Unholy Vows: Chapter 23

I woke from a dead sleep to the slightest pinch on my arm. The last few hours rushed back to me. The wedding, the reception, Renato cutting my finger and then bringing me upstairs. Coming so hard I’d seen stars. My body was warm and limp, wrung out by pleasure.

“You’re a heavy sleeper, bambina,” Renato murmured from my side.

I turned to look at him. The sight was absolutely terrifying. He was wearing a sterile glove and had a case of medical instruments set out on the bedside table.

“What are you doing?” I panicked.

“Nothing you didn’t already expect,” he said and dropped something into a metal dish. It landed with a clink.

I thought of that sharp prick that had woken me up, the pain just above my elbow. There was only one thing there.

“My birth control implant,” I guessed. “You removed it.”

“Of course I removed it.” He snapped off the glove and balled it up. He then wrapped a stretchy bandage around my upper arm, securing it just tight enough to seal the small incision he’d have made to remove the implant.

I’d removed enough of them to know the procedure well.

“You don’t need it anymore,” he continued.

That calmly delivered sentence was terrifying. He really planned on having children with me. With me. Nobody in their lives had ever shown me that level of commitment.

Commitment? He just married you, just made his men bow to you. What kind of commitment are you looking for? I had no answer for that.

“You didn’t think a medical professional should remove it? Or maybe you were too worried what they’d say about removing an implant from an unconscious woman?” Going on the defensive seemed the safest bet right now, when my body was still warm from his touch and my mind had softened toward the man who held my future in the palm of his hand.

Renato stood and leaned over me, smoothing the bandage and inspecting his handiwork. He was precise in all things, whether that was shooting someone perfectly between the eyes or carrying out minor medical procedures.

“Firstly, I didn’t ask a medical professional because no one but me will ever hurt you. I promise you that.”

“That is not as reassuring as you seem to think it is!” I interjected, prompting Renato to press a silencing finger against my lips.

“Secondly, you are no longer just some unconscious woman. You’re my wife.”

I twisted my head from his hand, electricity brewing in the pit of my belly. “Stop saying it like that.”

“Like what? Wife? You’re my wife, bambina. I think it has a nice ring to it.”

I swallowed my nerves and confusion. My arm didn’t hurt. He’d clearly injected me with local anesthetic. He moved around the bed toward the bathroom. I should hit him, or fight somehow, but my body was too languid to make the effort. He hadn’t even drugged me, just worn me out with sex and the longest, most emotional day of my life.

I stared at the bandage on my arm. I’d known this would happen, hadn’t I? He’d been clear that he needed an heir. It was literally his goal, and he made no secret of it. But I did have a secret.

My implant had been coming to an end, and one of the doctors on rotation encouraged me to sign up for a clinical trial testing a new birth control shot. The shot was good for three months, and I’d just gotten it a few weeks ago. So, while I hadn’t gotten around to taking out my old implant, I should be protected for another couple of months.

Still, my new husband was clearly serious about getting me pregnant as quickly as he could. It should scare me more than it did. Maybe my fear sensors were just burned out. Too much adrenaline had made me immune. I was numb. But I didn’t feel numb as I watched Renato head to the shower, pausing in the doorway to look back at me.

“You’re very calm about this,” he observed.

Crap.

I shrugged. “You warned me. Death, or marriage and kids with you. I chose you.”

“Yes, you did.”

He watched me for a moment longer, and I considered trying to look worried but dismissed the idea. I was a terrible actress. Instead, I pushed my hair back over my shoulder, where it slid right back like a waterfall.

Renato still watched me. “Are you sore? A shower could help,” he suggested, his gaze lingering over me.

“I’ll take one later.”

“Or you could take one now, with me,” he said quietly. He chuckled at my expression. “Are you really blushing after everything we did last night? I’d think a shower was on the tame end of the spectrum.”

I hated that he could read me so damn well. Was I really so transparent? Or had no one ever cared enough to try before?

“I can’t get the hole you made in my arm wet,” I snapped, sliding down in the bed and hiding my face in the pillow.

“Sure you can’t, bambina,” Renato smirked.

Thankfully, the shower came on a little later and the door closed. I blew out a long breath and rolled onto my back, staring at the beautifully corniced ceiling.

I brought my left hand up over my head and peered at my ring. It sparkled in the light that flooded through the wall of windows lining one side of the room.

My arm wasn’t the only place that bore Renato’s handiwork. Blood had crusted around my wedding ring, reminding me of the ceremony the night before. I’d have to clean it. It didn’t hurt that much, but I wasn’t someone who fussed over small cuts and scrapes, anyway.

I was more worried about the bug sitting in the planter in his study. I hadn’t heard from the cops again, but I knew they’d be in touch.

Maybe I should just tell Renato the truth? As soon as I thought it, I knew I couldn’t. This was a man who’d just cut my birth control implant out of my arm. He had no boundaries. His idea of right and wrong was completely different from mine. I had no clue how he’d react. I couldn’t risk it. I just had to play along with Detectives Vane and Whitely until I could figure out what to do. I needed a little damn time to think.

The shower shut off, and I jumped out of bed. My leg muscles protested wildly as I staggered out of the bedroom and down the hall toward the room I’d shared with Lucy. I noticed Sonny wasn’t around. I guessed that meant Renato would take the night shift. Who needed a prison guard when your own husband was on the job?

Vinny sat outside Lucy’s room. He jumped up when I came into sight and then whirled away from me, averting his eyes.

“Good morning, Mrs. De Sanctis,” he said gruffly.

“Good morning. It’s just Charlie,” I reminded him, wondering at his odd posture. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing at all, I just don’t think I should be…um… seeing you in that outfit, not that I was looking,” he mumbled.

I was wearing a silky soft nightgown with a lace back, part of the bridalwear given to me by Vito and his team. Right. Renato and his highhanded orders about what I could wear in front of his men.

“Sorry. It’s my fault. I won’t tell him if you don’t. Just let me in to see Lucy.” I waited impatiently as he unlocked the door.

Lucy was reading, and raised an eyebrow at me when I went inside and shut the door behind me.

‘Good morning,’ I muttered, knowing that Lucy had a whole lot to say, judging by her expression, but too distracted to give it much thought. I set about searching for the envelope in one of the drawers.

Lucy watched me with an unreadable expression. I found the envelope and folded it into my palm.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Sure, as much as a prisoner in the world’s most boring prison can be.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want a phone. I miss talking to my friends.” She turned to look out the window at the woods. The fall leaves had painted a blaze of oranges and reds in the trees beyond.

“I’m not sure you’ll get a phone, yet” I chewed my lip. “Maybe it’s a good time to think about what you want to do next.”

“Meaning?”

I sat opposite her. I’d been thinking about the topic since the end of summer, when most of Lucy’s classmates had gone on to study or work while she’d remained behind, stuck.

“Well, do you want to go to college, or maybe get a job? What do you want to do with your life?”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “You’re so naïve. You seriously think that either of us is going to be allowed to do anything we wanted to do? I’m sure my new brother-in-law is just looking for the right candidate to marry me off to next, and that will take care of the younger sister problem.”

A chill went through me at her confident words. “No. He wouldn’t. That was never on the table. He gave me his word he’d take care of you if I married him.”

“And Renato De Sanctis is the kind of man who keeps his word? Yeah, right.”

Renato’s confident voice spoke in my head. I always keep my word. Always. My word is my bond.

“That’s not going to happen, so just put it out of your head and think about what I asked. Do you want to study? Work? What do you want to do with your life?”

“What life?” Lucy exploded, whirling away from me.

She was so agitated, I wondered how she’d managed to keep it under control until now.

“We have no life. We died, and this is Hell.”

I shook my head. “Don’t be ridiculous. I did all of this so we could live.”

“Maybe I don’t want to live like this. Under the microscope of killers, waiting to see what they’ll do with us. No freedom. No space. No escape. That’s no life.”

“Life is what you make of it. Stop crying about the past; it’s gone. Focus on the future.”

“We have no future!” Lucy snapped, glaring daggers at me. “I can’t live like this.”

“You have no choice.” My tone sounded harsh, run ragged by the continued stress of the past week. “This is our reality, and we aren’t quitters, so get on with it.”

“That’s your advice? Just get on with it?”

“That’s what I’ve always done, isn’t it? Look after your sister, so I got on with it. Provide a roof and school and food for her, so I got on with it. Marry a mobster to keep us safe, so I got on with it.”

Slow, ironic clapping interrupted me. “Congratulations on being able to make yourself do horrible things.” Lucy’s eyes blazed with unshed tears. She was a ball of emotions, and I didn’t know how to help her.

I reached out for her arm, and she jerked away. I backed away and sighed. “I don’t have time for this right now. I’m taking a shower and getting on with my day.”

My sister stared at me for a long moment, as if she was disappointed at my response to her outburst, then shrugged. “Yes, wouldn’t want to keep the warden waiting.”

I couldn’t afford to get dragged into Lucy’s pity party. I was starving and needed a shower desperately. I could smell Renato all over me. I was sticky with his cum, and it made me feel debauched in a way I never had before. I left her there, stewing in anger and resentment. As time passed, it became harder and harder to communicate with her without fighting.

I hopped into the shower in my old room and washed as quickly as I could.

I shivered, running my hands over my body. Everything was so sensitive after his touch last night.

“You have nothing to feel ashamed of, little nurse. You’re my wife, before God and witnesses. Nothing we do together is wrong. Every time we touch, it’s holy, and nothing you think or feel can change that. My perfect, perfect wife.”

Just remembering the words – spoken as I’d come for the second time, my body stuck to his with sweat and both our cum – was enough to make me shudder. Those words perfectly fit the jigsaw of broken pieces inside me that had shattered during my childhood. That fact alone told me that my new husband did indeed see me, in all my repressed, tightly controlled glory. My perfect, perfect wife.

I headed downstairs, dressed in one of the borrowed leggings-and-sweater combos that Carmella had given me. At some point, I was going to have to get some new clothes.

The kitchen was crowded when I got there. Elio sat at the counter, and Sonny and Giada argued over the last bowl of some imported Italian cereal in the pantry.

Carmella turned a smile on me as I walked in. “Auguri.” This was the warmest she’d ever been with me. She pulled me into a hug. She was soft, like a cushion, and smelled of sugar cookies. I stayed longer in that embrace than was normal, but she didn’t say anything. She simply patted my hand when I finally leaned back.

“Thank you,” I murmured to her.

“Grazie. Thank you is grazie,” she encouraged.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to start giving Charlie language lessons against her will now?” Sonny teased the elderly housekeeper.

“She should speak the language of her husband. The language of her family.” Carmella tossed her head with the kind of energy that wasn’t going to be deterred.

“She’s right. When you go to Italy, it’ll be nice to be able to speak to the family.” Elio’s voice surprised me. He wasn’t exactly the chatty type.

I sat next to him, just as Carmella placed a cup of coffee in front of me. Will Renato really take me to Italy? I’d never even left New Jersey.

“Zio Salvatore is going to love you,” Giada called from the counter where she looked for a bowl.

“Salvatore?”

“Renato’s uncle on his mother’s side. He runs Napoli like Ren runs Atlantic City. He’s been waiting for happy news from this side of the world for years.”

“Happy news?” I took a sip of my coffee.

“Baby news,” Giada snorted, cradling her bowl of cereal victoriously.

Her words and the unexpected taste in my mouth sent the liquid up my nose. I snorted and coughed, choking on my mouthful. “What is this?” I asked.

“It’s decaf. Expectant mothers shouldn’t overindulge in caffeine. It’s not good for the baby,” Carmella tutted from the pantry.

“But I’m not pregnant!”

“Yet,” Giada added.

I ignored her. “I’m not even pregnant, so there’s no need to drink decaf. I need the caffeine. Please, give it to me, or I’m scaling a wall and heading for the nearest coffee shop.”

“Scaling a wall? No need for that here. Casa Nera is full of secrets…like hidden passages where you come out way down the road,” Giada smirked at me.

“Really?” I wondered.

“Really,” she confirmed.

“Giada, basta.” Elio’s snap made me jump.

“Don’t worry. I agreed to this farce. I’ll see it through,” I muttered and tried another sip of decaf. It wasn’t actually that bad.

Elio focused on a point over my shoulder. “You’re not the one I’m worried about.”

I twisted in my seat and spied Lucy lingering by the doorway. Carmella immediately went toward my younger sister and put her arm around her, ushering her into the kitchen with the energy of a mother hen.

“Lucy! I’ve been waiting for you. Today, we learn how to make bread.”

“You’re learning how to cook?” I asked.

“Why? Is it not allowed?” Lucy snapped back at me right away.

Our painful conversation upstairs circled my head.

Carmella patted Lucy’s hand. “Easy, cara.” The housekeeper caught my eye. “Lucy will be with me for a while.”

I nodded, gripping my coffee cup like my life depended on it, and made my way out of the kitchen. I needed some space.

I was watching TV later when someone knocked at the den door. I’d never had so much free time. I wanted to finish my program and work in a hospital, just like I’d told Renato, but I couldn’t deny it was nice to have a break. I hadn’t had proper time off in years.

Sonny poked his head into the room. “Just thought you should know some stuff arrived for you. You might want to be upstairs to direct where it goes,” he said cheerfully and disappeared.

I left the room and went to see what the hell he was talking about.

Casa Nera staff rushed up and down the stairs, hauling up boxes upward and returning empty-handed. Their destination was the new room I was to share with Renato. I hurried after them, pausing on the threshold as I took in the scene before me. Boxes of all shapes and sizes had been put on the bed, the floor, basically any surface they could fit on. It was quite the sight to see hulking men in dark suits, with earpieces, trying to balance five shoeboxes at once.

“What is all this?” I asked.

“Deliveries from the boutiques in La Leonora,” Sonny said and grinned. “Boss knows how to go all out.” He looked proud, like buying more than a year’s worth of clothes for someone was normal.

I sent everyone away as soon as all the packages were in the room. I felt bad enough they’d to go out of their way to carry them all upstairs. I could have done it alone, but it would have taken me the better part of a day.

I lingered in the doorway for a long moment, feeling like an intruder. An imposter. The pretend wife.

“Nice haul.” Giada peered over my shoulder. “Ren has good taste, though a little conservative, but maybe you like that. To be real, he’s not letting you out of the house in anything too short or revealing. You just have to accept that.”

“I don’t like showy stuff,” I murmured my gaze tracing over the well-known designer brands emblazoned across the shiny bags.

“Of course you don’t. He gets you. It’s almost kind of sweet.”

“It is not,” I argued back faintly. I couldn’t even fathom the cost of everything in the room. It was the kind of extravagance I had no experience with. Never mind buying designer clothes; I usually struggled to justify buying new clothes and not getting something from Goodwill.

“Something Renato De Sanctis will never be is sweet,” I continued, edging into the room. I peered inside one of the bags and looked up at Giada. “It’s shoes.”

“Why are you whispering? Are you scared they’ll hear you?” she replied in a loud mock whisper.

She reached into the box and opened it. A beautiful pair of flat, chestnut-brown leather riding boots emerged. Perfect for the weather, and so classic and beautiful, I had to touch the smooth surface.

Giada handed them to me and then turned and glanced at the rest of the room, packed with boxes and dress bags. “Okay, I suggest this. I’ll open, and you sort. Deal?”

“Is this really all for me? Maybe we should check before we open it all?”

Giada frowned at me for a moment and then laughed. “Oh, Charlie, I seriously never know what you’re going to say. No shit, it’s for you. You are wife of the boss now; you can’t keep walking around in Carmella’s old leggings. Relax and let your husband spend his money on you. You deserve it, and you need to internalize that thought.”

“Great, the criminal is giving me self-help advice now?” I muttered.

Giada cackled. “I sure am. Now help me, or I’m taking those boots as payment.”

I gripped the boots to my chest, and she laughed again.

“That’s the spirit. Learn to be selfish for once in your life. There aren’t any prizes in Heaven for being the most self-sacrificing. That’s just a myth.”

I rolled my eyes, but a sense of excitement ran through me that I couldn’t deny. Just the idea of having my own clothes again was more than appealing, but beautiful, soft, unworn clothes? As ashamed as I might be to admit it, I was excited.

We dug into the boxes.

I found a note inside a soft bag full of lingerie. The folded piece of paper was like a grenade, exploding my tentative happiness. Giada had gone for snacks, and I was tackling the more personal items alone. The underwear sets I’d already unpacked were beautiful in a way I’d never known underwear could be. The voice in my head that I recognized as one of the sisters at Mercy Home was immediately critical. What a waste of money. But the woman inside me, the one who never bought herself anything new, loved it.

My hand closed around the piece of paper at the bottom of the satin bag. I pulled it out.

Who would put a note in here? My fingers shook as I unfolded it.

“Okay, I know I went for food, but I brought margaritas,” Giada sang loudly as she sailed into the room holding a tray with a huge jug of pink liquid and two glasses.

“What’s wrong?” She stopped immediately, taking in my stricken expression.

“Nothing,” I lied, feeling sick.

“It’s clearly not nothing.” Giada sighed and set down the tray, pouring two glasses of pink margaritas. She handed me one. “I’m just going to assume you found the bag of toys.”

I was gulping down my drink and nearly choked. “Toys?”

She grinned wickedly and clinked her glass against mine. “Cheers to men who want to fill every hole on their wives at once but would shoot any other man who dared to touch her.”

Fill every hole? Embarrassment flooded through me, and I clapped a hand over my face. Then I remembered the note in my pocket, and I jumped on the chance to distract my mind. “Show me.”