Brutal Vows (Queens & Monsters #4)
J.T. Geissinger
To Jay, my HEA.
Many a good hanging prevents a bad marriage.
~ William Shakespeare
Playlist
“Enemy” Imagine Dragons “Angry Too” Lola Blanc “Black Widow” Iggy Azalea “Cold Little Heart” Michael Kiwanuka “Wicked Games” G-Easy “Shivers” Ed Sheeran
“Woman” Mumford & Sons “Fall Into Me” Forest Blakk “Mrs.” Leon Bridges
“The Joker And The Queen” Ed Sheeran/Taylor Swift “Him & I” G-Easy & Halsey “Kings & Queens” Ava Max
1
Rey
The weight of memory can sometimes be so heavy, it’s suffocating.
Take now, for instance. I’m standing across from my brother’s oak desk in his enormous wood-paneled study, staring at his face and struggling to breathe around the invisible hand squeezing my lungs. There’s also a rock in my throat and a vat of acid churning in my stomach.
All inevitable results whenever the word “marriage” is mentioned in my presence.
No four-letter curse word could ever be so vile.
Uncomfortable under my stare, Gianni glances down at the desktop. He fiddles with the edge of the blotter, then runs a finger under the collar of his white dress shirt.
“Don’t look at me like that. You knew this was coming. Lili’s of age now.”
“She’s been eighteen for all of two weeks, for fuck’s sake. And what about college? You promised you’d consider it.”
He lifts his gaze to meet mine. He has our father’s eyes, coal black and lifeless. Everyone else finds them—and him—terrifying.
But my father didn’t scare me, and neither does my older brother. For that matter, neither does anyone else.
After what I’ve been through, the devil himself could show up demanding my soul, and I’d tell him to kiss my sweet ass and fuck off back to hell.
Gianni says, “No, you insisted I consider it. And as usual, when you got an answer you didn’t like, you ignored it.”
When I only stand there glaring at him, he adds, “I vetted him. He’s not Enzo.”
At the sound of my late husband’s name, a shudder goes through me. The acid churning in my stomach sears a burning path up into my throat.
I stand still for several moments, struggling to regain my equilibrium. Then, so I don’t start breaking furniture, I start to pace.
Gianni watches me silently for several moments before trying a new approach.
“We’ll get territory. Trade routes. Important allies we desperately need. The match will make us a substantial amount of money. Tens of millions at least. Potentially hundreds.”
I mutter, “You sound like a pimp.”
He brushes that off. “Not to mention garner us influence over the other families. You know how desperate everyone is to make an alliance with the Mob. If we can pull this off, I’ll be named capo. The stakes are huge, Rey. We can secure the family’s position for generations.”
“You keep saying ‘we’ and ‘us.’ I don’t want anything to do with forcing my niece into slavery.”
With exaggerated patience, he says, “Lili was always going to be matched for the betterment of the family. You know it. She knows it. Everyone knows it. This is nothing new.”
I stop pacing and look at him. “She’s still a child.”
“At eighteen, she’s now an adult. And you were two years younger than she is when you were married.”
I say bitterly, “Yes. And look how well that turned out.”
His expression sours. “You inherited Enzo’s fortune. You gained your freedom. I’d say it turned out rather well for you in the end.”
“You conveniently skipped all the carnage in the middle between our engagement and his death.”
“Lili isn’t you, Rey.”
“No, she’s my niece. And my goddaughter. And one of the sweetest, brightest girls I’ve ever met. She doesn’t deserve to be married off to some horrible old Irishman!”
“I never said he was old.”
“Who probably stinks like cooked cabbage!”
“I promise you, he doesn’t smell like a vegetable.”
“And has a kiddie porn habit! Any man who wants to marry a teenager has to be a pervert!”
Careful not to raise his voice, though it’s obvious he’s annoyed with me and wants the conversation to be over, Gianni says, “I don’t believe he’s the type for child pornography, but you can judge for yourself. He’ll be here any minute.”
I recoil in disgust. “He’s coming here?”
“To meet Lili.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
I narrow my eyes in suspicion. “Why are you only telling me about this marriage contract seconds before the Irishman sets foot in the house?”
After a short pause, he says carefully, “Considering your temper, it seemed like a good idea to give you as little time to start smashing things as possible.”
That might be a reason, but I can tell it’s not the main one. I know my brother well.