Page 61 of Dangerous Vows

Niccolò, upon hearing us, states, “Before you get carried away, remember we had twins.” He chuckles.

I didn’t realize he overheard us. To me, the Borrelli family is loving and oddly normal. This mansion isn't just a structure of stone and opulence—it's a sanctuary. A place where the wordhomecarries weight, and it’s stitched into every corner like an unspoken promise.

The walls echo with banter, the kind that only comes from souls who know each other down to the bone—all their quirks and deepest desires. Laughter spills like sunlight through elaborate curtains. It’s effortless and unrestrained. It’s not light is not from the marble fireplace that glows, or the sparkling chandeliers, but from the people who warm the halls.

They argue. They tease. They protect.

And in between it all… There is love. Fierce, messy, undeniable love—the kind that doesn’t flinch when the world outside turns cold.

This place… thisfamily... It’s more than bricks and blood.

It’s everything.

And I long to be a part of it.

But it’s not meant to be my world. Life is cruel for me to get a glimpse of the perfect life before I submit to my father’s demands. It’s just not fair.

None of this is fair. But I find solace in the fact that I’ll spare Pietro’s life, even if it costs me mine.

Matteo sets the tone for the family, and even though I know he’s a dangerous man, one wouldn’t know it by how he interacts with his family. This home is a testament to that. It’s a haven where they come together regardless of what might be happening in the dark world beyond its walls.

I observe Matteo as he looks at his wife. There’s so much love in his eyes that I avert my eyes because I feel I’m an intruder. I turn to Pietro, and he’s looking at me the same way, like I’m his. And it takes all my willpower to hold back tears.

They accepted me and welcomed me with open arms. No one mentions my father, and no one is judging me. This is the life I wanted for myself, but that’s not going to happen. Today is the only day I have with them.

I’m relieved when dinner is announced, as the endearing family moments overwhelm me. We gather around a huge family table. Matteo uncorks champagne. But that’s not all, the middle of the table is punctuated with numerous bottles of wine that cost a fortune.

The long dinner table is a place where the family continues tobanter, and the camaraderie between the siblings is evident in the way they nudge each other and make jokes at each other’s expense.

The platter of rosemary lamb circles, and I pile my plates with roasted lamb, cornbread stuffing, and mashed potatoes. The side salad mocks me. I plan to save room for the warm apple pie that sits on the buffet table.

Matteo says grace, and we all dig in, and if the day couldn’t get any better, Federico joins us. He’s not just a hired butler and chef, he’s family.

After dessert, everyone retires to the solarium where Grappa and Frangelico are served.

By evening, my belly is full and I’m exhausted. There were so many warm moments that warmed my heart in ways I couldn’t have imagined. I’m happy but tired, and I lean my head against Pietro on the way home and drift into a peaceful slumber.

PIETRO

THE EDGE OF RUIN

Amara rarely asks for anything, so when she tells me she wants to visit her grandmother, I clear my schedule without a second thought.

The drive is quiet, but I feel her anticipation, and it’s spurred on by the way her fingers fidget in her lap as she stares out the window. She asks that we stop at a popular candy store on the way. We walk in and she grabs a small bag and fills it with butterscotch hard candies, thoughtfully rolling one between her fingers. When she’s finished, we check out, and I pay before she can reach her wallet.

She’s dressed in a dark blue cowl-neck sweater dress that hugs her curves and makes her eyes stand out. With her long, thick hair and a full-length flared wool coat that flows effortlessly behind her, she looks like a model, though slightly overdressed for the store.

“She loves these,” she murmurs, more to herself than to me.

I glance at her. “When was the last time you saw her?”

She sighs. “Too long.”

“Then let’s fix that.” I nod to Joseph as we enter the vehicle, and he begins to drive.

When we pull up to the small condo building, she’s the first one out of the car. We leave Joseph behind as I follow her up the stairs to thesecond floor, and the moment the door swings open, I understand why she was so eager.

I’m just in time to see Grandmother Rossi step forward. She’s a small woman with her gray hair pulled back neatly in a bun. Her wistful, wise blue eyes light up the second they land on Amara.

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