocent women.”

The final snap is brutal. I feel the bones give way under my grip, a sickening crunch that reverberates through the room. I release him, watching him stumble back, his pride shattered as thoroughly as his wrist.

“Consider this a warning,” I hiss, my voice low and deadly. “Touch her again, and it’ll be more than just your hand.”

“Y-you’re insane,” he growls, cradling his broken hand. “This is going to ignite a war between the families.”

“I doubt it.” I look around at the curious faces. “Disrespecting the granddaughter of thecapo di tutti capihas only one consequence. All I’ve done is take care of the trash for our host.”

Gio’s men surround him, escorting escort him from the room.

Anton and Nikolai stay close, silent shadows radiating menace. The crowd is frozen in place. Some faces are pale with shock, others tight with suppressed amusement. A few glance around, whispering behind their hands, no doubt delighted to see Gio taken down a peg. But most wear the same wary expression, as if trying to decide whether to cheer or distance themselves from the fallout.

Let them see what happens when lines are crossed. Alexey and Franco study me from across the room, their expressions unreadable.

What did I just set in motion? The satisfaction of punishing Gio is brief.

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