Revenge Vows: A Forced Marriage Mafia Romance (Ruthless Mafia Sinners)

Delusional, that’s what I am.

What was I thinking? That a near-death experience would suddenly turn him into a decent man?

Pathetic! Oh, if I could turn back the hands of time, I would. Oh, who am I kidding? I am so delusional that I would still pick him over and over.

“Hey, are you okay?” comes Bunny’s voice, pulling me out of my thoughts. I look up at him and see him staring at my hands. I look down to know that I am gripping my fork like one would grip a knife.

We are seated at the table having dinner in the cabin, which is lit only by guttering candles. My eyes meet Antonio’s expressionless face. Great, now even his brother gives more fucks about me.

I smile and hold my fork normally. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He gives an uncertain nod. “Have some more salad,” he says, taking the bowl and scooping it some onto my plate.

I smile this time in genuine gratitude. When he doesn’t have to be a deadly mafia man, he is a sweet boy who loves to dote on people he cares about.

He adores Antonio. I saw how he was staying up at night without a wink of sleep, looking over him and dabbing his head with a cold towel. We took turns, but honestly, we often just lay awake—bonding in silence over our hope that Antonio would be fine.

“Thank you,” I say, continuing with my meal, watching from the corner of my eyes as he puts some salad into Antonio’s plate. We finish a rather silent meal, and Bunny offers to clean up.

“We can do it together,” I tell him, but he shakes his head. “You haven’t had a good night’s rest in days. I’ll take care of this. You should go to bed.”

“But—” He was already hunched over the sink. I smile and head to my little room. It’s a small cabin, and it has only two rooms, right opposite each other.

Antonio had gone into his room immediately after dinner, insisting on walking on his bad leg. Why was he so stubborn? I stare at his door for a minute as the thought of going over to knock crosses my mind.

I should ask if he has taken his medications. I stop myself immediately. What did I care? I had done my part, hadn’t I? What if he needed help with something? He would call out to Bunny. What if—

His door opens, and before I can pull open the door to the other room, he is standing right in front of me. “Were you about to knock?”

“No!” I cry, “Why would I want to do that?”

“Oh,” he says, looking confused.

“Yeah, well. Goodnight then,” I say, turning sharply.

“Alyssa, wait!” I stop, and I slowly turn to him. “Can we talk?”

We sit in front of the cabin on a log under the stars. In my hands are two cups of cold, fresh lemonade. I hand him one cup, and he says thank you as I settle beside him.

“You’ve become more trusting—you don’t think I poisoned it?” I ask as he drinks from the cup.

He chuckles. “These days, the idea of death sounds quite inviting.”

I sigh. “Don’t talk like that. Your brother would lose it if he heard you say that.”

He clicks his tongue. “I should work on considering the people I love more.”

I sip my lemonade, and the sour, sweet taste hits me. “You should,” I answer.

He nods and turns to me. Our eyes meet, and I realize how different he looks. His buff body looks almost slender, but it isn’t missing its aura of intimidation. His hair is so grown out that it falls over his ears, and his brown eyes have lost their intensity.

So why does his gaze still send shivers down my spine? Why do I feel butterflies from sitting so close to him?

“I’m sorry, Alyssa.”

I let out a laugh. “Suddenly? Maybe you are really about to die.”

“I’m an asshole.”

I shrug. “That’s an understatement.”

His eyes search my face. “You should hate me. You should be so disgusted with me that you want to start a life where you hear nothing about me ever again.”

“I’ll look into doing that.”

“But you’re here.”

I am carrying your child, but I don’t say it. It’s something I have no courage to say out loud.

“I get it now,” I say.

He looks up at me.

“You feel sorry for me, don’t you, Antonio?”

He signs and then continues, “Alyssa, you’re getting it wrong.”

“Am I?” I ask. I stand up, and I sigh.

“I get it, I look dumb and pathetic. Believe me, I berate myself every morning. You aren’t as disgusted with me as I am disgusted with myself.”

“I have never felt disgust for you.”

“So it’s a pity then, for how pathetic I am. Got it.”

He slowly gets up to his feet. “Alyssa.”

“I am tired of everyone asking me why I am by your side. I have no idea why I am, okay? It’s just how it is.” I wipe the moisture gathering in my eyes. “So quit talking to me nicely because you feel sorry for me making an ass of myself.”

He doesn’t respond; he just stares blankly.

Embarrassed by my outburst, I lower my head. “I should go to bed.”

He reaches over, grabs my arm, and pulls me into his arms, enveloping me in a warm hug. My head is pressed against his chest, and he holds me so tight that I can’t break free, not that I want to. I feel myself melting into his arms despite my confusion. His hold is safe, familiar, and nostalgic.

“I don’t think you’re pathetic or disgusting. If anyone is, it’s me.” He lets out a heavy exhale. “You’re the strongest woman I know.” For me, the world stands still as he holds me in his arms.

“Antonio,” I say softly. He answers me by looking down at me. My heart skips a beat as his face hovers close above mine.

“We should go inside,” I say.

He nods and slowly pulls away. You shouldn’t strain your shoulders like that,” I say, looking away.

“Can I spend the night with you?” he asks. I stare at him in shock. “You can say no if you want to,” he says hurriedly, “but if you’re okay with it, I want you next to me tonight.”

Against every decent bone in my body, I nod.

He stretches out his hands, and I take it. When we get back into the cabin, Bunny’s loud snore greets us both.

“How did you survive this?” he asks me, as he points to Bunny snoring.

I laugh. “Cut the poor guy some slack, he hasn’t slept in days.”

He turns to me. “Now I definitely have to be with you. It’s a matter of survival.”

I chuckle as I open the door to my room. He walks in and settles down on the bed.

“I’ll change outside,” I say, picking up my nightdress.

“You don’t have to go outside,” he says. Our eyes meet, and he panics. “I mean—I could go outside and come in after you’ve changed.”

I smile at how cute he looks, all panicked and worried. “Or you could look away.”

“Right—right,” he says, turning away. “You can look now,” I call out to him. He opens his eyes, and he turns to look at me. He stares, almost looking awestruck at me.

“Is—is there a problem? I could wear a T-shirt if you think this is too much,” I say, looking down at the short black night dress I have on.

“No, it’s—it’s no problem at all,” he tells me.

“All right,” I reply, walking up and sitting beside him. We sit in awkward silence before he clears his throat.

“We should go to bed now, shouldn’t we?” he asks. I nod.

In the most painfully awkward manner, we both get into bed, lying side by side robotically. Suddenly, I burst out laughing. He turns his head to me.

“Share the joke?”

I turn to him. “This is the first time we are in a bed together, and we aren’t, you know—fucking.”

He breaks out into a smile that he fights to hide. “I still want you in my arms,” he says softly.

“Well, mister, you have a bad shoulder; we can’t risk that.”

He nods. “Can I at least hold your hand?”

I nod. He opens his palms up, and I place my hand into it.

“Can you ever forgive me for all the hurt I have caused you?”

I sigh. “I don’t know.”

He squeezes my hands. “I don’t deserve you.”

A lump grows in my throat. Maybe this was the right time to tell him about the baby. I turn to see his eyes flutter shut. His hand is still tightly holding onto mine. Maybe it’s not quite yet the right time.

I scoot over to him and lean in as close as I can to feel the heat from his body. Then, I shut my eyes and let myself melt into slumber.

In the middle of the night, I wake up to a quiet thud. I grab my phone and turn to Antonio, who sleeps soundly beside me. I gently get out of bed, careful not to wake him. The long beam of light from my phone guides me as I slip outside my room.

“Bunny, is that you?” I call softly. His loud snore gives me an answer. I stay still and listen for more sounds, but nothing more comes. I must be dreaming.

I sigh to myself as I walk to the kitchen. I pour myself a glass of water and settle down at the table to drink it. The gentle breeze from outside hits my back, and I turn to see the curtain fluttering. I walk over to the window and shut it, stopping the gust of wind.

I hear footsteps behind me, and I turn sharply.

“Who is it?” I call. “Bunny? Is that you?” I ask, flashing my light into the darkness.

I get no answer. I turn around, and shivers run down my spine. I walk back toward my room, but I am grabbed and pushed against the wall. The phone in my hand falls and clatters to the other side of the room. Before I can make a sound, I feel a heavy blow over my head and then I know nothing but darkness.