Page 40 of Heartless Vows

His lack of finesse in delivering the news both annoys and relieves me.

“Oh,” Serenity hesitates and glances behind us before asking, “When?”

“In four months,” Giorgio says.

“Well, that’s terrifyingly familiar. Did Papà spring it on you the same way he did me?” she asks.

Disbelief spears through me. I saw Nico and Serenity’s betrothal announcement and wedding invitations in my mother’s emails and texts, but didn’t look at the dates close enough to realize they married so quickly.

“It seems he’s mastered the art of ambushing his children,” Giorgio says.

Serenity’s expression turns mutinous. She aims a glare behind us again. I glimpse Nico’s reflection in the backsplash and realize he’s leaning on the wall in the living room.

“We’re changing Camilla’s phone number and blocking our parents’ information. They arenotputting her through that. I don’t care if she has to cut contact with them permanently. She—”

As Serenity continues her rant, I lower my eyes to the counter, feeling like an interloper witnessing something private and precious. I’m envious of her ability to voice her concern for her sister.

My long, lonely past stretches behind me. I wish I had a sister like her to protect me. Hell, any sibling near my age would be amazing, but the ten-year gap between Tristan and me makes our dynamic seem more like a mother and child.

I don’t regret raising my brother—he’s always been the best thing about my life—but the constant weight of responsibility, fear, and loneliness sometimes feels like too much to bear.

“Whatever you think is best,” Nico says in response to Serenity’s concern.

Her anger melts away and tears fill her eyes.

“Come here,mia principessa,” Nico demands.

Serenity crosses the kitchen and disappears into his arms, mumbling about stupid hormones and babies and virile mafia men.

I jump when Giorgio’s massive hand encompasses the back of mine on the glass.

“Squeeze any harder and you might break it,” he murmurs.

My lame response is to squeak and slip my hand out from under his.

“I’m okay now. You called him over for a reason, so go take care of it,” Serenity says with a final sniffle and a push out of her husband’s arms.

When Nico reaches for her, she swats him away and starts toward us.

“That’s your hint to get out of the room. It’s time for girl talk,” she tells Giorgio.

After an extensive study of my face, Giorgio tucks a stray hair behind my ear before following Nico into the study.

Serenity opens the fridge and systematically fills the counter with containers of food.

“I swear, as soon as our honeymoon ended, all I wanted to do was eat all day long. Snacks are easier to digest, maybe? There’s plenty to share, so just grab a fork and dive in.”

I stare at the options, too overwhelmed to move.

“I’m sorry, that’s probably gross. Nico’s had me in lockdown for a few weeks, so the probability of me being sick is basically in the negatives, but if you’d rather—”

I reach into the drawer and grab a fork before she can close it.

“No. Please. Thank you.”

The right words won’t form. Emotions threaten to bury me.

Serenity’s slim yet strong arms wrap around me.

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