Bound by my blood

Chapter twenty-eight

The tension is thick as I stand outside Vince's office, the shouting echoing through the thick wood. Salvatore's voice is unmistakable, and though it's muffled, I can still hear Vincenzo's sharp retorts. The two of them are at each other, their words biting and angry, and I catch my name thrown into the mix multiple times.

I hesitate for a moment, anxiety gripping me before I take a deep breath and knock lightly on the door. The sounds inside abruptly cease, leaving an unsettling silence hanging in the air. My fingers nervously twist my wedding band, a nervous habit I can't shake, as I wait.

The door swings open, and Angelo's tall figure looms in the doorway. He smiles down at me, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. There's something there, a flicker of fear, whether for me or someone else, I can't quite tell, but I know it's there.

"I'm sorry, but Vince told me to meet him here at six," I mutter, my voice wavering as I glance at Salvatore, whose gaze is as cold as ice.

"So your little bitch speaks without permission too." Salvatore's words are venomous.

"I understand exactly why you won't go through with the deal now." He sneers, his eyes scanning me with disdain, and I instinctively take a step back.

His gaze travels down my body, a look of disgust on his face as his eyes settle on the dress I'm wearing. It's far too revealing, a choice not mine. The neckline plunges into a deep V, and the bottom barely covers my hips, leaving little to the imagination. I'd cinched a belt around my waist to try and lengthen it, hiding my body as best I could, but it wasn't enough.

I swallow hard, my body trembling as I wrap my arms around myself. Vince, who has been silent until now, stands up from his chair and strides over to me. Without a word, he kisses my cheek gently before turning back to his father.

"I'm sorry, padre," he says coldly, "but we have business to attend to at the club."

Salvatore frowns, his lips curling in frustration as he mutters something under his breath about me going on a business deal too, but Vince doesn't seem to care. He grabs my hand, pulling me out of the office, and I don't look back.

I can feel Salvatore's eyes on me, burning with contempt, but I can't make sense of it. He's the one who arranged this marriage. He seems to despise my very existence, yet he's the one who bound me to his son.Top of Form

Once outside, the cold Sicilian air hits me, sharp and bitter against my skin. Vince opens the door of the limo and gestures for me to slide in first. I do, quickly, sitting on the soft leather seat as he follows, climbing in behind me.

He glances at me for a brief moment, and I catch the glint of something in his eyes — an unreadable mix of intensity and something deeper, something that makes my pulse quicken. The door clicks shut, and the limo begins to move, the quiet hum of the engine adding to the silence that wraps around us.

Vince's eyes never leave me, his gaze lingering longer than usual. He finally breaks the silence, his voice smooth and low, "Ignore him, guaio."

The nickname slips off his tongue like a secret just for me, a hint of something dangerous lurking underneath.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and lean back against the plush leather seat, trying to steady my breath. But every inch of my skin is aware of him, his presence filling the space between us.

He taps away on his phone for a moment, then looks up, the intensity in his gaze making my stomach flutter. He sets his phone down and reaches for me, pulling me onto his lap with such ease that it takes me by surprise. The sudden closeness, the heat radiating off his body, sends a jolt through me.