Vows to the Devil

The Devil's Bride

I woke up to sunlight streaming through my bedroom windows.

My wedding day.

The blood-red dress hung on my closet door. I stared at it for a long moment, my stomach twisting into knots. In six hours, I would belong to Rafael De Luca.

I slipped out of bed and walked to my dressing table . In the bottom drawer, hidden beneath old jewelry boxes, I found what I was looking for. Papa's letter opener.

"What are you doing?" My mother's voice made me jump.

She stood in the doorway wearing a black dress. Even for my own wedding, she was dressed for mourning.

"Nothing." I slipped the letter opener into my robe pocket. "Just thinking."

She walked over and sat on my bed. "We don't have to do this, Maliya. We could run. Leave the city tonight."

"And go where? You think Rafael wouldn't find us?" I shook my head. "This is the only way to end it."

"By marrying your father's killer?"

"By getting close enough to make him pay."

Her face went white. "Don't even think about it. If you try anything..."

"What? He'll kill me?" I laughed bitterly. "Mama, I'm already dead. The moment I walk down that aisle, Maliya Cruize dies. All that's left is deciding whether Mrs. De Luca will be a victim or a weapon."

She was quiet for a long time. Then she stood up and kissed my forehead.

"Your father would be proud of you."

"No. Papa would have found another way." I looked at myself in the mirror. "But Papa's not here. So this is what we have."

An hour later, I was sitting in front of my dress table while Maria did my hair. The letter opener was now hidden in my garter, pressed against my thigh. Every time I shifted, I felt the cool metal reminding me that I wasn't completely helpless.

A knock on my bedroom door interrupted my thoughts.

"Come in," I called, expecting my mother.

Instead, Lorenzo De Luca stepped into my room.

He looked terrible. His hair was messy, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't slept either.

"Lorenzo." Maria looked between us nervously. "Miss Maliya is getting ready for..."

"Leave us alone," he said quietly.

Maria glanced at me. I nodded, and she hurried out, closing the door behind her.

Lorenzo and I stared at each other in silence. Three days ago, he was supposed to be my husband. Now he was about to become my brother-in-law.

"You look beautiful," he said finally.

"Don't."

"Maliya, I need you to know..." He ran his hands through his hair. "I tried to stop this. I went to my father's advisors, to the other families. No one would listen."

"Because your brother scares them."

"Because my brother owns them." Lorenzo stepped closer. "Rafael didn't just come back to claim you. He came back to take control of everything. Our family, your family, the entire operation."

I turned to face him fully. "Are you trying to warn me about something I don't already know?"

"I'm trying to tell you that Rafael has been obsessed with you since we were teenagers." His voice was barely a whisper. "Before he left, he used to watch you at family gatherings. He knew everything about you.

My blood ran cold. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying this isn't just about revenge for our father's death. Rafael wanted you long before Vincent was killed."

The room suddenly felt too small. "Then who..."

"I don't know who killed your father. But I know my brother, and when Rafael wants something, he takes it. No matter what he has to destroy to get it."

I stood up slowly, my legs shaking. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because in two hours, you're going to be trapped in his house with no way out." Lorenzo reached into his jacket and pulled out a small silver phone. "This number will reach me directly. If you need help, if he hurts you, call me."

I took the phone and slipped it into my bra. "Why would you help me?"

"Because you were supposed to be mine. Because I..." He stopped himself. "Because someone needs to protect you from him."

"I don't need protection, I need revenge."

"Maliya, please. Don't try to fight Rafael head-on. He's not like other men. He's not even like other criminals. He's something else entirely."

"What do you mean?"

Before Lorenzo could answer, my bedroom door burst open. Rafael walked in like he owned the place.

"Brother." His voice was deadly calm. "I thought I told you to stay away from my bride."

Lorenzo went pale but didn't back down. "I was just..."

"You were just leaving." Rafael's eyes never left Lorenzo's face. "Weren't you?"

The tension in the room was suffocating. For a moment, I thought Lorenzo might actually stand up to his brother. Then his shoulders sagged in defeat.

"Take care of yourself, Maliya," he said quietly, and walked out.

Rafael watched him go, then turned to me with a smile that made my skin crawl.

"You look stunning in red. Like you were born to wear it."

"What do you want?"

"To escort my bride to church, of course." He walked over to my vanity and picked up my perfume bottle, inhaling the scent. "Can't have you running away before the ceremony."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"No. You're not." He set the perfume down and reached into his jacket. "I brought you a wedding gift."

He pulled out a small black box and placed it on my vanity. Inside was my father's signet ring, the one he'd worn every day of his life. The one that should have been buried with him.

"Where did you get this?" My voice came out as a whisper.

"I took it off his finger." Rafael's voice was casual, like he was discussing the weather. "Right after I put four bullets in his chest."

The world stopped spinning. "You admit it."

"To you? Always." He stepped closer until I could smell his cologne. "I want you to know exactly who you're marrying, princess. I want you to understand what you're getting into."

"Why?" The word came out strangled.

"Because honesty is important in a marriage." His hand touched my cheek, the same way it had at the funeral. "Your father killed mine when I was twelve years old. I spent fifteen years planning my revenge. And you, beautiful Maliya, are the final piece."

I should have been terrified. I should have been crying or begging or trying to run. Instead, I felt something cold and sharp settle in my chest.

"Is that all I am to you? Revenge?"

His thumb brushed across my bottom lip. "Oh no, sweetheart. You're so much more than that."

"What else?"

"You're mine." His voice dropped to a whisper. "You've been mine since the moment I first saw you at your eighteenth birthday party. You just didn't know it yet."

Lorenzo had been right. This wasn't just about my father.

"The car is waiting," Rafael said, stepping back. "Time to go become Mrs. De Luca."

He walked toward the door, then paused.

"Oh, and Maliya? Whatever Lorenzo gave you, I'd throw it away if I were you. Phones can be traced. And I don't like my wife talking to other men."

He left me alone with my father's ring and the terrible understanding that I was walking into something much worse than an arranged marriage.

I was walking into a trap that had been twenty years in the making.

But as I slipped the ring onto my finger and checked that the letter opener was still secure against my thigh, I smiled.

Rafael thought he was getting his ultimate prize.

He had no idea he was about to marry his own destruction.