The Devil's Vow

The smile disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

The man walked through the mansion's front doors without looking back.

I stepped away from the window.

My heart pounded so loudly I could barely hear my own thoughts.

Minutes later...

The bedroom door unlocked.

The same woman entered again.

"This way," she said quietly.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You don't have a choice."

I folded my arms.

"Then you'll have to drag me."

A flicker of sympathy crossed her face.

"I hope you don't make them do that."

She stepped aside, leaving the doorway open.

After a long silence, I walked out.

The hallway stretched farther than I could see. Marble floors reflected the light from enormous chandeliers, while portraits of unfamiliar faces watched me from the walls.

Every door we passed was closed.

Every window overlooked the same iron gates.

This place wasn't a home.

It was a prison pretending to be a palace.

The woman stopped outside a pair of massive wooden doors.

She knocked once.

"They're waiting."

Before I could ask who "they" were, the doors slowly opened.

A long dining table filled the room.

At the head sat an older man with silver hair and a sharp suit.

Beside him...

Was the stranger.

His black suit looked perfectly pressed, as though nothing had happened.

As though he hadn't destroyed my life.

His gray eyes met mine.

He didn't smile this time.

"Sit," the older man ordered.

"I'll stand."

He chuckled.

"You have your mother's stubbornness."

I froze.

"How do you know my mother?"

He ignored the question.

"My name is Vittorio Moretti."

The name meant nothing to me.

"It should," he replied calmly.

"Our families have known each other for decades."

"My family has never mentioned you."

"They were hoping they never would."

Confusion twisted inside me.

"What do you want from me?"

Vittorio folded his hands on the table.

"Peace."

I laughed.

"You kidnapped me."

"Because your father left me no other choice."

"My father would never—"

"He broke an agreement."

I slammed my hands on the table.

"Stop talking about my father like you know him!"

Silence filled the room.

Finally, the young man stood.

He walked toward me with slow, measured steps.

He was taller than I'd remembered.

Close enough that I could see the scar running along his jaw.

"My name is Dante Moretti," he said.

"You've already taken everything from me."

"No."

His voice was calm.

"We haven't."

He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and placed a folded document on the table.

I stared at it.

"What is it?"

"Your future."

Slowly, I unfolded the paper.

At the top, in elegant black letters, were the words:

Marriage Contract

My stomach dropped.

"No."

I looked up at them.

"No."

Vittorio's expression didn't change.

"The ceremony is in forty-eight hours."

I tore the contract in half and let the pieces fall to the floor.

"I'm never marrying him."

For the first time...

Dante spoke again.

"You think this is your choice."

His voice was quiet.

"But the vows were made long before either of us were born."