Page 11 of Cruelest Vow

“She did, but she’s on the mend and the family is fine. However, my life is about to crash and burn.” My poor mother was suffering from being in a marriage that nearly drove her to insanity. I glanced around the massive location and sighed. Trying to ease the tension was nearly impossible. I was twenty-eight years old, for God’s sake. Why would I consider for a second marrying a brutal thug like Antonio Romano? I wasn’t certain he’d learned to use silverware instead of his fingers to eat given how barbaric he was.

“Uh-oh. I feel a story coming on,” Marla chuckled.

My heart hadn’t stopped racing since the call. I wasn’t known for my patience and tonight I was ready to jump out of my skin. “Where is that drink?”

“Honey, this isn’t like you,” Joy said, glancing at Marla as she lifted her eyebrows. “Bad day in the world of a billion-dollar operation? Lose a few precious gems?”

They liked to tease me about the lucrative company my father had tasked me to run. The once barely profitable gemstone business I’d been tasked at saving had turned itself around, now worth millions. Somehow, I had a feeling my younger brother would be allowed to slip into my shoes when I was forced to become barefoot and pregnant. “Not nearly as bad as learning my father arranged for me to be married in one month.”

“What?” Marla’s eyes opened wide.

“Oh, yeah.” Finally, the drink arrived, and I snapped my fingers of one hand around the specialty glass, holding up a single finger from the others. The waiter remained where he was as I gulped more than half the contents. “I’ll have another. Girls?”

“Whew,” Marla huffed. “It’s going to be one of those stories. Make it a round.”

“Comin’ up,” the waiter growled.

“What do you mean your father arranged your marriage? We aren’t in the dark ages,” Joy countered.

“According to my father we are. Things are different in Italy. My father is old school.” I’d yet to tell them much about my family’s background, although I suspected they had a general idea he was in control of a crime syndicate.

“That’s crazy. You’re an adult,” Marla insisted, shaking her head in disbelief.

I took another sip, closing my eyes briefly before rubbing my neck, the tension mounting. “Correct, but he sees me as his property. That’s one of the reasons I moved to New York.”

Joy offered a look of condolence. Great. She already figured out my chances of bucking the system was slim to nil. “What are you going to do?”

“Tonight, I’m going to drink heavily and pretend I’m not Lucia Lazarro. After that, I’m not certain.”

“Is the guy you’re supposed to marry handsome at least?” Marla asked the question as if I was already resigned to the idea.

“No, he’s an absolute pig who needs a bib when he eats.” At least my harsh comment brought laughter all the way around. “I have no clue what to do at this point. I loved my family, but I have on intentions of giving up my business.” Even though it wasn’t mine to begin with. I might be CEO, but he could easily have the board of directors turn against me. Oh, what a mess.

“I have an idea,” Joy threw in as the second round arrived.

“I’m all ears.”

“First, take a look around this hoppin’ bar.”

Both Marla and I did as she requested. “So?”

“You’re so impatient,” she told me. “I think if you can find a suitable husband, you can do so inside this spectacular establishment.”

“I’m not following you.” I scanned the huge space, noticing at least a couple dozen good-looking men, but every one of them was far too polished. I bet even their Gucci Jordaan crocodile loafers squeaked. I wasn’t into pretty boys who spent more money on manicures than I did. Since I’d had a fancy manicure in my life, that should tell me something.

The only reason I’d dressed in a pencil-thin skirt and heels was my prospective client had been a womanizing asshole and I used my sex appeal to win him over. That made me want to vomit a little bit inside my mouth at the moment.

“It’s simple. You’re a powerful woman with a lot of money. Find a sexy dude and make an arrangement of your own.”

I sat back in my seat, crossing my legs as Marla choked on her drink. “Let me get this straight. I pay some guy to marry me to get out of marrying the beast back home.”

“Exactly,” Joy said as she lifted her glass. “I’m not saying you need to fuck him or anything, but why not find one who’ll be… full service?” Her grin was wider than normal.

At first, I was incensed. Then I saw brilliance to her madness.

“I like the idea,” I told her, lifting my glass as well. “A toast to independence.”

“To independence,” Marla said. “And to hot men.”

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