Savage Vow E-Book

Willow Fox

• Herausgeber: Slow Burn Publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

I’m ordered to execute her…
I never expected to see her again.
We shared one wild night several years ago.
She had no idea that I work for the mafia.

I’m a savage, ruthless killer, but she’s innocent.
She saves lives.
I take them.
She’s a pediatric oncology nurse.
Could she be any more of a saint?
She entered the wrong hotel room.
There can’t be any witnesses.
My boss wants her dead.
Her life is in my hands.
I intend to make her my wife to protect her.
She’ll hate me but at least I can keep her safe.

This secret mafia baby romance features an arranged marriage and is the third book in the Mafia Marriages series. This book is a standalone and ends with a happily ever after.

Leseprobe

SAVAGE VOW

MAFIA MARRIAGES BOOK THREE

WILLOW FOX

Savage Vow

Mafia Marriages Book Three

Willow Fox

Published by Slow Burn Publishing

Cover Design by MiblArt

V2

© 2021

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

CONTENTS

About this Book

Mailing List

1. Karina

2. Karina

3. Aurielo

4. Karina

5. Aurielo

6. Karina

7. Aurielo

8. Karina

9. Aurielo

10. Karina

11. Aurielo

12. Karina

13. Aurielo

14. Karina

15. Aurielo

16. Karina

17. Aurielo

18. Karina

19. Aurielo

20. Karina

21. Aurielo

22. Karina

23. Aurielo

24. Karina

25. Aurielo

26. Aurielo

27. Karina

28. Karina

29. Aurielo

30. Karina

31. Aurielo

32. Karina

33. Aurielo

34. Karina

35. Aurielo

36. Karina

37. Aurielo

38. Karina

39. Aurielo

40. Karina

41. Aurielo

42. Karina

Epilogue

Giveaways, Free Books, and More Goodies

About the Author

Also by Willow Fox

ABOUT THIS BOOK

Savage Vow

(Mafia Marriages Book Three)

I’m ordered to execute her…

I never expected to see her again.

We shared one wild night several years ago.

She had no idea that I work for the mafia.

I’m a savage, ruthless killer, but she’s innocent.

She saves lives.

I take them.

She’s a pediatric oncology nurse.

Could she be any more of a saint?

She entered the wrong hotel room.

There can’t be any witnesses.

My boss wants her dead.

Her life is in my hands.

I intend to make her my wife to protect her.

She’ll hate me but at least I can keep her safe.

This secret mafia baby romance features an arranged marriage and is the third book in the Mafia Marriages series. This book can be read as a standalone and ends with a happily ever after.

MAILING LIST

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Sign up for my Willow Fox newsletter

1

KARINA

“Should we really be breaking and entering?” I ask.

My sister, Ivy, is a professional when it comes to party crashing.

I prefer a low-key and simple life. I’ve never been much of a party girl, but somehow, tonight she’s convinced me to join her for a little fun.

“It’s not breaking and entering when they leave the door wide open,” she touts.

Ivy isn’t wrong.

The door is wide open. So is the gate to the prestigious mansion.

But my stomach is tangled in knots.

This is a bad idea.

The worst imaginable, but I follow her.

The girl is trouble, and if she weren’t my identical twin and my best friend, I’d have probably ditched her ass years ago.

Funny, being a twin doesn’t mean we are anything alike. Sure, we have the same face, great body, and smile, but Ivy is the wild child—I’m the reserved one.

We saunter in through the open door.

The guard standing at the main entrance clears his throat, and with a thick Italian accent asks, “Name?”

The gentleman is wearing a fancy suit and has thick, dark hair atop his head. He’s big, like football player size, and could easily toss us out or have us arrested if we aren’t careful in what we say.

I open my mouth, but Ivy steps in first.

“You don’t know who we are?” She steps closer to the guard, her hand falling to his chest, her finger gliding down his blazer toward his belt. “Zola and Etta Bianchi,” Ivy says. She rattles the names off with a confidence that I could never muster.

Ivy must have seen the guest list when flirting with the guard.

I’m trying not to vomit.

There’s something about this man that sends a shudder down my spine. We should leave before we end up dead.

His eyes tighten, and he gestures for us to step inside.

She waves to the guard and grabs my arm, tugging me inside to follow.

The house is extravagant. No wonder it’s gated with guards. Because of the party, they must have left the gate wide open. The guest list looked extensive.

The music is pounding, and it makes my heart race as Ivy drags me farther into the house. “Are you sure about this?” I ask.

Most of the men are in business suits and aren’t speaking English. It’s like we stepped into another world, a foreign country, through the front door.

There are women in fancy, sparkling gowns with their hair done up for the occasion. There’s no sign of what the party is for. I see no indication of a bride and groom. There are no birthday balloons or banners, although that would seem rather tactless for a function of this magnitude.

It’s like a prestigious ball and we’re halfway across the ocean. What is the occasion?

The chandelier glistens in the ballroom, and a live band is performing for the guests.

Several women in emerald gowns are walking around with trays of champagne. I grab a flute and down it rather quickly.

The taste is exquisite. Sweet and bubbly, and it tickles my tongue. It’s honestly the best sparkling wine I’ve ever tasted.

Ivy untangles from my arm, and I want to grab her and ask her where the hell she’s going when she gives me a reassuring smile. “Relax. Have fun. Drink, dance, make the most of your night off work. You deserve it.”

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“I’m going to see if I can find me a hot guy. You should do the same. There are plenty of hotties at the party. Most of them are older too. Yum!”

“Okay,” I say. I don’t feel the least bit all right or comfortable picking up a random stranger. I’ve never been a girl to do a one-night stand. But my life isn’t exactly conducive to having a relationship, either.

I work a lot, including overtime.

The last boyfriend complained that I didn’t spend enough time with him and focused too much on my career. He was four years younger and acted like he just graduated high school.

Exhaling a heavy sigh, I’m glad that Ivy at least convinced me to dress up for tonight. I wasn’t sure the party was that extravagant, but I barely fit in with my long black dress with spaghetti straps.

My outfit is simple but elegant. Hopefully, I don’t stand out.

I grab another flute of champagne as a woman wanders by, and I accidentally bump into a gentleman behind me.

“I’m sorry.” I’m quick to apologize, and it hasn’t helped that I’ve spilled the flute on my gown.

“It’s no trouble,” he says. He excuses himself from them and grabs a handkerchief from his coat pocket, offering it to me.

“Thank you,” I say, dabbing at the spilled remnants of my drink on my wrist and gown. Most of the liquid beads up against my dress, making it easy to clean.

After I finish wiping up my mess, I return his handkerchief to him.

“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Aurielo,” he says and holds out his hand.

He’s handsome, but there’s a dangerousness that exudes from his cool exterior. It’s probably because he could have me arrested for crashing the party.

Aurielo is several inches taller than I am, his hair short but thick and dark. His eyes are a deep brown with flecks of amber and gold.

One glance at him and he’s stolen my breath.

I can’t help but wonder what’s beneath his suit. He stands tall, thick, muscular.

He’s better looking than any guy I’ve ever dated, not that it matters.

“Etta Bianchi,” I lie, giving the name of the guest that we used to sneak into the party. I offer him my hand, expecting him to shake it. Instead, he brings it to his lips.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Etta.” His eyes twinkle as he stares right through me.

The gesture makes me giddy. Maybe it’s the champagne that I’ve had too.

No man has ever paid that type of attention to me. I smile, certain that I’m blushing. The room is several degrees warmer, and one glance past Aurielo and I catch sight of Ivy dancing with another gentleman who is practically twice her age.

Ivy gives me a thumbs-up sign, pleased that I’m mingling.

Goodness, could she be any less obvious?

Thankfully, his back is to her.

“Did you come with a date?” Aurielo asks.

“No,” I say. My sister doesn’t count. I’m not sure what he’s getting at. “Why?”

“Dance with me.” He doesn’t wait for my answer.

He’s not asking.

He’s demanding.

He grabs my hand and leads me onto the dance floor.

There’s something in the way he carries himself that I find highly attractive, like he knows what he wants and goes for it.

He’s not a boy. He’s every bit a man.

Aurielo pulls me close as we dance, his hand pressed against the small of my back. His breath tickles my ear when he asks, “What’s your real name?”

An unmistakable shiver courses through my body.

“How did you—”

I don’t finish my sentence. I want to pull away, run, and make sure Ivy isn’t in trouble, but he doesn’t let me go. His hold is strong and firm.

“Etta is my ex-girlfriend. You’re definitely not that witch,” he says with a smirk. “What’s your real name?”

“Karina,” I whisper as my gaze falls downward.

Shame burns me inside for lying to the stranger. And more so because he saw right through the facade.

He keeps one hand pressed to my back, and the other he lifts my chin to meet his stern gaze. “Micetta, do not be embarrassed.”

Before I have time to react to his words, his mouth descends onto mine. His hold around me tightens as the kiss deepens.

His touch has stoked a fire burning inside me that he started. He backs me up several feet until I feel the wall at my back.

Aurielo presses himself against me, and his leg pushes up between my thighs, giving me the perfect amount of friction to drive me insane.

Warmth floods through my body.

We shouldn’t be doing this. Certainly not in a room full of people.

While I may never see any of them again, doesn’t he care what they think?

Music continues to blare through the room, but my mind is in a haze as he ravishes my neck. “Aurielo,” I whisper.

He lifts me, my legs wrap around him, and he carries me around the corner and down the hallway. He opens a nearby door and shuts it forcefully, pushing me up against the door.

We’re alone.

Just the two of us.

He puts my feet back down on the ground. His hands guide the hem of my dress higher, inch by inch. His touch is rough and commanding, a man on a mission.

Aurielo’s eyes bore into mine. “Tell me you want this, Micetta.” My dress is already hiked up to my waist.

His fingers tease the hem of my black lace panties.

I don’t want him to stop.

“Micetta?” He whispers against my neck and pulls back to meet my stare.

“Yes,” I rasp, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

He smiles, pleased with my declaration.

“Good girl.” He kneels before me and spreads my legs farther apart, inhaling my scent. “Bellissima,” he says, his voice rough and his hands firm.

He rips my panties right off, and I gasp, surprised by his action and the dominance he wields.

“You’re already wet for me.”

I slam my eyes shut and revel in the way he makes me feel, the power that he exudes.

His tongue teases and flicks against my pearl. Two fingers caress my entrance before slipping inside. His lips move up my stomach, pushing my gown higher with one hand while the other strokes my insides.

“You’re so tight, Micetta,” he warns. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

I gasp at his words, his touch, the fact it’s been months since I’ve been with a man. And to be honest, it wasn’t anything like this.

He unzips the back of my dress. His fingers slide out, and I whimper in protest.

The smile on his face reassures all concern that I’ve felt. “Come here, Micetta,” he says. Aurielo grabs me by the hips and pulls me across the room.

It’s an office, and there are papers strewn across the wooden desk. He pushes them to the floor and backs me up against the desk, shaking his head. “I have a better idea,” he whispers and guides me around to face the desk.

“Aurielo?” I gasp, naked.

What if someone strolls into the office and finds us in here?

Was there a lock on the door? I didn’t notice him locking us in the room.

He bends me over the desk, pressing his hand on my back, my breasts flush with the desk. “What are you—” I begin to ask, but I hear the click of his belt buckle, and then his zipper follows suit.

In one swift motion, he enters me. I gasp and moan. He’s big.

Huge.

I gasp as pain and pleasure mix. He’s stretching my insides to accommodate him.

He keeps me bent over the table. My body is pressed tightly against the wood as he drives his shaft into me, each thrust bringing me closer to the brink.

I’ve never been fucked, not like this.

It’s raw.

Primal.

And yet still passionate.

My heart races, and my insides clench around him as I begin to tremble.

I gasp and moan, squeezing him, my insides pulsating as an orgasm rips through me.

Aurielo holds on a few seconds longer, grunting, exploding inside of me.

There’s a sharp knock on the door. “Aurielo,” a man shouts over the music and pounds again on the door.

He’s persistent.

Aurielo fixes his slacks and grabs my panties. “These are mine,” he says, shoving them into his pocket.

My insides warm at his words, but at the same time, I can’t help but worry that someone might discover I’m not wearing any panties. I pull on my dress, and he yanks the door open just as I tug the zipper up.

He doesn’t hide the fact that he was with me to the gentleman waiting for him in the hallway.

There’s no kiss goodbye.

No exchange of phone numbers or pleasantries.

Aurielo strolls out, and the dark-haired Italian gentleman slaps him on the back, congratulating him.

“Look at you, my brother, getting laid at Nico’s engagement party.”

I try to sneak out as best I can from the office, but I hear the two men conversing. As I pull the wooden door farther open, it squeaks on its hinges.

“Giovan, chill out.” Aurielo casts a glance at me. He gives me a half-cocked smile and nod before dragging his brother in the opposite direction.

I hurry down the hallway and back to the ballroom. It’s not a far distance, but my heels tap against the marble floor. There’s an elegance to the home that we’re in, the kind of place that’s rented out for weddings and special occasions. Except, this isn’t a mansion that’s rented out.

It’s owned by someone wealthy. I’m just not sure who or what they do for a living.

Stepping into the ballroom, the music crescendos, and I glance through the throes of partygoers searching for my sister.

Ivy’s dark purple gown and yellow trim stand out amongst the crowd. While we are identical twins, we haven’t worn the same matching outfit since preschool, when Mom dressed us alike.

I grab another drink from a waitress bringing a round of champagne to the guests. Smoothing down my dress, I feel as though everyone in the room is watching me.

I’m probably overly concerned for no reason.

It’s not like they can see that I’m not wearing any panties.

“Ma’am,” a gentleman in a dark suit with an earpiece in his ear approaches me. He conveys the look of a guard, but he’s not the same gentleman who watched the front entrance.

I press my lips tight together and glance behind me at Ivy. She untangles from the man she’s dancing with, but she’s cautious about hurrying over toward me.

Does she know something that I don’t?

The guard grabs my arm, his grip strong and forceful. “Please, come with me,” he says, but his tone isn’t the least bit warm or friendly. He’s demanding I do what he wants.

I glance once more over my shoulder at Ivy, but she’s nowhere in sight.

Did she leave?

Flee?

Is she coming to help me?

“Let go of me,” I say and yank my arm from his grasp.

“What are you—”

Before he can finish his sentence, I untangle from his grip and rush through the crowd, back down the hallway that I came from just a few minutes earlier.

The guard’s footsteps are thick and heavy as he tromps through the hallway after me.

I should head for the exit, but I’m not sure which way leads out. I sprint down the corridor and whip around the corner to run straight into Aurielo’s chest.

Aurielo grabs my forearms to steady me. “Slow down there, Micetta,” he says.

I glance over my shoulder, gasping for breath. How do I explain that one of the guards is chasing me?

I suspect it’s because we snuck into the party, but I’m not entirely one hundred percent confident that’s the answer. He seems pissed, and I can’t believe it’s just because we crashed an engagement party.

“Hold up!” the guard warns as he manages to catch up with me.

Crap.

I glance past Aurielo’s shoulder.

Can I make a dash for the door and make it out?

It’s about twenty feet behind him.

It’s not the front entrance, but I’ll happily take any exit that will keep me from ending up arrested for trespassing.

My job has a zero-tolerance policy for breaking the law.

“What’s the problem?” Aurielo asks.

I glance up at him. Will he hand me over when he discovers that I wasn’t invited?

“Sir, she’s not Etta Bianchi.”

Aurielo’s hold refuses to loosen, his grip tighter than ever.

“You think I don’t know that already, Francesco?” Aurielo asks. “Get back to your post. She’s with me.”

Francesco huffs under his breath and turns on his heel, retreating down the hallway.

“Thank you,” I say, relieved that he came to my defense.

Aurielo pulls me silently down the hallway for the door.

He doesn’t look at me. His jaw is firm, his shoulders square. There’s something he isn’t saying. Aurielo unlocks the four deadbolts and grabs the door handle, pulling it wide open.

It seems a bit like overkill, having four deadbolts. Who are these people?

“You need to leave.”

2

KARINA

Six Years Later

Everything about the hotel shouts expensive, from the crystal chandelier near the reception desk to the piano player enveloping the room in a warm array of tunes.

My sister has planned the entire night for me as a gift.

Ivy insisted that I take a vacation from my life and responsibilities for one night. On her dime, I was to be thoroughly pampered, with full luxuries of the spa, room service, and anything else that I want.

Ivy is the most thoughtful, sensitive, and protective sister I know, for a girl with a wild party side in her younger days. She’s also an amazing aunt to Ashton, my son.

The woman behind the desk hands me the room key and jots down the suite number before giving me directions to the elevator.

I didn’t bring much, just an overnight bag and my purse.

The hotel is considerably crowded for early fall.

Maybe there’s a convention happening in Chicago this weekend. I don’t have the slightest idea. My days are usually spent at work or looking after my little crime fighter, Ashton.

He wants to be a police officer when he gets older.

It’s cute, but the idea scares me. He’s five, and I’m hoping he’ll grow out of it.

I head into the elevator with a few other guests and glance down at the room number scribbled on the envelope for my key card.

I hit the button for the top floor and have to use my card to access the suite from the elevator.

Ivy booked the penthouse suite for me.

I can’t even fathom the cost, let alone how she managed to afford it on her measly salary. I love the girl, but she’s crazy. It’s not like I plan on spending my entire afternoon in the suite.

We stop on two floors before the elevator is empty, and I’m heading up to my suite. I lug my overnight bag over my shoulder and step out into the hallway.

There’s only one set of double doors and a black electronic card reader. I swipe my room card, and the lock clicks.

Grabbing the silver handle, I open the door and step inside the suite.

The door slams shut behind me.

The room is enormous, with picturesque windows from floor to ceiling. The curtains are pulled back to reveal the city down below.

I place my bag on the nearby sofa and step around the furniture.

On the floor in front of the couch, is an oversized black duffel bag.

“Ivy?” I call out.

Did she decide to make a surprise visit with Ashton?

The bag is huge for an overnight adventure, but knowing my son, he’d insist on bringing every stuffed animal and truck in his toy box. Bending down, I unzip the duffel.

Male voices permeate the room through the walls.

Someone is in the bedroom, and by the sound of his voice, it’s not a young child or my sister.

My stomach flops.

Inside the sack, are dozens of semi-automatic weapons. What the hell did I stumble upon?

I step away from the duffel and grab my overnight satchel from the couch, pulling it over my shoulder.

I don’t bother re-zipping the bag. I need to get out before anyone notices my intrusion. I wasn’t exactly making myself quiet when I called out for my sister.

The bedroom door is thrown open, and two men with guns point their weapons at me.

“How did you get in here?” the shorter of the two asks. He’s got dark, greasy hair and the blackest eyes I’ve ever seen.

My voice catches in my throat as I try to speak.

“Speak up!” he demands. Stalking nearer to me, he closes the distance between us.

“The hotel must have given me the wrong key,” I say.

He’s blocking my escape out of the room, and with his gun trained on me, there’s nowhere else for me to go.

“We can’t have loose ends,” a bald gentleman says as he steps out of the bedroom, leaving the door wide open.

There’s a younger man with pale skin and copper hair tied to a wooden chair, bound and gagged. He struggles to move, his face bloody, hands bound presumably behind his back.

I walked in on someone being tortured.

The air is sucked right out of my lungs.

I’m going to be sick.

“Aurielo,” the bald man shouts.

That name is familiar. It must be a coincidence. Neither of the men with their guns pointed at me answer the bald man.

Aurielo steps out from the bedroom and shuts the door behind himself. There’s blood on his crisp white dress shirt and hands.

“Yes, Don Rinaldi,” Aurielo says.

My mouth is parched, my throat burns. Tears haven’t formed, but I already know what’s coming.

I never even had the chance to say goodbye to my son.

“Kill her,” Don Rinaldi says.

Aurielo’s jaw is firm and tight. He grabs me by the arm, opens the bedroom door, and drags me inside before slamming it shut.

The man tied to a chair is slumped forward. I can’t tell if he’s dead or not.

“Do you make it a habit of torturing and killing people in hotel rooms?” I shoot at Aurielo.

It’s him, the man I slept with, that wild night six years ago. To say that I never thought about him again, would be a lie.

One foolish night landed me pregnant, with a son nine months later. Up until this moment, I hadn’t ever fully regretted that decision because it brought me Ashton.

He exhales a heavy sigh through his nose. His piercing amber gaze sends a shiver down my spine as his eyes rake over my body.

“Do you make it a habit of breaking and entering?” he retorts.

3

AURIELO

It’s been what, six years since I’ve least laid eyes on the beauty who stole my heart and nearly got herself into a world of trouble for crashing a party at the compound.

Karina.

At least that was the name she gave me that night.

Was it real?

I have no idea.

I didn’t try to track her down. It was better that I let her go, escape, set her free, and never think about her again.

Was it fate putting us back on the same path? Bringing us together?

She shouldn’t be here, my Micetta.

“Do you make it a habit of breaking and entering?” I shoot at her remark about killing people in hotel rooms. She has no idea what she’s walked into and how dangerous the situation is for her.

She presses her perfect ruby lips together.

If she’s afraid of me, she doesn’t show it. I suspect she’s terrified but hiding her emotions well. Very few people don’t beg for their life when met with the moment of their demise.

“Not my fault the hotel gave me the wrong key,” she says.

She’s fiery and beautiful. Her looks are pale compared to the personality behind her calm exterior. She’s a firecracker. I can see it in those cool baby blues. “Karina,” I say, remembering her name from the night we were together.

“You.” she opens her mouth and quickly shuts it.

“What was that?” I ask and step closer, closing the distance between us. My hand goes to her throat. I could easily extinguish her life.

She gasps as I touch her, and my hold doesn’t tighten.

Choking her is the last thing I want to do to this woman.

Unless it involves foreplay.

“Are you going to kill me?” she whispers, staring up at me.

Challenging me.

I’ve been ordered to kill her by the mafia boss himself.

Defying an order is suicide. Killing her, I’m not sure that I could live with myself.

At least not yet.

There’s too much unfinished business.

I want to discover if she tastes as sweet as I remember and if her body molds perfectly against mine.

If she’s dead, I can’t do that.

My silence bewilders her.

Karina takes several steps backward and reaches behind herself. She yanks the lamp from the table and pulls the plug right out of the socket, wielding it like a sword.

“Stay back,” she shouts.

I smile, trying not to laugh. “My Micetta, do you really think you can hurt me?” She’s half my size, and while getting hit with a lamp would undoubtedly sting, I’m not concerned that she’s going to escape.

“Aurielo,” she warns. Her eyes are wide and feral.

“How far do you think you’ll get, Micetta?” I ask. She’s not thinking clearly. “Even if you incapacitate me, there are men outside that door with guns. They’ll shoot you before you make it to the front door.”

Her eyes flicker.

She knows I’m right.

But she doesn’t look defeated. “Then I’ll take you as a hostage,” she threatens.

It’s hard not to laugh at her brashness. She’s cute. The pet name I bestowed on Karina fits her even more perfectly than I could have dreamed.

“I have a better suggestion,” I say and gesture for her to put the lamp down. The last thing I want is for her to get hurt.

She doesn’t lower the lamp, but she does grab the cord with her left hand. Is she planning on strangling me?

“I’m listening.”

“Don Rinaldi isn’t going to let you leave alive.”

“How is that a better suggestion?” Karina scoffs before I can even finish what I intend to tell her. She circles me like I’m her prey.

The girl has no clue who she’s dealing with, the power I have, and how close she is to death. Killing her seems wrong, and not because of all the reasons one might consider. She’s gorgeous, perfect, all wrapped into one tight little body. Her death would be a real shame.

“Marry me,” I say.

She balks at my suggestion. “Marry you? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

It’s the only way that I can protect her.

“Alessandro Rinaldi is only going to let you leave one of two ways. Either as my bride or in a body bag.”

4

KARINA

It’d be a lie to say that I’d never thought about that party, seeing Aurielo again, or introducing him to his son.

But not like this.

“Alessandro Rinaldi, as in the head of the Rinaldi crime family? You work for the mafia?” I can’t hide the terror that forces me into a cold sweat.

I can never let him know that he has a son, that Ashton is his child.

“You will marry me, Karina, and I will protect you.” Aurielo steps closer toward me.

I keep a safe distance, as safe as I can, considering the circumstances. I’m practically walking in circles around a bloody guy slumped in a chair with Aurielo closing in on me.

Is the man bound to the chair dead?

I don’t see him breathing. I want to reach out, check his pulse, help the man, but I can’t do that while defending myself.

“I don’t need your protection,” I scoff.

Yeah, I could have used that the night we slept together.

But then Ashton wouldn’t have been born, and I love my son more than anything in the world. I’d lay my life on the line for him.

“If you want to live, you’ll marry me and become part of the Rinaldi family.”

I press my lips tight together.

I want to live. I want to see my little boy again, but marrying the monster standing just a few feet away, it’s the last thing I want to do.

He’s forcing me to marry him.

“And if I say no?”

“Then I’ll have to follow the don’s orders. I’m giving you an alternative to death.”

I’m not afraid of dying, but I am terrified that he’ll discover he has a son. Surely, my sister won’t know what happened, and if the savage watches my funeral, or worse, attends the event, I can’t protect Ashton if I’m dead.

5

AURIELO

“Stay here,” I command. “And don’t touch anything.”

I slip out of the door to have a word with Alessandro.

I may have convinced Karina to marry me, but now I have to convince the boss that this arrangement is favorable for all parties.

“Such a shame a pretty girl had to stumble into our room,” Alessandro says. He’s going through her bag that she dropped earlier.

I clear my throat and can’t help but stare as he shuffles through her belongings, tossing the contents onto the floor. Her black lace panties catch my attention.

Memories of the night we shared together with her pressed up against the office door and desk flood my mind.

“About that,” I say. “Might I make a suggestion?”

He drops the empty bag, seemingly disappointed. Did he think Karina was a spy or working with the Feds? If she was, we’d already be surrounded.

“She’s not dead yet?”

When I don’t confirm his suspicions, he sighs, and his gaze tightens. “Go on,” he says and gestures with his hand for me to continue. “There must be something you see in her that I don’t if you haven’t killed her yet.”

The truth is that I know very little about Karina other than her name, her scent, and the way I feel buried inside her body. None of those traits are going to convince Alessandro to keep her alive.

“You have my word that she won’t say anything to anyone.”

Alessandro folds his arms across his chest. “And what makes you think some two-bit girl is going to keep that kind of promise? The minute she leaves, she’ll run to the cops. Your reputation and freedom are on the line,” he says.

He isn’t wrong.

I’m covered in blood and not just figuratively.

“She’ll be just as dirty as the rest of us after I marry her and make her part of the Rinaldi family,” I say.

He snorts under his breath. “That I’d like to see,” Alessandro says. The corners of his lips quirk upward into a smirk. “I’m not convinced she won’t betray you or the family, but when she does, I’ll kill you both myself.”