Author/Uploaded by AJ Wolf
Devious Vows Copyright © 2023 AJ Wolf Cover Design: Graphic Escapist Formatting: AJ Wolf Graphics Editing: Rumi Khan All Rights Reserved. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written permission of the author, except in the case of...
Devious Vows Copyright © 2023 AJ Wolf Cover Design: Graphic Escapist Formatting: AJ Wolf Graphics Editing: Rumi Khan All Rights Reserved. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying or other electronic or mechanical methods, without prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations used in a book review. This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, plots, and incidents are a product of the author's imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is coincidental. The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of all word marks, products, music/lyrics and brands mentioned in this work of fiction. For more information: [email protected] Content Warning Cheating (NOT between main characters), some blood/torture, expeditionism (sex in public places) You’ve always been mine. — TABLE OF CONTENTS COPYRIGHT CONTENT WARNING EPIGRAPH PROLOGUE CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN CHAPTER FIFTEEN CHAPTER SIXTEEN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN CHAPTER EIGHTEEN CHAPTER NINETEEN CHAPTER TWENTY CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR COMING SOON MORE BY AJ WOLF ABOUT AJ WOLF PrOlOgue I remember it like it was yesterday. The day I met Remy Oliver Luciano. Truthfully, I had known him years prior—did my best to avoid him and his crude behavior—but this particular day was when I really met him. Snow dusted the yard, frozen footprints and a snowman sat outside the kitchen window from the day before. Christmas lights still hung along the stair banister, twinkling around decorative pine cones that smelled like cinnamon. The new year had just begun and I was stilling living off the high of the holidays. Because my father works closely with the Capo Famiglia as his consigliere, it wasn’t uncommon for us to go to the Lucianos’ for their over-the-top parties and gatherings, so when my mother had laid out one of my prettiest gowns and told me to get ready for dinner I thought nothing of it. When she fussed over my hair to tame my curls I rolled my eyes and allowed her to. And when she told me to add gloss to my lips I did so without argument. I’d spent countless hours on the Luciano estate, I knew their property as well as my own. I played with the youngest Luciano, Delaney, who was only a few years younger than me. I spent my summers reading books and skipping rocks in the back pond with the oldest Luciano, Gavino. Capo Famiglia was always kind to me despite his reputation, and his wife spent every Tuesday at brunch with my mother. The only Luciano I didn’t spend a lot of time with was Remy, the oldest legitimate child of Capo Famiglia and the future Capo Famiglia. Where Gavino was kind and comfortable to be around, Remy was moody and dark like a storm cloud. He had a weight on his shoulders that he carried since the day he was born, a future made for him before he had yet to live. He was foreboding and in the few interactions I had been forced to have with him, intimidating. He was cold to anyone he didn’t deem important enough to let into his world; he was exactly what you’d expect the future Mafia boss to be. And someone I had zero interest in being around. The announcement came in the middle of dinner. It had taken me years to ever want to eat beef Wellington again after that. I still remember the way my heart had stopped, how I’d dropped my silverware, the way my cup had spilled my sparkling cider across the pristine white tablecloth. I can still feel the tears that had clogged my throat when I’d politely excused myself from the room and how loud my chunky heeled shoes had sounded as I ran toward the pond the second I was out of sight. But what I remember most, what I can feel most vividly, was how he looked at me. “We are happy to announce that Remy Luciano and Beverly Esposito are arranged to be married after Beverly’s twenty-first birthday.” Everyone had cheered. Everyone smiled and congratulated. Everyone but me. Everyone but Remy. The look he had given me was enough to haunt my nightmares for weeks after. So dark, so angry, so disappointed. That’s what hurt the most back then. Knowing that I wasn’t what he wanted, that having to marry me was disappointing. Not even the comfort of the pond could give me solace that night. My hands and toes had nearly frozen I sat out there so long, my tears clinging to my icy cheeks. If it hadn’t been for the soft glow of the solar lights, I never would have seen the black swan near the edge of it, her long neck curled as she watched me sob on the shore. It was atypical to see them so early in the season, atypical to see them at all around the area. But I didn’t care about any of that because for a moment I had forgotten about the arrangement watching her large, beautiful feathers in the dark. I sat in awe of her for longer than I can even remember now, my skin covered in gooseflesh and my nose numb to the cold. I don’t know what had made me do it, but with freezing fingers I inched closer to the water’s edge, my arm stretched, fingers reaching to touch her smooth feathers. That’s when he had shown up. With his brooding eyes and angry touch he had yanked me back, effectively scaring off the swan in a swarm of splashing water and feathers. His touch had brought me back to reality, one I didn’t want to be in, and I lost the last of my composure.