Shattered Vows: Chapter 28

“We get married tomorrow.” He threw his suit jacket on a hook and loosened his tie as we walked into the penthouse. His voice made me jump, we’d been silent for so long.

He moved quickly, slipping his shoes off and not making eye contact with me at all.

“Bastian?” When he didn’t look my way and started down the hall to his room, I yelled, “Bastian, what the hell?”

“What the hell?” He whirled around, molten hot rage brewing in his gaze, singeing me as he approached. He got right up to my face and he grabbed my hair at the nape of my neck. “I said, we get married tomorrow. You and me. My fiancée. Tomorrow, you’ll be my wife. Do you understand?”

I searched his eyes. “You have the audacity to be like this? Mad and all pissy?”

His jaw ticked.

“You have the audacity when you had that woman on your arm whispering things to you all night. You laughed at her jokes. You nestled into her neck. I saw you. And you even said she knew what she was doing before you fucked me.” I poked his shoulder as the grip in my hair got tighter and tighter.

“None of that matters, ragazza. We marry tomorrow and that means you’re not spreading your legs for anyone after that.”

We both stood there breathing fast, stewing, our furious gazes locked on one another. If I’d lit a candle, it would have been blown out by our anger and jealousy flying through the room.

“All about what you own, huh? Am I your property now?” I didn’t give him time to answer. “Fuck you, Sebastian Armanelli.”

With that, I smacked his hand away from my hair and stormed past him into my bedroom. I slammed the door and screamed.

He didn’t come after me like I thought he might. I heard his door close not long after.

Good.

He could rot on his side of the penthouse for all I cared.

Except, all night, I felt like I was wasting away. My mind ran through every scenario and then stumbled upon the most pressing one.

I was getting married tomorrow to a man I didn’t love without friends, family, a dress, or even shoes.

Quick decisions would have to be made.

“Right about that, Grandma.”

I probably drifted to sleep, trying to conjure up a way for her to be haunting me in my bedroom so I could throw something at her but none of it happened. She didn’t even come to me in a dream.

I woke and read my horoscope, the Sagittarius in me ready to be stubborn and vengeful toward Bastian for dropping our wedding date on me without even a night of planning. I knew we would be going to the courthouse but I pulled a white baggy t-shirt from a drawer and slipped it on over a bikini. I looked like I was going to the beach, not going to get married.

When I walked down the hallway, he had breakfast on the island for me. Those stupidly good crepes sat there folded perfectly covered in a delicate sprinkling of powdered sugar.

He washed dishes, suit on, completely ready for the madness we were about to go through with.

When he turned and scanned me, I was ready for the fight. Sebastian Armanelli was going to come out of his shell and tell me to go change.

I braced for it as I sat at the counter.

He grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and slowly poured it into my grandmother’s plants, circling the stems to make sure it was distributed evenly.

The control he had in the daylight was out of this world.

At night, though, we both knew he had none.

“So, our appointment to sign papers is in two hours.”

I rolled my eyes and took the fork he’d left me. Nourishment might help get me through this day.

As I took a bite, he reached above the refrigerator and grabbed the lighter. He lit a stick of my incense and then sat down next to me as if this was totally normal.

“So, I’m sorry about last night.” He breathed out.

My fork clattered onto the plate. “What?”

“I’m sending mixed signals.” His eyes were milk chocolate and molasses now. Sweet and accommodating Bastian was back.

“You’re telling me!”

He cleared his throat. “I should have given you more warning about the marriage ceremony today, also.”

“If we’re just going to the courthouse, it’ll be fine,” I grumbled, not quite sure how to react to the change in him.

“I can take you to the terminals today. I’ll show you my plans.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You fucked me last night, Bastian.”

He nodded. “I’m aware, Morina. It shouldn’t have happened. You need a clear head when you make decisions about these shares, and I’m not giving that to you.”

“Oh, God.” I rolled my eyes. So, we were back to business transactions and professional relations. “Sex isn’t going to muddle my brain all up, you idiot. I can fuck you and keep our business separate.”

He stared at me, then swore when his phone lit up.

“Is someone calling you right now? Do you have it on silent?”

He slid it back in his pocket. “Yeah, sorry.”

“You can answer your calls. I don’t care.” I shrugged. He was ever so present when he was with me and for what? We were just business associates.

“I do,” he countered. “You deserve my full attention when I’m here. And I’m serious about this conversation. We should right the ship and try to be friends through this transaction.”

“Okay.” I nodded. All of that made sense except that somehow my brain couldn’t get past him putting his businesses on hold for me by silencing his phone. Something didn’t quite compute and yet I couldn’t figure out what.

But Bastian sat there, alert and on point this morning, making complete sense while I was a jumbled mess. Someone had really slept much better than I had. He looked refreshed, cleaned up, and completely dedicated to what he was saying.

“I’ll go change after I eat this.” I dug into the crepes, not wanting to show that I was such a mess. I focused on the way the sugar melted in my mouth, the fluff of the thin pancake and how its taste blended perfectly with the strawberry jelly he’d folded in.

“Morina.”

I glanced his way when he sighed my name. His hand was fisted; his jaw flexed.

“Yes?” I stared at his dark eyes boring into me. Our chemistry clashed around the room. Did he feel the pull and the need like I did? Was it just a one way street?

I shot up with the half-eaten food still on my plate and went to the sink. He didn’t answer after saying my name, so I changed the subject. “I’m guessing someone will be outside those courtroom doors to take our picture today, correct?”

He stared at my plate. “You didn’t eat all your crepes.”

“Yes.” I dragged out the word. “I’m full.”

His brow furrowed. “You moaned like you loved it a second ago. Was something wrong with it?”

My cheeks heated. Sometimes the fact that I loved his cooking so much I got lost in the taste of it was straight up embarrassing. “It was fine.”

“Bring it here then and let me try it.”

“What?” I glanced at the food in my hand. Then set it on the counter. “No. That’s not… I’m not eating it because I’m trying to not appear bloated for cameras today.”

“You what?” He stood, his chair screeching behind him before he rounded the counter.

“They’ll put all our pictures in the tabloids and I don’t want to look like I ate–”

He picked up the fork and stabbed the rest of the crepe onto it while a string of Italian flew from his mouth. His other hand went to the nape of my neck. “Open, ragazza.”

“Bast–”

He pushed past his name with the fork and the food was in my mouth before I could protest. I didn’t. The taste was absolutely delightful as always. I grabbed his wrist and pushed it back to remove the fork though.

I shook my head at him as I chewed.

He watched my mouth the whole time and then pulled me close, his hand combing down my locks. “I want you this way. Full. Bright eyed and free. Don’t change anything. Not your clothes. Not your hair. Nothing. We go in twenty, huh?”

With that, he released me and disappeared to his room.

He left me speechless, my heart pitter pattering over and over again loud enough to drown out all my reservations about the day.

I flew back into my room and cut the thread of a bracelet of flattened stones. I pulled most off the string and then retied it just big enough to fit a man’s finger.

Sebastian Armanelli would wear my ring too. He might belong to his family as Bastian, the man who accommodated most, but Sebastian with his commands and his possessiveness was pulling me to him and like Grandma had said in her letter, I was making a quick decision to figure out where he’d take me.

The ceremony was fast, most likely because we both stood there with our hands folded in front of the judge, not willing to recite vows. None of those things mattered. We were crossing Ts and dotting I’s to make sure I’d get the shares so I could sell to him.

As we walked out of the courthouse, flashing lights bombarded us. Questions flew from every direction as a hoard of paparazzi descended upon us. Even if Bastian hadn’t cared, I was happy I’d changed into a flowy white beach dress.

Someone had tipped them off. Bastian pulled me close and pushed through the crowd and suddenly suits surrounded us, escorting us to the Rolls Royce. Bastian’s hand was on my back as he made sure I got in the car safely. Then he turned and actually smiled at the men and women photographing us.

“Morina Armanelli is beautiful, isn’t she?” He waited as they threw out more questions. His voice carried through the crowd. “She’s beautiful and she’s mine. Now and forever. Make sure you write the last part everywhere.” Then, he folded into the seat beside me.

The security got into another SUV. As our driver maneuvered the car away from the crowd, I breathed out.

“Jesus. That was all a bit over the top.” I turned to Bastian. “Especially you.”

Bastian didn’t respond. Instead, he told the driver to go to Tropical Oil.

“Guess we’re right on schedule.” I turned the ring I’d made on my thumb over and over again. I hadn’t given it to him in the courthouse, not sure what to say in front of a judge who pretty much knew this was a marriage of convenience.

“It’s the perfect way to get the word out, Morina. You’re an Untouchable now. The media will tell the syndicates and families.”

“Right.” I shoved my hand into the pockets of my dress, not sure I wanted to give him the ring on my thumb at all anymore.

“It was an honorary title for a very long time. In my world, it still is.”

“Did your parents marry?” I asked, not really sure I wanted to know but he talked about his world like I might have something to learn about.

“My mother…” He sighed. “Yes. My mother loved my father and agreed to marrying him only after a few months. He wasn’t a good husband but she was a good wife. She even called my father mi amore on her last day alive.”

“So, they loved each other?”

“Yes. And that’s probably what killed her.” Pain laced his words like maybe a part of him had died with her too.

People left and we left them too in death. It wasn’t always a choice. I reminded myself of that every day.

“She loved you too though. I can tell.”

“She should have loved herself enough to leave. And she should have taken us with her,” he ground out. “Sometimes, it pays to be bold and go against the people you love most.”

Did he truly believe that? “Have you ever done that? It seems you do all you can for the people you love, including running the family business.”

“I killed my father, Morina.” He dropped each word as he stared at me, the darkness growing in his eyes. “I took his life to bleed out the filth in my family.”

My mouth opened but I didn’t respond. I tried to.

No words came.

Sitting across from a man who killed his father robs you of your voice as fear snakes through you. Sitting across from a murderer that you think you understand and most likely care about morphs your soul into something you’re not ready to face.

I changed as I sat in the car that day on the way to see oil terminals and farms. My body vibrated with fear but also arousal, adrenaline, and a need to comfort him even if I feared him.

This man had just married me and confessed one of his darkest sins without hesitation. Now he searched my face, looking for my reaction.

He shook his head at my silence. “You’re stunned. You should be. You like to play, ragazza. You think sex with me and marriage to me isn’t dangerous or serious.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from arguing with him.

“You shouldn’t goad a man like me. I say that only to you because you seem to know just what match to light to set me on fire. I don’t want to kill again for the good of my family.”

“Are you threatening my life, Sebastian?” The words came out so quietly, I wasn’t sure he heard.

My body instantly recoiled at her question. Didn’t she know me by now? “Piccola ragazza, you think so little of me that it actually pains me. I’m never going to hurt you. I’d kill for you. You’re my family now. Your life is precious, love. It’s safe with me. But the men around you? I’d put a bullet through their skulls faster than you could murmur daddy.”

“That’s over the top, Bastian.” I couldn’t stop myself from saying it.

“It’s the bottom line. We’re married now.”

“Speaking of…” I turned the ring on my thumb again before sliding it off and holding it out to him. “It’s just one of my bracelets. I made it smaller but it stretches and the beads are made of black tourmaline. It’s supposed to block bad energy and protect. It also gives you strength.”

He stared at it in my hand, his face contorted, like he was confused, disgusted.

I pulled it back and fisted my hand around it. “I didn’t have anything else. It was a quick thought–”

His hand snapped out like a viper and snatched my fist back toward him. He tapped my knuckle. “Open.”

God, when he said that word my body reacted in a way it shouldn’t. I lifted my fingertips and he took the ring.

He turned it over before he removed the gold ring from his left ring finger and replaced it on the right. Then, he rolled my flattened beads down his finger until they sat snuggly where they should, showing he was a married man.

We both stared at that marker, that symbol and then he murmured, “My mother would have done anything for my father. I didn’t understand that because he never would have returned the favor. She used to say if you care for somebody, you do it even if they don’t care for you. I think I’m starting to understand.”

My heart hurt for the boy who’d tried to understand and for the man who now lived with the boy’s pain. “To love and to be loved just the same is a hard thing to find.”

“Yes, ragazza.” He took a deep breath and gulped. “You know my father gave her an ultimatum and she beat him at his own game. He said you leave me, you die. She did exactly that but didn’t give him the glory of doing it himself. It was for the best though. Marriage to him was a death sentence in it and of itself.”

I took his hand and tapped the ring on it. “Marriage to you won’t be the same. I know that.”

He squeezed my hand. “No. It will be protection, Morina. Protection.”

I took a deep breath and went with what I was thinking. “I’m sorry she was never really given a choice to leave him. As a boy, that must have been painful.”

Bastian took to turning the new ring on his finger. I hoped it gave him strength.

We pulled up to the oil terminals. The metal beams and massive storage crates and tanks along the coastline were a good reminder of why we’d come here.

We showed our IDs, then walked the property. Bastian pointed out where they’d expand if I didn’t sell him the shares. “If you decide to sell to Ronald or keep them for yourself, know that they will be pushing government funding here. They want to expand into the city. It would be a great thing for the community in the short term. More jobs, more money, the potential of a few grants here and there. You’d solidify partnerships with oil refineries too.”

He began with what I could gain, accommodating as always. He wanted to give me a fair choice.

I was starting to see why this man accommodated everyone but himself first.

“Great. And why don’t we want to do this?” I prompted.

“Like the UK, we could morph all these terminals to clean energy. We can repurpose the farms, and the whole plant can be lucrative without expanding into the coastline. This would require more workers but it would create more energy and an increase in profit after the first nine months.”

“You go over this some in the file.” I nodded.

“Yes. It’s easier to see though.” He smirked at me like he knew my attention span and that file didn’t get along.

“You’re right.” I smiled as a man passed us.

He eyed us, then changed course, coming over. “You’re Bastian Armanelli right?”

Bastian didn’t answer but his stance changed. He moved a little in front of me and looked the man up and down. “Eyes everywhere. Two guns trained on you now. Don’t try anything you shouldn’t.”

The man sucked on his teeth. “Seems you know when you see a family man, huh? My Irish blood isn’t here to bleed out. I’m just here to tell you, some of us want what you want. My family loves this city and we’ll be there to back you if the partnership comes along.”

With that, he backed away, keeping his face to us until he went out of sight behind a tank.

“What the hell?” I whipped toward Bastian. “Two guns? What are you talking about?”

“It’s security, ragazza.”

“Do I have two guns on me?” I screeched, my heart beating louder than drums in a marching band.

“You will always have a sniper watching out for you if that’s what you’re asking. I won’t risk your safety again.”

“You’re being overprotective. Actually, you’re insane. The food truck was one time.”

He turned to the car. “One time was enough.”

I hurried after him in my combat boots and white summer dress. The match we made would have been an iconic picture. I could picture the tabloids now: The suit and his hippie wife arguing. They’d come up with something catchier, of course, but the point remained. We looked out of place together.

I didn’t even argue with him on the way home. Instead I asked, “So, when I start working at my food truck tomorrow–”

He tried to cut me off but I held up my hand.

“Tomorrow because you said I would be protected after we said I do. Will there be someone watching me then?”

“Yeah, the fucking paparazzi and everyone else. You can’t work the food truck right now.”

“I want to go back to work.”

“No.”

“Are you joking right now? Don’t you have to work?”

“Yes, and you can stay at the penthouse while I do it.”

I crossed my arms. “I’m so happy this isn’t until death do us part.”

“Are you so sure?” he threw back. “Maybe I won’t divorce your smart ass and you can deal with me for all of time.”

“What wonderful vows. I’m so proud to be your wife. I should recite every vow possible just so we’re clear.” I stomped my big boot on the car’s floor. “I vow to stand beside you only for, what, four months and something days? I vow to have only myself to hold during that time and never you.”

“Don’t forget sickness and health.”

A giggle burst out of me. The vows were always a ridiculous aspect of marriage in my opinion but ours could be so twisted.

“In sickness, I vow to lock you out of my room so I don’t catch it too. For richer or poorer, well, we know you’re rich and I’m poor until the end of this, so do with that what you will.”

Bastian’s face finally cracked into a smile, then broke into a laugh.

“I vow to make you as rich as you need to be, ragazza.” He chuckled. “You can have and hold me any time you like too.”

We both laughed at that, knowing we had a twisted sexual relationship at that point.

My head fell to his shoulder as our laughter sobered. “I really do want to vow one thing though.”

He nodded and smoothed my hair, something he was starting to do a lot more.

I cleared my throat. “I really do vow to trust you, because I believe in what you’re doing. I hope you know that.”

He turned and kissed the top of my head. It was platonic, soft, like a friend greeting another. Still, I wanted it to be more and I probably imagined it was more. “My vow is to protect you, ragazza. Even if it’s from myself.”