Oath of Fidelity (Deviant Doms 3)

I’m used to it, though.

I didn’t mean anything to my father or mother. You get used to lowered expectations after a while. Piero, however…

I shove the memory away, stuff it into a box, and slam the lid shut. I won’t raise those ghosts, not now.

I blink away tears and turn my head so he doesn’t see. Instead, I try to observe our surroundings and add it to the mental map I have of The Castle.

My feet are noiseless on the carpeted stairs, like muffled hiccups. Each step brings me closer to whatever it is he’ll make me face.

The second floor is home to the private rooms, elegantly outfitted with thick, luxurious carpet. Everything’s immaculate and stunning, like a mansion centerfold in a home and garden magazine. The smell of spring flowers lingers in the air. At the landing, I see why—a huge vase overflowing with flowers sits on a gleaming tabletop.

When I catch a glimpse of his face, I’m not surprised he looks impassive. He holds his temper better than most men I’ve known. I wonder if it’s because Tavi’s so angry all the time, it’s almost his default. He rarely smiles, and when his family’s gathered together, he’s the quietest of the bunch.

“Where are we going?” I ask, not because I really care, but because I don’t like the silence.

“Quiet.”

Well, that was super effective.

I wonder where everyone is. It’s so still here. Is anyone else home?

They must be. I know Angelina and Orlando are spending the night before traveling back to Boston, his sisters Marialena and Rosa are here, and Romeo and Vittoria as well. Tosca and Nonna have their own rooms somewhere, and staff resides on the first floor. But it’s silent here, like a church when everyone’s gone home. I hear nothing but the gentle ticking of a clock somewhere on another floor.

At the top of the stairs, I get a view of the ground floor, and my heart leaps with excitement. I can see the entryway, the reception room, a hallway that leads away from the main entrance to another part of the house I’ve never seen before. Someday, I’ll be more than a prisoner here, and I’ll explore every inch of this magnificent castle. Even though I didn’t choose to be here, I’ve always harbored a few romantic notions, and a little part of me now can’t help but imagine I’m Beauty, locked in the Beast’s chambers to pay her due, but soon I’ll be mistress of this castle.

My imagination never did help me. It only ever got me in trouble.

I grew up with a father who had a furious temper, so Tavi’s anger doesn’t worry me… that much. I suppose the unpredictable nature is what unnerves me more than anything, but I’m still determined to make the most of this.

I’m going to be his wife. He can’t hurt me too bad. I mean, the others all seem pretty happy here? No one smiles as much as Marialena, unless it’s Mario. The two of them are like rays of sunshine wherever they go.

Surely Tavi inherited some of that warmth and light.

Maybe?

“Those flowers are gorgeous,” I murmur to myself. In an instant, I’m pressed to the wall in front of me. His hand is at my throat, trapping me in, my whole body caged by his as if I’ve flicked a switch and brought on his wrath.

“I told you to be quiet,” he says.

Oh. Right.

I draw in a deep breath, reluctantly inhaling his clean, masculine scent. My pulse races against his fingers. His rough hand gives me an inexplicable sense of protection, which makes no sense at all because he’s basically threatening me. And yet… it does. Maybe it’s because I can feel the restraint in his grip. A girl could get lost in his embrace.

I blink hard and force myself to smile. “You did, didn’t you?”

I watch as his dark blue eyes narrow on me. Slowly, he shakes his head from side to side.

“I thought a woman raised Regazza would know better.”

Jerk. My own anger fizzes and boils, threatening to explode. “Know better about what?”

He shakes his head from side to side. Caged in his grip, I take the opportunity to look at him. Really look at him.

He’s tall like all of them, much larger than I am. While not quite as big as Orlando, Tavi’s features are rougher, sterner. He’s ruggedly handsome with the shadow of a beard on his square jaw, full lips cast downward in a perpetual frown, and not a trace of humor in the glacial blue of his eyes. It isn’t his classically sexy Italian looks that get my attention, though. No, any handsome man from Italy knows the art of seduction from the cradle, but this guy… there’s something almost regal about him, something almost cruel that should terrify me, but it doesn’t. I’m intrigued.