Merciless Vows

MERCILESS VOWS THE SEVEN DEADLY SINACORES BOOK ONE AIDÈE JAIMES Merciless Vows The Seven Deadly Sinacores, Book 1 by Aidèe Jaimes copyright @2023 by Aidèe Jaimes All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied, reproduced, or shared without written consent from the publisher. TRIGGER WARNING: As with many dark romances, readers should expect explicit, dubious consent scenes, as well as gore and violence. Cover Design by: Kim Wilson at Kiwi Cover Design Image by Michelle Lancaster: INSTAGRAM @lanefotograf www.michellelancaster.com Model: Reeff Edited by: Midnight Library Copyedited by: R.C. Craig CONTENTS Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Epilogue About Books By Aidèe Jaimes PROLOGUE CARINA Something borrowed, something red. If he finds out who you really are, consider yourself dead. I stare at the crimson roses my father sent me. Thank you, the note stuck between the flowers read. Thank you. Not congratulations, or here's to the first day of the rest of your life. Not even a best wishes. He didn’t write any of those things, because ‘thank you’ is the only appropriate thing to say when someone gives up their life for you. I pluck one of the flowers and walk to the freestanding mirror sitting against the wall. Only days ago, I looked upon the vision my sister made in this wedding gown. The ivory satin was painstakingly decorated with lace, pearls, and crystals. The delicate veil an import from Italy. Tailor-made for her the day she agreed to be handed over to one of the most ruthless kings of the New York underworld. She was the payment he demanded for a debt my father could not afford. Then she ran. Pain lances through my palm, and I glance down to the rose I’m fisting tightly. Its thorns pierce into my skin. Blood trickles along stem and drips onto the pristine fabric of the dress I now wear, staining it crimson. It’s almost poetic, seeing the way my lifeblood spreads. It’s the price I pay for being the identical twin of my father’s favorite daughter. The curse I bear for loving them both. Luca Sinacore will not take kindly to deceit. He’ll consider it a betrayal. A default on a loan that must be repaid one way or another. The terms were clear. My sister as his dutiful bride or my father’s blood on his blade. Thing is, the very docile and submissive nature that makes Alma the wife Luca desires is the same thing that made her run. Like a little lamb who realized the lion would eat her alive if she remained. A single tear rolls down my cheek. The only one I’ll allow myself to shed. All my life, I’ve known a fairy-tale ending wasn’t for someone like me. That doesn’t mean I don’t want it. The husband who would love me till death do us part. Someone who would care for me when I become ill, want babies with me, give me their heart and soul. Now, instead of marrying the prince of my dreams, I’ll be tied to a beast who’s already made his disdain for me clear. I’ll have to pretend I don’t hate him as fiercely as he does me. And I’ll have to pretend to be as submissive as my sister. Can I really keep up such a ruse? Damn it, Alma. For being identical twins, we couldn’t possibly be more different. I grind my teeth as I imagine her alone and afraid. Wondering where the hell she went. Well, wherever she is, she’s safer than she would be here. That’s why I have to do it. If I don’t take her place, he will not only kill my father, but he’ll hunt her down and kill her too. Of course, if he finds out I’m not Alma, I’ll be the first one dead. I can’t let that happen. No big deal, right? All I have to do is pretend I’m everything I’m not. The wedding planner’s assistant reflects in the mirror as she enters the room. “Are you ready, Miss Di Persia?” I wipe my tear and straighten my spine. “Yes.” She hands me the bouquet of white roses, her movement faltering when she spots the blood on my dress. “You’re bleeding!” Bending over, she pulls out pins from a pocket and begins to gather the material. When she’s done, the stain is completely concealed. How apropos. “Thank you, Selena.” And don’t worry about where the blood came from. It’s the least of the pain I’m sure to feel. She hooks her arm out toward me. “Shall we?” I’m taken to the Hope Trinity Catholic Church half an hour away from the house. The driver opens the limousine door for me, and I step out to find my father is waiting for me at the intricately carved double doors of the chapel. He flicks his gaze to the man standing by the vehicle. Luca’s man. “Alma, you look stunning,” he says, bringing me close to him. Placing a kiss on my forehead, he whispers, “Thank you.” There aren’t enough thank yous in the world to repay what I’m doing for him. If only he’d kept his word and stayed away from the criminals who promise riches in exchange for loyalty, when all they actually give is pain and death. But I don’t say that. Instead, I nod and hook my arm through his. “Let’s get this over with.” We go up the marble steps to the double doors that are opened by the two guards posted. An impeccably dressed man wearing a black-on-black suit and an earpiece escorts us through the main foyer, toward the hall where the ceremony will take place. My heart beats louder in