Page 34 of Possessive Vows

Giorgio offers introductions, but no one needs them. Everyone in the room is aware of who each other is and why we’re here.

Fiero motions for me to sit on the loveseat opposite the couch, so I settle onto the cushions and lean back in the least threatening yet alert pose possible.

Camilla returns the infant to its mother and startles as though she didn’t realize she was in the middle of a circle of people. The boy, who looks like a miniature version of Aurora, Giorgio’s wife, hops up and circles around the table to stay as close to the baby as possible.

Aurora Achilles, the oldest child of another New York City founding mafia family, smiles at him as she rises, but she closes her expression off as she notices me. She moves to the other side of the coffee table.

“Other than water and juice for the new mama—which is mandatory, so don’t argue, Serenity—does anyone else want a beverage?”

I decline and watch in approval as the boy—Tristan, Aurora’s younger brother and heir to both the Achilles and Vivaldi kingdoms—pulls himself away from the infant without prompting to help his sister. He scowls when he notices me. I stare back without response. He huffs and starts up the stairs after Aurora.

To my surprise, Camilla rises and joins me on the loveseat. Even though she sits as far as the armrest allows, her choice fills me with pride and awe.

“What happened with Mama, Camilla?” Giorgio demands.

Camilla thought her brother would begin with the ‘basic’ questions, as she called them last night, but he skips them in favor of grilling her since he most likely found all the answers over the last few hours.

Serenity gasps and glares at Camilla, but she isn’t pointing her anger at my future wife.

“Mama didn’t go to the facility, did she? We’ve tried so hard to keep her away from you,” she exclaims.

“No, we ran into her in town by accident,” Camilla says.

She tugs at her sleeve. I wish I had followed my first reaction and sunk my knife into her mother’s throat.

“What did she do?” Serenity demands.

Camilla shakes her head but says, “She wanted me to marry Tomasso Bonnetti, but I told her I was already married to Dimitri.”

Silence falls over the room. Camilla smooths her hand over her hair. She glances at me but not for help, so I let her handle her family how she sees best.

“No, we’re not married yet,” she continues, answering everyone’s biggest question, “but we will be soon.”

“But why? You just met him yesterday,” Serenity says.

Loretta, Ermanno’s wife, shrugs and elbows her husband as she says, “It just happens that way sometimes. There’s no explaining it.”

Camilla shakes her head again and says, “No, it’s not like that. I just… I trust him. He proposed yesterday, but I said no and he said the offer would always stand, so today when he stopped Mama from… when he protected me from her, I used him as a shield.”

No one speaks as Aurora returns—sans her brother—and hands out the drinks.

“So when’s the wedding?” Aurora asks.

The kitchen must be close if she heard the entire discussion.

“There won’t be one. They aren’t getting married,” Giorgio says.

Camilla’s sharp inhale lifts the hair on my nape. I lean deeper into the couch and prepare for another epic display like in the jewelry store.

Watchingmoya so´lnyshkagrow bolder is truly enchanting.

“You don’t get to make that decision, Giorgio.”

Despite her soft tone, the note of steel underneath fills me with pride.

Giorgio’s eyes widen. Serenity passes her daughter to Nico and leans forward as though to stand. Camilla closes her hands into fists in her lap and stops her sister witha look.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop our parents from forcing you both into marriage, and I know you’re trying to protect me, but this is my life. My future. My choice.” Her voice trembles. She takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders. I can’t look away from her magnificence. “As a survivor who once hadeverychoice stripped away from her and who thought she wasn’t worthy of making decisions ever again, I can’t express how big this is for me, so just listen and accept what I say.” Without an ounce of pleading in her tone, she reaches over and rests her fingers on the back of my hand. “I choose Dimitri Volkov as my husband. No one else. Ever.”

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