Page 6 of Sacred Vow

It was too much for me to process. My legs went out from under me as I fainted away into waiting arms.

“Quick, bring her water,” a mellifluous voice demanded. I pretended to be out while gazing though heavy lidded eyes at my surroundings. The room was massive, as was the bed I lay upon and outfitted for royalty.

“Ah, you are awake. Drink this.” The same voice that had demanded the water, belonged to a slim woman probably in her early sixties, but didn’t look a day older than fifty. Well cared for and groomed to the nines, she must be part of the Vitale family, as I couldn’t imagine a servant so well turned out.

“Sit up, dear, let me help you.”

I scooted back against a stack of pillows and allowed her to feed me sips of water from a crystal tumbler. The line of worry between her brows evaporated to be replaced with a resplendent smile, giving me a glimpse of the beauty she must have been when she was my age, a beauty that far outshone mine. Intimidated by her effortless elegance and assuming that was the standard in my new gilded cage, I squirmed under her scrutiny.

She noticed and leaned forward even closer to examine me, and was now near enough that I could smell her perfume, the pretty notes rivaled the beauty that wore it. “Are you quite all right? You didn’t injure yourself when you fainted?”

“I’m all right,” I answered automatically, then hesitated. Her concern and kindness seemed so genuine. Had I found a new friend and ally to help me escape? I took a chance and, despite the presence of several servants and guards sharing the room with us, I dropped my voice to a faint whisper, “No, I’m not all right. I was kidnapped.”

“You don’t say. How awful. By whom?” she answered with a slight quirk of her lips.

My heart sank, but my shoulders straightened and I immediately adopted my coldest and most authoritative tone: “I assume by a relation of yours. I demand to know where I am and be released at once!”

I suppose I didn’t really expect her to leap to do my bidding as my servants would have done, but I also didn’t expect this woman to chuckle at me as if I’d said something particularly witty over tea.

“You are delightful!” she said, rising from the bed, and extending an inviting hand. “Welcome to the family, Vittoria. I am Isabella, and I am looking forward to getting to know you better. But that must wait until later. We have much to accomplish in a short amount of time, if we are to have you ready for my son.”

Her son? So she wasn’t just any member of the family, she was the widow of Luciano Vitale. That explained her reaction. She probably felt as threatened as a tiger by a kitten. I had no clout here and the sooner I changed my strategy the better if I wanted to escape.

I watched and evaluated everyone in the room during the fitting. I had expected they’d dress me like a meringue but instead, I was fitted into an Alessandra Rinaudo chic nostalgia lace gown with a plunging V down to my sternum. It was gorgeous and very similar to what I would have chosen for myself, had anyone bothered to ask me.

After the fitting, I was scrubbed, waxed and washed. Then more tea before hair and make-up. Of course, my contraband was discovered in the pocket of my pants, but no one seemed upset or surprised. My father would have thrown a fit had he been the one to find it. Instead, these people smiled knowingly, like my attempts at escape were cute. Ugh! I may have met my match with the Vitale family.

I was still looking for an escape route when the first strings of the wedding march began. Crap! Now what? Nothing I could do but step through the opening and walk. I threw on my haughty face, the one sure to let him know I was not happy, nor would I be willing, and certainly not obedient.

In my peripheral vision, I noted the room and the gorgeous floral arrangements, but my eyes flew to the raised platform at the front of the stage, moving along the line of very handsome men until they landed on my groom.

No! It couldn’t be! Standing with a smirk on his handsome features was Mikey, no longer laid-back and non-threatening, but the Don of the infamous band of brothers. He radiated power and quiet authority that was almost a pulsing energy. The man held a glint of mischievousness and challenge in the depths of his eyes that burned me to my very core. But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me flinch. Instead, I lifted my chin, narrowing my eyes in challenge.

I saw one of the groomsmen speak and the eyes of my soon to be husband turned almost black. Even from this distance, I could feel his control reaching out and squeezing the nape of my neck. My knees knocked together and an unfamiliar feeling zipped to my core. Oh, I was in serious trouble with this guy and for an entirely unexpected reason: I knew that if I stayed, there was a strong possibility I’d fall for him.

No. This princess would not become a cliche. She’d escape her new ivory tower and be free. I straightened my spine and kept walking.

When I reached his side, he took my hand and gripped it tightly. Succumbing to his show of power, I finally let out a mumbling, “Too tight,” wishing I could rub the spot I knew would bruise.

Smirking, he lessened the pressure. “Just a promise of things to come, my tesoro.”

“I’ll never be your treasure,” I spat defiantly.

“Oh sweetheart, you keep telling yourself that.”

The priest began his litany, words that tumbled in and out of my hearing without making any lasting impression until I heard, “—to witness the union of Romeo Vitale and Vittoria Calogerà.”

“Romeo,” I whispered mockingly out of the side of my mouth. “Mikey suits you better.”

“A good all-American name for an all-American man?” he murmured back at me, his lips scarcely moving.

“The name of a common gutter thug,” I shot back.

He chuckled, infuriatingly. “I’ll remember that.”

The priest droned on. Then came the vows. I responded when prompted, my mind and heart racing with each vow, like a firefly tapping frantically against the sides of a jar. Okay, so maybe I’d be married for a little bit, but then I would find a way to escape and get a divorce. In the meantime, sampling the goods wouldn’t be so bad. He was gorgeous and just looking at the slight tick in his jaw told me he was as impatient for this to end as I was. Who knew, maybe once he got to know me, he would discover a shred of sympathy somewhere in his Devil’s heart and let me go. A girl could dream.

But when the ceremony ended, instead of turning toward the well-wishers, he dragged me out a door behind the platform.