Deadly Vows

Chapter Two

The silence in the limo was terribly suffocating.

He had not said a word since he shoved me in here like some sort of kidn*pped bride. Well, technically, I was. The air between us was terribly cold and infuriating and I could feel his presence like a shadow stretching over me. He sat opposite me, legs spread like he owned the world and his eyes focused on the city lights slipping past the tinted glass.

I stared out the window, pretending not to notice how his gaze burned holes into my skin.

“How long have you known?” I asked, finally breaking the silence.

“That you were hiding in some dusty town under the name Joyce Mok?” His lips curved into a smirk. “Long enough to let you believe you were safe.”

My jaw tightened. “You really are a bastard.”

“And you really thought you could run far and get away from me? You’re a clown!” His tone was calm, cruel. “Sweet E, I’m Luca Ricci. I own the game.”

I hated the way my stomach twisted at the sound of his voice. It was smooth like silk and dangerous like a blade.”

The car pulled into a private airstrip. The jet was already waiting. It was sleek, black and intimidating, like everything about him. Luca stepped out of the car and turned to look back at me, a dark brow lifted in silent command.

I remained rooted in my seat.

He stepped back inside, bending to my level. “We can do this the easy way, or the way where I throw you over my shoulder again like a sack of flour. Personally, I enjoy the latter.”

“I’m not your possession,” I snapped.

He smirked. “You will be, legally. In less than two weeks.”

I didn’t know if it was the jet, or his words or the cold wind now curling around my legs as he yanked the door open fully, but I moved. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of carrying me again.

A small crew stood by, bowing their heads in silent greeting. Of course, they knew who he was and who I was supposed to become.

“Where are we going?” I asked, as we climbed the stairs.

“Milan.” He said.

I laughed bitterly. “I don’t want to go there. I don’t want to go anywhere near you.”

Luca paused halfway up the stairs and looked down at me. “Oh, you will.”

I didn’t reply.

I didn’t trust myself to speak, not with the burn in my throat and the anger rising in my chest.

Inside the jet was as extravagant as I’d imagined. Cream leather seats, dark oak panels, glasses filled with what looked like champagne. I sat stiffly near the window, farthest from him.

He sat across from me, legs crossed and glass in hand.

“I’ll scream the second I get the chance,” I said, voice low and sharp.

He chuckled. “Scream all you want, sweet E. No one’s going to save you on my jet.”

My blood chilled. I was truly alone.

His hand touched mine and it seemed controlling.

“Touch me again and you’ll lose that hand,” I said.

“You’ll be begging for it soon,” he murmured.

I swallowed hard and said nothing.

“Why Italy, though? You’re rich and powerful. You could have taken me anywhere else.” I asked, after a long silence.

“It’s home,” he said simply. “And now, yours too. But you shouldn’t worry, sweet E, I can take you to as many places as you want.”

“You’re a delusional psycho.”

“Say that again after you’ve slept in my bed.”

I jerked to my feet.

He didn’t move, but his eyes darkened.

“I’m not a dog.”

“No,” he said, “dogs are loyal.”

I clenched my jaw, but stayed standing, arms folded. “Why not marry someone who wants you? Surely, there are women who would line up just to carry your last name.”

He gave a dark smile. “Probably, but I don’t want any of them. I want the girl who ran. The one who spat in my face and said no. That’s the one I want kneeling in my home. In my bed. Wearing my ring.”

“You’re sick.” I shot back, taking my seat and fastening my belt.

He leaned forward, voice low. “You have no idea how sick I can be, my sweet E.”

“Don’t call me that!” I retorted.

He laughed lowly.

A shiver ran down my spine. Not fear, not entirely. There was something else. Something I hated.

Attraction.

No. Not that, not now.

“You know you could’ve canceled the contract and saved yourself this trouble.”

“I don’t cancel,” he said. “I collect.”

His answer sent ice through my veins. I looked outside the window as the engine started to rumble.

“You still don’t get it?” he added, almost casually. “You father owes me. Not just money, blood. He’s living on borrowed time and I hold the stopwatch. You think you’re the victim here? Your family wrote this story with their sins.”

I turned sharply. “Leave my family out of this dirty game you’re playing.”

The plane began its slow movement down the runway and I gripped the seat.

“You’re cruel.” I whispered.

“No,” he replied. “I’m fair. I punish what deserves punishment and I claim what’s owed. You, Eva Montilli, were promised to me.”

The engines roared louder and just like that, we were in the air. Flying not just across the ocean, but into a future I never asked for. A life I never chose.”

I turned away, pretending not to care, but I was now curious. Not just about him. About the darkness in his eyes. The pain behind the threats and the madness beneath his mask. Also, what blood did my family owe him?

Deep down, I knew this wasn’t just a flight to Milan. It was a flight into the heart of the man who ruined everything and somehow, the beginning of something far more dangerous.

He could play king all he wanted.

But I wasn’t just some pawn on the board.

This was war.

And I was done losing.