Brutal Vows (Queens & Monsters #4)(3)

I hear some scuffling noises, then an odd thud. Concerned, I lean closer to the door. “Lili? You okay?”

A few long, silent moments later, my niece pulls open the door.

Her cheeks are flushed. Her long dark hair is disheveled. The white T-shirt she’s wearing is wrinkled and untucked on one side from a pair of black yoga pants. She’s barefoot and looks disoriented, as if she just woke up.

Which would be strange, considering it’s four o’clock in the afternoon.

“I’m sorry, were you sleeping?”

“Um…working out.” She points over her shoulder to the television on the wall on the opposite side of the room. On the screen, a woman in hot pink spandex is doing jumping jacks. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to it.”

She’s about to close the door, but I push past her into the room. “This can’t wait.”

Like the rest of the house, her bedroom is overdecorated. There’s not a spare inch of space where the gaze can rest that isn’t bedeviled with velvet, gilt, mirrors, ornate wallpaper, elaborately carved wood, or stained glass.

At least in here, the colors are muted pinks and greens. My bedroom is all black, burgundy, and gold. It looks like a bordello inside the Vatican.

Gianni’s late wife was big on the Catholic church school of interior design. She died giving birth to Lili, but her unique taste in décor lives on.

I grab the remote control from the top of the dresser, click a button to mute the TV, then turn back to Lili. She stands in the same spot, looking nervous.

“What’s up, zia?”

“There’s no good way to say this, so I’m just going to say it.” When she starts to wring her hands, I add, “Maybe you should sit down.”

“Oh God. Who died? Is it Nonna?”

“Your grandmother’s fine. She made a deal with the devil to live long enough to annoy the rest of us to death first. Now listen, we don’t have much time.” I walk closer to her, take her hands in mine, and look her in the eye. “I’m going to tell you something. You won’t like it.”

Her face pales. “Oh shit.”

“Yes. And you know how I feel about you cursing.”

“Judging by the look on your face, I’m going to be cursing a lot more in the next few minutes.”

“You make a good point.”

“Plus, you curse all the time.”

“I don’t want you to turn out like me.”

“Why not? You’re a bad bitch.”

“Exactly.”

“No, zia, being a bad bitch is good.”

“Oh. Thank you. I think. Back to what I need to tell you. Are you ready?”

“No. Tell me anyway.”

I give her hands a reassuring squeeze before letting her have it. “Your father negotiated a marriage contract for you. You’re meeting the man today. As in right now. His car just pulled up.”

Lili falls still. She swallows. Other than that, she has no reaction.

“You took that better than I expected. Brave girl. So that’s the bad news. The good news is that if I don’t approve of his choice, the contract will be canceled.”

She closes her eyes, exhales, and says faintly, “Holy fucking buckets of cat shit.”

“Very creative. Anything else?”

She opens her eyes and stares at me in panic, clutching my hands so hard, it hurts. “I don’t want to get married, zia.”

“Of course you don’t. You’re sane.”

Her voice rises. “No, I mean, I can’t get married!”

She pulls away from me, crossing the room to stand defiantly in front of the big wooden wardrobe near her bed.

The thing is huge, a floor-to-ceiling antique made of shiny carved mahogany. It’s always reminded me of the magical wardrobe from The Chronicles of Narnia that can transport a person to a land of talking animals and mythical creatures.

She props her hands on her hips and declares passionately, “I’d rather die than marry a man I don’t love!”

From inside the wardrobe comes a distinct thud, as if a body just fell to the floor.

Afterward, there’s silence.

I stare at my niece. She stares right back at me, her normally sweet brown eyes on fire with defiance.

I say calmly, “Lili?”

“Yes?”

“What was that noise?”

She lifts her chin and folds her arms over her chest. “What noise?”

I look at her mussed hair, her untucked shirt, her bare feet, and her rebellious expression, and know in my bones that we have a big fucking problem.

I cross the room in several long strides, headed to the wardrobe.

Lili tries to stop me, jumping in front of the wardrobe doors and pleading, but I push her aside and yank open the door.

And come face-to-face with the young man standing inside.

Hiding inside between a mink coat and a beaded evening gown, shrinking back as far as he can against the back wall.

He’s good-looking, I’ll give her that. With liquid brown eyes, full lips, and a chest that could be featured on magazine covers, the boy is undeniably attractive.

He’s wearing nothing but a pair of tight white briefs, through which his erection is clearly visible.

He can’t be more than eighteen.