Page 3 of His Vicious Vow
The girl in the mirror is pretty. She has a heart-shaped face with a small round chin, a wide mouth, and my nose is long and thin—a guy called it elegant. You can’t tell my mother is half-Filipino with my green eyes but people stare at me for a minute longer with my olive tone from Carlo. Clearly wondering what nationality I am. I’ve been called pretty, a few times even beautiful.
Stupidly, I thought it would be enough. But it wasn’t enough because I’m also short and fat. A size eighteen in a world full of size two and zeros. Guys wanted to fuck me. They loved my big tits and ass except they didn’t want to be seen with me.
Damn it, the tears are back. I climb into the tub. Fuck that’s hot. I turn on the cold water and sigh as it begins to move around in the large tub. This was my last chance to be normal, to decide my own fate. It’s coming. I feel it bearing down on me like a freight train, Carlo is going to marry me off.
It doesn’t matter I embarrass him. It doesn’t matter I’ve done the best I could to be the weirdo when he forces us to show up at la familia events to put on the appearance of a happy family. Now that Celia is getting married, he’s going to force someone to take me off his hands.
Celia is marrying the man of her dreams. And she’s being used to get more power and prestige for Carlo by marrying into the ridiculously wealthy and powerful Levin Bratva—the Russian mafia. Milos Levin is the head of it all and scares the fuck out of me. The darkness surrounding him is a palpable thing. Yet Celia loves him. And even if she doesn’t think he does, I’m almost positive he loves her too. As much as any mafia man could love. Men who had no problem killing and doing whatever it took to stay in power didn’t see the world the way the rest of us did.
This trip to see Ben in New York was my last-ditch attempt to take control of my life. I would tell him who I really was. He’d be freaked out, understandably, the daughter of the Don of the Outfit isn’t the dream girl most men had in mind. But he would hold me close and promise I didn’t have to go back to Chicago.
He loved me. We could make a life together here in New York, away from all of it. It would be a quick courthouse wedding. That’s okay, I would assure him, I didn’t care about a big wedding and flowers even if I was a little envious of Celia’s wedding plans. It didn’t really matter because as long as I had him the rest didn’t mean a thing. Or maybe on our ten year anniversary or something we could do it again, with all the flowers and big cake and…
At least I never got far enough to spend money on him and the life I hoped we would make. It was enough to make a new life far from Chicago. I don’t want to go. Leaving Celia was never a part of the plan. We would go somewhere she could have her vet practice. I would surprise her with the money for us to open it. I’d help with the paperwork. And we would be far away from Chicago and Mommy and Carlo.
They would get what they wanted all these years. Carlo didn’t give a shit about me or Celia and if my mother was honest with herself, her either. The years of his cutting words wash over me: I looked too Filipino, I was stupid like Celia but I didn’t even have the excuse of being dyslexic like her. It didn’t matter how pretty I was in the face I was too damn fat and needed to lose weight.
Why did he have to be right? Why couldn’t just this once he be wrong? Men didn’t want me, they wanted pussy. A guy would say anything to fuck a woman. And if she was as stupid as I was it wouldn’t take much.
If I was smart. I wouldn’t get on the plane back to Chicago tomorrow. I have my passport, money, and laptop, all I need. I could buy a ticket to the next plane out of the country and not look back. But I can’t do that. I owe it to Celia to be there for her. To support her and…honestly, selfishly, I want to be there for her wedding day. I want to see her happy before I go.
The edibles finally hit me. I get out of the bath. Grabbing a robe, I wrap it around me. On the bed, I place an order for way too much food from room service. Then I lay down on the bed, close my eyes, and float. I’m not here in a hotel room with all my dreams shattered around me. Here where I’m floating they can still happen. Here is safe. Here is where I want to be.
CHAPTER 2
Sandro
The buzzing of my phone sends it skittering across my bedside table. Yanking me from the restless sleep I slipped into—less than two hours ago. It’s Tony Sabatini, Luca’s father. Thank fuck, it’s been eighteen hours since I got the text from him that Luca was alive but it’s all he sent me. The only reason I hadn’t called to find out more was because I was dealing with the clean-up from the shoot-out between our men and Augusto’s. Thank fuck Valdez was covering it up as a training exercise for his company. Since our government depends on Valdez they didn’t press the issue.
“How is Luca?”
His sigh is heavy. “Augusto left him with more scars and took an eye. But he’s going to be okay.”
“Grazie a dio.” I mutter.
“Yes, thank god. I have other news.” Tony’s solemn words have me sitting up straighter. “Luca is staying in Chicago. You’re going to take over Vegas.”
It takes a minute for the words to compute. I don’t believe them. Luca leaving Vegas one hundred percent, me taking over—not for a minute. “Are you serious? Carlo is saying I can take over?”
“Let me and Dominic handle Carlo. Give us a minute. And before it’s over you’ll have the job.” He assures me.
I shake my head. “I want to believe it but Carlo…”
“I understand.” I was only made second because Tony and Dominic, his other son and underboss to Carlo urged it. “But I do have a question for you, how badly do you want it?”
“As badly as my next breath.” I don’t hesitate.
“Badly enough to get married?”
Fucking hell. It’s the argument Luca’s been dealing with for the last few years. Marriage meant stability, we appeared civilians, boring and safe. The secret to the longevity of the Outfit has been we don’t make waves. It’s an edict passed down, shoved down our throats for decades. Supposedly being single and being seen with beautiful women made waves.
“Sandro?” Tony yanks me out of my thoughts.
Marriage isn’t something I ever wanted to do. But I want Vegas more. “I’ll do it. Whatever it takes.”
“Good. Don’t tell anyone. This is you, me, Luca, and Dominic. Give us a few days. For now, Luca is simply healing in Chicago with me.”
“Yes, sir.” I exhale.