Page 80 of Mafia King's Forbidden Vows

Cortez leans forward, narrowing his eyes. “So you’re not going to fall in love with her one day? Or pull out of the mafia because of her?”

I eye his arched brows. He looks confused…disappointed even, and there’s a glimmer of pain I spot beyond his expression. A small breath escapes my lips.

His words hang in the air for a few seconds, and I turn back to the window, my gaze fixed on the skyline.

I contemplate his words. It’s true. I had sworn I would never feel, never love, and certainly never hurt because of love. It has always been a foreign concept to me. I was too protective of what I had achieved after going through the hell I did as a child. I would never let any woman, any feelings, or any distractions derail me from my intended path. The path to leading my mafia family to becoming the most powerful empire not only in New York, but also across America. And I was, am, well on my way.

Then a feisty, innocent little spitfire from a totally opposite world, no less, swaggered into my life. She was supposed to remain just that temporary object of pleasure! Especially with that untouched sweet cunt of hers. But when I felt this uncontrollable rage the first time I caught another man looking at her−a rage that made me want to rip out his eyes−I knew I was screwed. Because I realized I’m not just liking Aria Abruzzi, I’ve landed head-first in love with her.

Nonetheless, I am not ready to admit it yet. Not to anyone else, anyway. I have to first make sense of all ofthismyself. Make sure that my mind, heart−and dick−are all in sync.

“There’s nothing to worry about, Brother. I won’t suddenly abandon my hard work over the years. And I definitely won’t be abandoning you,” I say instead. “Why don’t you run along?C’è un matrimonio da pianificare(There’s a wedding to plan).”

He opens his mouth and looks like he’s about to say something, but then shakes his head and stands up. “If you say so, Boss. I guess congratulations are in order.”

The grin that spreads across my face is genuine. My hands reach out for his outstretched hand. There are no words between us, but we hold each other’s gaze for a while. Then he nods and leaves.

Alone again, I lean against the windowsill and take a deep breath. No, despite these ‘feelings,’ I can’t let this marriage thing be anything more than business. And with that, I feel my brain trying to take over again.

For fuck’s sake, why can’t you get your head and dick in line?

***

Standing in front of the full-length mirror in my walk-in closet, I adjust the lapels of the navy-colored suit I’m wearing. My hair has been slicked back in the smoothest way I’ve ever worn it. This wedding may not be the real deal, but it’s going to be realenough to announce to the whole world that Aria Abruzzi is officially a Donatelli now.

Speaking of Aria, I can hear heels clicking in the doorway. Her mass of hair is tied into a ponytail on her head, and she’s lined her eyes so darkly they stand out against the rest of her face. She’s fucking beautiful.

“Whatever is going on, tell me it’s your idea of a joke,” she snaps, crossing the room in quick, furious strides. “How the hell am I just hearing that we’re getting married now?”

Honestly, I was expecting something more fiery from her. My facial expression is left neutral as I stare into those charming eyes of hers. “I see you’ve heard. It’s not a big deal, just something official to seal our union…”

“Seal our union?” Her lashes blink furiously as her mouth goes open and closes itself shut again, scoffing lightly. “Elio Donatelli, tell me you’re messing around right now.”

“Go get dressed, Princess. Your father’s on his way.”

Her eyes widen as she throws up her hands. “You invited my father? To a wedding I didn’t even know about?”

“Well…yes,” is the most logical response right now, especially since she has her hands akimbo and is walking up and down the length of my bedroom.

“You must really be crazy to think I’m actually walking down some aisle to officially marry you. What we already have, the pretend proposal and our living arrangement, should suffice for our deal.”

Before I can respond, her phone buzzes in her hands. She glances at the screen, then back at me, ignoring the call.

“Aria,” my voice is as calm as can be. “Instead of standing here and arguing with me, do the wise thing and get dressed. Wearegetting married,Bellissima!”

Her mouth opens, ready to unleash more fury, but she stops when the ringing begins again. My eyes dart toward the caller ID. It’s her dad. Her shoulders rise and fall as she takes a deep breath, then storms out without another word.

No matter how much of a fuss she makes, Aria Abruzzi is only a couple of minutes away from being completely mine. It’s fucking time!

***

The well-groomed garden behind the Donatelli mansion is quiet, save for the soft rustle of leaves and the distant chirp of birds. Soft, colorful blooms entwine with the green shrubs, creating nature’s masterpiece.

There are no fancifully arranged chairs–just a simple altar set up at the far end with a priest standing patiently in his black robeand white collar. The late afternoon sun casts a harsh orange glow over everything.

Cortez closes an eye at me in a wink as I advance towards the altar, my hands clasped in front of me. He’s dressed sharply in a dark suit. The expression on his face is unreadable, but I know he’s only looking out for us and the family as a whole.

My gaze is fixed on the entrance to the garden, waiting.

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