Page 24 of Heartless Vows

I swallow and study his parents’ faces. The crease between Bianca’s eyes displays her unhappiness while Matteo’s raised brows show his surprise. My father’s tight smile sends dread through my limbs.

“Aurora, honey, are you alright?”

My mother’s fake concern curdles my stomach. She’s never once called mehoneywithout a crowd. Bile rises in my throat.

Giorgio sets down his drink, and on impulse—and needing something to do with my hands—I pick it up and drain half the glass before my brain catches up with my movements.

Embarrassment heats my face at my audacity, but at least now the taste of vomit no longer lingers at the back of my throat.

As I set down the glass, Giorgio drapes his arm across the back of my chair and melts every molecule in my body with a scorching look. I swear my brain leaks right out of my ears, because I just stare at him like an idiot.

A harried server, full of apologies, breaks my stupor. I blink and peel my gaze away from Giorgio’s and stiffen as I meet my mother’s narrowed eyes.

“I’m fine, Mamma,” I lie.

When awkward silence descends, I realize my parents don’t dare question Giorgio despite their curiosity. Even his own parents hesitate.

He uses the opportunity to take over the conversation.

“Aurora and I spoke. She’ll continue to live at home until after our wedding, but we’ll sign a prenup this afternoon and start our efforts to grow our family as soon as possible.”

No one moves for a moment. I fight the urge to shrink into my seat, unwilling to show an ounce of uncertainty when every individual in this room would happily bleed me dry and toss me aside without an ounce of guilt.

Everyone except Giorgio. I hope.

He’s kept his word so far, and I want to trust him, so I put my faith in him. Kind of.

“Mio figlio, that’s wonderful news. We also had a discussion while you were gone, and I think we raised some important issues,” Bianca Vivaldi says.

My mother picks up the conversation.

“Aurora will visit your physician for a full workup in the morning, and since you’re so busy, I’ll go with her.”

Her thinly veiled threat hits deep behind my sternum, but there’s nothing more I can do to ensure my bloodwork comes back as normal. I haven’t skipped a single dose of my medicine in years and feel as close to normal as I can. Plus, it’s been almost seven years since I’ve had symptoms.

But there’s always a possibility my numbers will be off enough to cause suspicion.

“I’ll clear my schedule and take her myself. You don’t need to join us.”

I swing my attention to Giorgio, surprised by his response.

His stony expression brooks no argument, but my mother foolishly pushes. Realizing she may arouse more suspicion, Ichoose the path of least resistance and place my hand on Giorgio’s thigh, ensuring I have his full attention.

“I’d like her to come, too. It’ll be nice to have you both there.”

It feels like the biggest lie I’ve ever told in my entire life, but I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my brother from my mother’s ire, and when I realize just how much of Giorgio’s attention I have, the sour taste leaves my mouth. His dark eyes bore into mine as he leans a little closer and shifts his leg in my grip. The hard ridge of his cock nudges my fingertips.

“Since it’s already so late in the day, why don’t I book you an appointment with our lawyer for tomorrow morning after Aurora’s physical? I think that’s a better use of everyone’s time instead of scrambling to meet the lawyer today,” Matteo Vivaldi says.

Giorgio pulls his eyes away from mine and contemplates his father’s offer before nodding. I wonder if anyone else notices his reluctance, but if they do, they don’t show it.

With business matters settled, our parents move on to other topics. I thank the server for the new dishes and try to slip my hand off Giorgio’s leg, but he reaches across his lap and pins my wrist in place. Among talk of wedding venues, flowers, and cake decorations, he drops his arm from the back of my chair, swaps hands, and feeds me food from his plate. Moths flutter in my abdomen, but I refuse to admit how much I enjoy his attentiveness, so I pretend to listen to the conversation.

Matteo stands, signaling the end of lunch, and pulls Bianca’s chair out for her. Giorgio tightens his grip on my wrist and dabs his napkin over my lips. My insides clench as he allows the fabric to slip away. His thumb skims over my bottom lip. Lava pools between my legs as his eyes morph to melted dark chocolate. He pulls my lip down before trailing his fingers down the front of my throat.

When his knuckles brush against my breasts, I suck in a breath, but he plucks the napkin from my lap and tosses it onto the table before surging to his feet.

My legs wobble, but he pulls me to his side and hooks my hand over his forearm.

---