Page 22 of Cruel Vows

Ellie’ssharp intake of breath is the only thing that lets me know she likes the large house on Long Island.

As the iron gates pull open, revealing the winding driveway that leads to the garage, her eyes widen more.

“I didn’t think places like this existed in New York.”

“You have your own family home.”

She shrugs as I park the car in the garage. “Nothing that looks like it is straight out of the twenties. I mean, look at this driveway. You have gardens in the center of the driveway and incredible art deco stone.”

I drive up the slight incline that leads to the huge centerpiece in front of the massive paned glass front door. “My home is yours now.”

Her mouth presses into a thin line as she gets out of the car. Her train trails behind her as she leans over the white stone railing to look down at the gardens below.

“This place is like something out of a fairy tale.” Ellie glances down the other side of the U-shaped driveway while I stand beside her, wishing I could see the place through her eyes for just a moment.

To me, those stones are the ones I had to scrub blood from when I was only seven. That railing is the one I pushed a man over when he tried to kidnap me when I was nine. I still remember the sound his neck made when it snapped.

I clear my throat, stuffing my hands in my pockets. “Inside. We have things to discuss.”

“How many square feet is this place?” She follows me into the house, heels clicking against the hardwood floors.

“Over sixty thousand, I think. Dad bought it. Left it for me when he and Mom built a bigger place on the other side of the city.”

She nods and stops in the kitchen, running her fingers along the lilac veins of the white marble countertops. “This is beautiful.”

I lead her to the fluted glass doors, pushing them open into the living room and heading through to one of the hallways. She follows behind me, her gaze roaming as she takes in the house.

Ellie follows me up the winding stairs to the suite of rooms that I’ve had prepared for her.

I push open the door. “This is going to be your room. There’s a terrace, bathroom, study, and a closet that should be big enough for your things. Once you’re done getting changed, meet me in the living room.”

Her gaze zeros in on the massive bed in the center of the room. “I would rather just rest. It’s been a long day.”

“Not happening. We need to get on the same page about what our life is going to look like going forward. You might be used to doing things a certain way in Aiden’s household, but that’s not how your life is going to run here.”

Before she has the chance to start running that pretty little mouth of hers, I turn and slam the door shut.

Right now, I’m not in the mood for her shit.

I got married today. To a woman I can’t stand.

Sixteen years after I killed her father.

Groaning, I take off the suit jacket and tie, tossing them into the bedroom at the other end of the hall from hers. I lock my door before I head downstairs, not wanting her to start digging through my things.

The more separate we keep our lives, the better.

Dominic looks up from his phone as I walk into the kitchen. “How was the wedding?”

I want to wipe the smirk right off his face. “Hell. Marco decided to tell Dad that the marriage should be consummated with witnesses.”

“Excuse me?” Dominic spins around and opens one of the cabinets, pulling out a bottle of bourbon, handing it to me.

My pour is heavy, the amber liquid sloshing around the sides of the glass. “I’ll deal with Marco in time. Can’t kill him so soon after he’s pissed me off and humiliated my wife.”

“Oh, so now she’s your wife?” Dominic’s tone is teasing as he crosses his arms over his broad chest. The man is built more like a brick wall than a human, but that’s why he’s been my advisor and friend for over a decade.

“May as well get used to saying it.” The bourbon is smooth as it goes down, easing some of the tension that’s been eating at me. “Whether I like it or not, Ellie is my wife.”

---