Page 8 of Heartless Vows

Disbelief runs down my spine. The last time I saw Aurora Achilles, she was an awkward and scrawny preteen. Dressed in a frilly white dress for an outdoor summer wedding, she’d pulled her brother away from me as though I had the plague, then fainted right at my feet. At nineteen, it was the most embarrassing moment of my life.

“How old is she?” I ask.

“Eighteen.”

Something in my uncle’s countenance splits my attention between him and the thoughts thundering through my mind.

If Aurora is eighteen now, then she’s seven years younger than I am. She must have been about twelve years old when she fainted at my feet, so it’s been over six years since I’ve seen her.

In fact, I’ve not heard anything about her since then either. No one has even said her name. Her parents rarely miss social events, but they never mention her or her brother.

My unease grows.

“Why the long face, Giorgio?” my father asks.

When I meet the calculating gleam in his dark eyes, ice encases my soul.

“I haven’t seen her in years. She was still a child the last time I saw her.”

“Does it matter what she looks like now?” My uncle chuckles as he clinks the ice in his glass. “She’s eighteen. I doubt you’ll have trouble wedding and bedding her.” He takes a sip and sets his glass down on the coffee table. “You’re both in your prime. Just have some fun breaking her in and knocking her up, then go back to playing around at the club.”

I grind my teeth and suck down a steadying breath before leaning forward and propping my elbows on my knees.

“She’s an Achilles,mio frio. I’m not sure that’s the best advice, but I’ll keep it in mind.”

His pupils shrink as I glare at him, daring him to refute me.

The Achilles family may not be as prominent as the Vivaldi family, but they have their own power. As one of New York City’s founding mafia families, only the stupid would dare cross them.

My uncle isn’t dumb. He wouldn’t say something so insulting in public, but he shouldn’t say it in private, either. Not after throwing unexpected news at me.

I sit back and sigh.

“Fine, then. A wedding in four months. When do we meet my bride-to-be?” I ask.

“Now. They should arrive any minute for lunch,” my father says.

It’s an underhanded tactic, and I don’t appreciate him using it on me, but voicing my frustration won’t help me now.

I aim unimpressed eyes at the man I once revered and allow more of my respect to fall away. With rage, guilt, and self-hatred fueling me, I see him as I’ve never seen him before.

Yes, he’s a powerful, deadly man, but he’s no longer the protector I once assumed he was.

We both failed my sisters, yet he shows no remorse.

“Good. Let’s get this over with, then,” I growl and wrap my determination to remain aloof in their presence around my spine.

It won’t be difficult. All I have to think about is how humiliating it was to have a tiny, gangly mafia princess wrapped in frills pass out at my feet.

Until I step into the foyer and come face-to-face with a fallen angel. With emerald eyes, legs for days, and trim curves that would tempt a saint, Aurora Achilles may be the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.

I’m so fucked.

Chapter 3

Aurora Achilles

My mother glares at meas my father exits the car and reaches for her door. Fear squeezes my heart.

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