Shattered Vows: An Arranged Marriage Standalone Romance (Tarnished Empire)

“It’s a freaking topless beach, Bastian.” I stomped my foot.

Bastian didn’t even lift his head as he sprayed the fucking plants. “I really don’t care, Morina. Wear a t-shirt or dress or one of those cut up tops you always wear. You’re not going there in a bikini.”

“Well, quite frankly, I think I should just go topless.”

That had him looking up, his chiseled jaw flexing up and down.

Good. He wanted to be a jerk this morning, I would too. We could both be pissy about this event.

It was the morning of the oil company’s winter warm up event. Since the board meeting, it had been a week of him not here, then another week of him working a ton with his security following me around everywhere. I tried to go to the tiki bar one night and they’d called Bastian who’d told me to just come home.

We’d been on such good terms that I conceded but now I was irritated. What did he expect me to do once we divorced?

Never go out?

Was this the life I’d signed up for?

“I’m wearing the bikini.” I stomped off to my room and he swore in Italian.

Too bad.

We drove in quiet anger to the event until I threw out the question that was bouncing around in my mind. “You can’t leash me all the time. I’m going to do what I want. What do you expect after these six months?”

“You’re an Untouchable forever, ragazza. You’ll need to act like one.”

“We’ll be divorced.” I punctuated the words. “I’ve been to topless beaches and tiki bars before. I’m going to go again.”

“Well, use discretion in the future.” He shrugged and then had the audacity to pull out his phone.

It was a direct slight. He never looked at it and always kept it on silent when we were around each other. I did the same.

“In the future, I’m going to go wherever I please, do whatever I please, and see whoever I please because that’s what divorce means.”

He slid his phone back in his pocket, and his gaze jumped up to mine.

Fury glinted there now. Dominance.

I’d lured Sebastian out of hiding.

“I guess the honeymoon’s over, ragazza. Almost four months into this marriage and you’re discussing what you’ll do after our divorce.”

“The honeymoon never even got started,” I grumbled, because not only was I pissed, I was sexually frustrated near him all the time.

He hummed and his eyes tracked over my body, staying on my tits for far too long. My nipples tightened and his jaw worked overtime, no doubt seeing how thin the fabric of my top was.

“I have half a mind to turn this car around.”

“But you won’t. You’ll go and put on a good show for all your business associates. And I’ll smile like all is right in the world. Or maybe I’ll start our descent into divorce. Give the media something to talk about.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Interesting play, ragazza.” Then he sat back and combed his hand through his thick dark hair. “Maybe you have the right idea.”

He didn’t say another word to me through the car ride, and I stared out at the coast, stewing.

When we arrived, I got out of the door he opened for me but didn’t thank him. I straightened my sheer black skirt as it wafted in the wind and waltzed away from him.

My black bikini top was much less revealing than what half the women at the party wore. Ronald had decked out the beach with umbrellas and gold tables. Completely nude women covered in gold paint stood on platforms around us, shimmering in the sunlight.

I immediately grabbed a drink from a man serving from a gold tray and downed it as an older woman from the board came over.

“I knew your grandma, Maribel,” she croaked. She wore a skirt that only came half down her thigh. That was it. She’d embraced the topless theme like half the crowd. I wanted to hug her for it because she pulled it off better than most even in her sixties. “And she hated these parties.”

I watched everyone schmoozing on the beach, not one of them taking in the beauty of the ocean just feet away. “I can see why.”

The woman with dyed blonde hair patted my arm and smiled. “I used to hate them too until I just decided to hell with it. I’m going to do whatever I want. Now, I love them.”

I nodded, not sure what to say. I wouldn’t be coming to these events much longer.

She pointed to a man who couldn’t have been more than a few years my senior. “See that guy over there? Last time, I slept with him in Ronald’s spare bedroom.”

My eyes went wide at her.

“What have I got to lose?” She shrugged. “I’m not married and I don’t have kids. I’m doing what I want.”

“That’s great.” I took a gulp of my drink. What was she getting at?

“You should too. That’s what Maribel would want. She had you marry that man so you could do just that. She said you were a girl who stayed in this city and didn’t commit to anything because your parents messed your mind up.”

“Um…” She had way too much information. I glanced around, hoping no one was listening.

“Oh, don’t worry. No one’s paying attention to me. I’m the crazy old bat. But Maribel wasn’t. She thought you loved your parents too much and then they left over and over and it ruined you for commitment.”

I tried to cut her off but she held up her hand.

“I know she forced you into this arrangement. Perfect plan, in my opinion. Now, follow through and make sure you kick Ronald right in the balls by handing that stock over to Bastian. Don’t let us down.”

My eyes bulged at her confession. They’d all told Ronald his idea was great and I thought Bastian would be going against everyone. Turns out he was still winning the board members over one by one himself.

I turned to find Bastian as I patted the woman’s shoulder and thanked her. I needed to tell him that we were doing it, that this was all going to work in the end, that my city and his legacy would all be fine.

Then, I saw him.

And Elizabeth in pink bikini bottoms with no top.

She turned and brushed her chest against him as she said something.

He didn’t back away, instead his hand was on her back as he led her over to another couple to speak to.

Maybe the pain was in their perfection. They looked like a painting with the ocean as their backdrop.

My ocean.

My beach.

They tainted it standing there.

Then he looked over his shoulder and we made eye contact. He didn’t back away from her. He stayed right where he was.

She shouldn’t have been on his arm. He knew it and so did I.

I was his wife. Maybe my free spirit had deceived him. I might’ve been younger, dumber, and not as good looking, I could admit that.

Yet, Bastian was still my husband.

My heart shifted like the earth under the ocean and a tsunami surged. Underwater earthquakes, hidden beneath the sea, were the ones that caused the pain, the suffering, the suffocating power of those huge waves.

When I was young, I dreamed of riding one. I wanted to ride in on the power and see the world below.

I would do that with my own world. Bastian must have made the decision to move forward with our public displays of starting a separation.

So, I would too.

I wouldn’t care that he stood next to another woman. No, instead, I wanted to rock his world too. I wanted to drown him in jealousy and make him feel what raged inside me.

He wanted me to blend in and not draw attention to myself as his Untouchable. I’d never blended in. I flowed through the town and breathed life where I went. I may not have ever committed to anything but I was committed to being me.

Free. I sunk my feet into the sand and breathed in the salty air. The waves washed to shore again and again. They were slow and tranquil, unlike the one building deep in my heart. The tsunami was about to crash and it would feel like hell. Riding a wave like that would be dangerous. Falling in love with Bastian was the same.

A surfer always wiped out and I knew this would be the biggest wipeout of my life.

Still, I was ready to hit every high point before then.

I glanced at a man who had been at the board meeting. “Quinton.” I smiled at him and pulled the black string at my neck. “Can you help me?”

I turned slowly and he didn’t hesitate. He untangled that knot like a man on a mission to defuse a bomb.

The thin triangles over my breasts fell. Instantly the sun warmed my skin and my nipples puckered.

He didn’t even look down at them because he was smiling so wide as I faced him again. “You’re going to cause havoc with Bastian today, aren’t you?”

Quinton had introduced himself to me at the gala not too long ago and it seemed he knew just what we were getting ourselves into. From his smile, I knew he’d play along. I swung a leg over the lounge chair and sat down. I took my time unfolding onto it, closed my eyes, and waited.

Let the chaos happen around me. I was on top of my wave. I was above them all now.

If Bastian found his way here, fine. If not, I had others who would talk to me.

Most importantly, I was back to myself. This was me and would always be me. I wouldn’t be an Untouchable forever, not in the way Bastian thought.

The sun reminded me of who I was. I had the ocean talking to me, the seagulls cawing at me, and the sand between my toes.

“You’re really pretty like this, Morina.” Quinton’s voice sounded above me. I cracked an eye to stare at him.

His eyes were a deep blue, almost like the midnight sky, and his hair was that dark blonde I imagined a Ken doll would have in real life. “I’m not sure what you mean, Quinton.”

He tsked. “Your husband is watching. His mouth slammed shut and his hands fisted the moment he figured out what you were doing.”

I didn’t show any emotion but my stomach knotted up and my heart pounded. I closed my eyes again so as not to give anything away.

My husband was obviously flirting with the woman on his arm, and had probably already been with her. I’d been the naive one sitting in our penthouse as if we were creating some bond.

Instead of trying to pursue any more conversation, I just said, “Interesting.”

My mind was all tangled up with new feelings and I wasn’t sure how to act now that I knew Bastian was watching.

“What’s really interesting is how he hasn’t made his way over here yet.”

“It’s mostly about pride and appearance,” I told him and myself. Bastian didn’t care what I was doing but he did care if I was making a fool out of him.

“Is that what it’s about for you?” Quinton asked me quietly.

I stared out at the water and waited for the waves to rock and soothe me with their rhythm, the rhythm of the world. It didn’t work this time, my heart was beating too fast and my frustration roared to life in my veins. “It has to be just that for me.”

He nodded. “Well, then, I’m here to entertain and, honestly, I’m here to stare as long as you’ll let me.”

I laughed at his honesty. Most men would have tried to keep their eyes above my shoulders or been creepy about it. Somehow him admitting that it was fun to look had me relaxing a bit. In another world, I would have liked him, I would have wanted more with him.

In a world without Bastian.

“When did you get the tattoo on your shoulder?” Quinton asked as he took a seat in the lounge chair beside mine. He offered me a bottle of oil and I rubbed it over my chest and stomach before answering.

“I got it when I was sixteen after I came to terms with my parents being gone.” I closed my eyes and tried to enjoy his company, even if it wasn’t the company I really wanted.

“Where did they go?”

Something about today had shifted my heart, and something about this man being so honest with me, had me wanting to be honest with him. “They were always runners. They would leave me for weeks at time. When my mom was home, she was vibrant and full of life and my dad just adored her. Then, they’d say they were going to the grocery store and not show up again for weeks. I didn’t really understand it until I was a teenager…” I stopped because I was babbling.

“So, what happened? Don’t stop now. I need to know the whole story.”

I sighed, eyes still closed. “They were addicts and I sort of hated when they came back. They would blame my being hyper or not doing well in school on them leaving over and over. I resented them and myself.”

“I hope you learned different.” Quinton sighed, like maybe he understood some part of it.

I shrugged, “Maybe I sometimes still blame myself. I don’t know. You know, one day they just didn’t come back and we got a call to say they’d been in an accident a couple states away. It wasn’t big news. Everyone just wrote it off as another sad story of how drugs overtake people. And I agreed. Except I was still a kid. I still felt like they were coming home for a long time. When I finally understood they weren’t, I got the tattoo.”

Quinton sat and listened intently, even though I was topless in a lounge chair at this stupid party.

“Morina.” Bastian’s voice sliced through the air in a way that said I’d finally gotten a reaction from him. “Time to go.”

My eyes flew open and I met the dark stare of my husband. His strong jaw was hard enough to cut stone. His full lips pursed as he broke eye contact and scanned up and down my body.

It felt like lava on my skin as he perused every curve. I lifted my chin, ready to fight if that was what he intended. “Bastian. This is a great spot on the beach. Quinton and I were just enjoying the view.”

“I have a feeling you were enjoying different views.”

The man behind him chuckled and unfolded from the lounge chair. “Morina, next time you need company, feel free to give me a call.”

“My wife has my company, Quinton. Don’t be disrespectful.”

“What is respect, Sebastian? Letting another man entertain your wife and not coming over yourself? Or is that neglect?”

I saw the moment Bastian’s stance shifted. His muscles rippling in a way they didn’t usually. Quinton must’ve witnessed the transformation too, because he stepped back, raising his hands.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Morina.” He backstepped, leaving me with a man who never got angry, and yet here he was seething.

“It’s time to go,” Bastian said through clenched teeth, without looking at me. His stare was on the water, where mine once had been. The wind pushed the waves higher.

Angry waves.

The tide picked up like it knew Bastian owned the ocean too.

Strands of my hair stuck to the sheen on my shoulder and across my breasts. I brushed them way, but my skin reacted to my own touch or maybe to Bastian’s gaze that was suddenly following my hand.

My nipples tightened as he licked his lips and his eyes narrowed. “Morina, I swear to fucking God, you are beautiful in your fury and you have a right to it.” His voice came out low like someone threw it through gravel. “But if you keep this up, I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here even if you are kicking and screaming.”

My hand slid down my stomach, inch by inch. I arched and bit my lip, stopping right above my bikini bottoms. Both of our stares paused there too, his was furious and mine was wanting suddenly.

I wanted him to possess me, wanted him to feel the jealousy and the desire I felt for him at the same time. “Why are we resisting others’ advances, Bastian? We could both be enjoying ourselves, working toward legal separation.”

He pulled my string bikini top from his pocket. He must have picked it up from the sand. He threw the balled up piece of fabric onto my chest. “Put your top back on.”

“It’s a topless beach, Bastian. Everyone is–”

His large hand shot out and was under my hair so fast, I didn’t see it coming. He gripped it hard at the base. When he knelt beside me, his other hand gripped my jaw and I was trapped. So easily, he had an advantage as he pulled my ear close. “I’m happy to make a public display of how you’re my wife right here right now if you want to. No separation of any sort. You want to enjoy someone else’s touch, ragazza? I’ll make you beg for mine on this beach right now.”

I stared at him, suddenly something a lot like fear slithered through me. Bastian was supposed to be the one who made allies with everyone, who was soft where his father had been hard.

Bastian was gone.

The head of the Armanelli family held me in his grasp.

The shake in his hand, the wild in his eyes was something like I’d never seen.

I opened my mouth, ready to agree. He didn’t let me though.

“Don’t say a word,” he whispered calmly. Yet, that grip, the grip in my hair bordered on painful. “Pick up your top and cover what’s mine.”

Why did my body want so badly to defy him, to push him past the point he could control. He must have seen my hesitation, because he jerked my head just a little and ground out, “Now.”

I cautiously brought the strings to my neck where he raised my hair enough for me to tie a knot right below his grip.

Before I could adjust the triangles of fabric, one of his hands trailed down the string on my neck. The other dragged over my breast, his thumb rubbing over my tattoo, his fingers curling around its curve. The thin fabric was no barrier.

He squeezed and rolled me in his hand forcing a gasp from me before my hand flew to my mouth.

No. He didn’t get to pull a reaction out of me. He didn’t deserve that and yet my body was already giving in.

“Why can’t you just work with me, huh?” His question came out like he was far away. “Why goad me with other men when you know you only have to be good for a few more months?”

His hand slid down my stomach, following the trail I’d made. The slick oil was warmer now, heated by the sun or by my body reacting to the beautiful man holding me hostage on that beach. It didn’t take any more from him to have me arching into this touch too.

I’d been without for so long. I’d dreamt of his touch, burned for it. I’d beg for it at this point. Even if I knew it wasn’t healthy, we’d end up crashing down in a destroyed city after.

The tsunami of us was growing and swelling, becoming a monstrosity.

Fingers at the edge of my bikini bottoms, he nipped my ear. “Should I make you plead with me in front of them all? Is that what you really want? To get what you’re dying for in front of all these people?”

“Bastian,” I whispered and shook my head. “It’s a public event.”

“Where you took your top off, right?”

This was my punishment. This was him showing his power. He might have had a hold on the whole world in one way or another but his hold on me was sexual, was a bond of possession and possessor. He wanted me to understand respect, to understand that right now I was his.

I squirmed when his pinky dipped under the fabric.

“You wouldn’t,” I hissed.

The smile that spread across his face was vicious.

His hand dove into my bikini bottoms. I don’t know who was watching. Most everyone was behind him a little ways off where the gold women posed and the alcohol was being served.

Still, anyone could have walked over.

Formal Bastian had gone though. And the woman who would have thought better of riding a man’s hand in public, well, she wasn’t here either.

I bit my lip and arched as his finger slid in.

A tsunami always started small. The shift in water, quick. This was his earthquake and he intended to make me feel it. He was on top of the tsunami and I was below, staring up in awe at the man inside the business suit. He ruled all of us, and he ruled me too.

“Willing to take it anywhere, piccola ragazza. I should tie you up and keep you locked away.”

“If only you could, right?” I moaned and gripped his wrist as I gasped and took what I wanted fast.

He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Say your husband’s name when you moan, piccola ragazza. Tell them all who gives you pleasure you can’t bear to wait for.”

I stared at him as he slid another finger in and curled them as his thumb rubbed over my clit. I gasped out, “Sebastian Armanelli.”

“Til death do us part.” He murmured and I didn’t correct him.