Oath of Obedience (Deviant Doms 2)

I turn my back on her and walk away.

“We can’t leave. You know that, and so do I. And even if I could, I don’t want to.”

She nods sadly and rests her fingers in her lap.

“But we can leave this room. You may be my prisoner, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have some freedom within the confines of our home.” I’ll have guards at every door, and I won’t let her out of my sight. “Get dressed and we’ll go to the library.”

She blinks in surprise before she leaps to her feet and hurries to dress. I watch her tug on leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, my heart aching. I love watching her dress. I love her simplicity and wholesomeness. Even now, her excitement over heading to the library makes me want to hold her to me and kiss her cheeks until she blushes.

Guards flank us on either side as we head downstairs. Romeo is talking with Tavi in the Great Hall. They pause their conversation as he notices us but it’s barely noticeable, and he quickly nods his head before talking again. He trusts me. I won’t forget that.

“Ah, Angelina!” Rosa meets us at the dining room. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She reaches for her hand and clasps it with both of hers before she tugs her in to kiss each cheek.

“Thank you,” Angelina says. “And you must be Rosa.”

Rosa, my eldest sister, as always is dressed as if ready for a runway, complete with stiletto heels and a form-fitting dress that was likely custom-made. The scent of decadent perfume enrobes us, cloaking her like a veil.

“Natalia speaks so highly of you,” she says. “And congratulations! I am so excited for you and Orlando.”

I’m losing my patience, my voice a low growl. “Rosa.”

“I know, I know.” She waves her hand at me. “I’ve heard what Romeo said. I was at dinner when he filled us all in. But don’t take this away from me, Orlando. I gained a sister when you married, whether she is who she was supposed to be or not.”

As she turns to leave, Marialena comes downstairs.

“Ah, there she is, and there’s her prison warden.” Her words are laced with venom as she stabs her finger at me. “I don’t know who you guys think you are with your swagger, like you know everything there is to know and you’re the god Zeus himself.”

“Marialena, enough.”

She opens her mouth then clamps it shut again, as if thinking better of what she was about to say. She silently fumes, then shakes her head.

“No. No, Orlando, this is wrong. So she isn’t Elise Regazza, and thank God because that girl is boring as fuck compared to Angelina.”

“Hey!” Angelina protests but her eyes are shining. “That’s not fair.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like Elise, just that you’re way better,” Marialena says, waving her hand as if to dismiss Angelina. “She’s got your baby in her, so obviously, you know, ew, but still. You’ve gone there.”

“Marialena, for the love of God—”

“What’s going on over here?” Romeo strolls casually over, his hands in his pockets. “Is there a problem?”

“I think you men are archaic idiots,” Marilena snaps. “To hold a woman prisoner. Who is having his child. After she gave her entire life for her friend? Ha!” she scoffs. Her furious eyes swing to mine. “You know what? You don’t deserve a woman like her. Uh uh. You want a brainless idiot like those Campanelles marry? Hmm? You could’ve had your pick of them. How many women are willing and able to give you a pretty little virgin pussy in exchange for being a mafia princess? Brainless idiots, that’s who.”

Even Rosa gasps. My father would’ve slapped her face right in front of everyone before he dragged her upstairs and exiled her to her room for a month.

But Romeo is not my father. “Do you think Vittoria a brainless idiot?” he asks mildly, a tone that we all know spells danger.

“Of course not,” she says. “But if you think, for one minute, that I’m going to stay here and allow you men to treat her this way, you’re wrong.” She shakes with the intensity of her anger, vibrating with it while everyone, including staff, watches. A door opens at the top of the stairs and Santo stands scowling, his hands in his pockets. Rosa looks up at him, then back to Marialena.

“You know better than this,” I scold her, shocked at her audacity. She knows how we function. She knows our rules. Unlike Angelina, she’s been raised to respect our family from the cradle.

“Ah, I know you won’t,” Romeo says, leaning up against the banister. “You made that clear, didn’t you?”

Everyone stands silent. We’ve accepted Romeo as Don from the moment he took my father’s place. He makes difficult decisions, but decisions we respect nonetheless. We’ve never seen his authority questioned so boldly. I want to shake Marialena for it.