Cruel Vows

A flood or pure green jealousy coils through me as she gives the bartender the most alluring smile ever, setting her hand on the bar and leaning forward so his eyes are drawn to her cleavage.

My wife is playing a dangerous game. Dangerous for other people, rather than for her. It’s as if she’s trying to goad the beast inside of me to come out and play, even though I know I have to be on my best behavior at these kinds of events.

I march forward and wrap my arm around her back, grabbing her hip and pulling her into me. “What are you doing, dear?” My tone sounds tight even to my ears.

Her eyes dance with delight as she glances at me. “I was just talking with this lovely bartender. He’s going to get me a drink.”

I turn my attention to the guy, who can’t be much older than Paisley. He’s the fresh faced, handsome college type. “Then do your job and get my wife’s drink. And while you’re at it, I’ll have a scotch.”

He bows his head. “Of course, sir.”

At least the kid has some manners. “What do you think you are doing, princess?”

“Nothing,” she says, feigning innocence as she keeps her composure better than expected. “I’m merely ordering a drink and being friendly.”

“You should drop the friendly act when it comes to any man other than me.”

Her brow creases, and she tries to step back from me, but I hold her firmly. “You can’t be serious.”

My nostrils flare as I move my lips toward hers and murmur, “Deadly serious, this toy is on level four, but there are ten levels. Don’t make me max it out in punishment.”

She raises a brow. “I think all your edging has taught me to cope with increased stimulation without release, so don’t think I’ll obey you because of that.”

“Here are your drinks.” The bartender returns, breaking the tension between us as my wife smiles at him again, giving him a wink.

“Thank you.” Her eyes move down to his name tag. “Logan. I really appreciate it.” And then she turns away and walks from the bar without even glancing at me.

I groan as I grab my drink and chase after her like a fucking lost puppy. “Where do you think you are going?” I call.

“Anywhere away from you.”

I catch her in three strides and pull her back to face me. “Do I need a fucking leash, princess?”

She looks at me thoughtfully. “Could be useful. Then I could tie you up somewhere and get away from you.”

I grab her throat with my free hand and squeeze. “You know that’s not what I meant. Why are you pushing me?”

The delight in her eyes irritates me, but it also clues me in to her reason. She still believes there’s a way out for her. A light at the end of the tunnel when I get angry enough with her and kick her to the curb.

“Oh, princess. There’s no chance you are ever escaping me, no matter what bratty things you do in public or not.”

The light in her eyes diminishes and her brow furrows. “I wouldn’t be so sure. A year of this bullshit and you will have had enough. You’re a spoiled mob boss who is used to getting everything he wants.”

I tighten my grasp on her throat, making her eyes widen. “You will stay by my side, or perhaps I’ll go and pay your brother a visit.”

Fear ignites in her eyes. “What?”

“You heard me. I have more power than you can ever imagine. If you want him to remain alive and well, you’ll think twice about pushing me.”

Her throat bobs beneath my hand, and I release it.

“Now, stay by my side and look pretty.”

She glares at me hatefully, but doesn’t say another word.

I turn around and bump right into Adrik Volkov. The sight of him here at a Morrone event puts me on edge, but even more so now that we know what he’s up to. “Adrik?” I question.

His eyes flash, and he plasters on a cocky smirk. “Massimo. How nice to see you.”

I raise a brow. “What are you doing here? No offense, but I’m pretty sure since our families are at war, you definitely weren’t invited.” Not to mention you are scheming behind all of our backs to wipe the fucking slate clean.

He clears his throat, shrugging. “I came to indulge in some gambling. The event happened to be on, so…” He narrows his eyes. “If it’s a problem, I can leave.”

Paisley approaches my side, digging her fingernails into my arm. “And who is this?” She smiles at him and I notice the way he licks his bottom lip as his eyes dip down the length of my wife’s beautiful dress.

“Adrik Volkov, it’s a pleasure to meet you…” He raises a brow, expecting an introduction.

“Mrs. Paisley Morrone,” I say before Paisley can respond. “My wife.”

His smirk widens, and he nods. “I see.” He takes my wife’s hand in his and brings the back of it to his lips. “You are a beauty.”

I yank her hand out of his. “And taken,” I growl.

Paisley shakes her head. “Taken being the operative word.”

Adrik laughs at that. “Was your bride not willing, Massimo?”

I shoot her a warning glare, as she doesn’t know who this man is or what he’s capable of. The last thing I need is for him to gain insight into my relationship with my wife. “Of course she was willing.” I yank her against me. “Weren’t you, baby?”

I can tell it kills her as she nods her head. “Of course, dear.”

Adrik shakes his head. “I’m getting some real tense vibes off the two of you.” He glances toward my father, who is lingering with his back to us. “I will greet your father and apologize for crashing the party. After all, I’m hardly involved in my uncle’s business.” I notice a muscle in his jaw tick. “No hard feelings, right?”

I nod. “Right.” And then he walks away, leaving me reeling.