Wicked vows, p.1
Wicked Vows, page 1
Wicked Vows Copyright © 2025 Glenna Maynard
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual people, alive or dead, business, establishments, locals or events is entirely coincidental. Any reference to real events, business, organizations or locals is intended only to give the fiction a sense of realism and authenticity. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means – electronic, mechanical, photographic (photocopying), recording, or otherwise – without prior permission in writing from the author.
Cover Design: CT Cover Creations
Contents
Dedication
Wicked Vows
Dear Reader,
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight
9. Chapter Nine
10. Chapter Ten
11. Chapter Eleven
12. Wrapped In Leather
13. Bullet for My Sweetheart
14. About Glenna
15. 31 Days of Trick or Treat Authors
.
For my spooky, spicy book besties.
Wicked Vows
Nico Moretti is as cruel and powerful as he is devilishly handsome.
Everyone knows he murdered his first wife for her inheritance.
He’s also the man my sister is supposed to marry.
Until she betrays him by running off with one of our father’s men.
Leaving me to take her place by Nico’s side at the head of the Moretti Empire.
I’m too young for him, but I have no choice.
My father demands it, and the life of my traitorous sister depends on these wicked vows.
I do.
These two words cement my fate.
I know my duty is to provide my new husband with a child.
What I don’t expect is to enjoy it so much or to fall for him while being haunted by the ghost of his previous wife.
Wicked Vows is a standalone age gap, gothic, mafia romance.
Dear Reader,
This is a gothic dark mafia romance about a marriage of contract. This story contains death, ravishing, and breeding. You’ve been warned.
Happy reading.
Glenna
Chapter One
“Tomorrow is the beginning of everything, Odd one,” Lynette tells me, using her nickname for me.
I take a sip of the wine she stole before the servants cleared the bottle from the dinner table.
“Aren’t you scared?” Everyone has heard the stories about the man my sister is promised to in a marriage of contract. Nico Moretti. As devilishly handsome as he is cruel. They say he murdered his first wife for her inheritance, and my beloved sister is engaged to him as part of some business deal our father brokered. Like she’s merely chattel.
“Nervous.” She runs her brush through my dark hair as she used to do when she wanted to play beauty salon when we were kids. “You should wear your hair down.”
I twist away from the mirror of my vanity. “No one will pay attention to me. It’s your big day.”
“I’m going to miss sharing a room with you.” She playfully tugs on my hair.
“I’ll come visit as soon as you’re back from your honeymoon.”
My beautiful sister, who is like daylight compared to dark when standing next to me with her pale blonde hair and fair skin, gets this wistful, almost dopey expression on her face.
“What?”
“Nothing. I was merely thinking about how strange my life will be after tonight.”
I scrunch my nose. “Strange? What do you mean?” I take another sip of the wine, making a sour face. I stare into the cup wondering if it’s gone bad or something. This last drink tasted oddly bitter.
“Different. I meant different.” She sighs and hands me the brush, abandoning my hair to pilfer through our closet once more. She tosses a swimsuit on the top of her suitcase before zipping it up. “I love you, Odd one.”
“You say it like you’re never going to see me again. Do you really think the rumors about him are true? Surely Father wouldn’t have agreed for you to marry a monster?” I let out a heavy yawn, struggling to keep my eyes open. I’m so tired all the sudden. I put my palm to my mouth, stifling another yawn.
“I guess we’ll find out soon enough. Get some sleep.” She places her suitcase by our balcony doors. “We have an early day.”
“Night.” I flip off my bedside light and slip under my covers.
I go to sleep thinking about the first time either of us ever laid eyes on the man my sister will call husband.
Nico. His face was plastered all over the news. His wife, an heiress of an ungodly fortune, had been murdered. He was the number one suspect but was never charged.
I remember thinking he was beautiful and not fully understanding just how dangerous he was or how he’d later become gravely important to our survival.
I awaken to my mother shaking my shoulders. “Wake up, Odette,” her frantic tone echoes in my ear.
I blink slowly and wipe the creases of my eyes. I’m so groggy. I glance at the clock on my nightstand and blink again. How is it two in the evening? Why didn’t my alarm wake me? I set it, didn’t I?
“I’m awake,” I mutter as I let out a heavy yawn.
“Where’s your sister?” she hisses as I scoot up, resting my back against the headboard.
“Which one?”
Slap. Her palm connects with my cheek.
Tears sting my vision. “Focus. Where’s Lynette?”
“She’s not here?” I glance around the room, noticing her suitcase is no longer sitting by the balcony doors.
“She’s run off with Frankie,” my mother cries. “Your father wants to see you right away. If you know where they are, you mustn’t tell him. He’ll kill them. Oh, my poor Lynn.” She flops down on my bed and cries hysterically.
The shock freezes my blood in my veins like shards of ice.
“I don’t know where they are. What do you mean she ran off with Frankie?” Frankie is one of my father’s men. One of his most trusted. Or was. It’s why Father had him working as our bodyguard.
How could she? This marriage saved us. An alliance that would take the target off our backs. If Lynette ran off, what does that mean for the rest of us?
“You expect me to believe you didn’t help them?”
The claim hurls into me, leaving me boneless and panicked. My mind races, trying to understand how my sister, of all people, could do something like this. How could she leave me here to face our parents with no warning?
“I didn’t know,” I insist, my plea flimsy and full of desperation. “I swear I didn’t. Honest.” My head is swimmy, and my thoughts seem jumbled. Like I’ve woken up from a coma.
“Go see your father, and not a word about anything your sister may have told you,” she warns.
I can’t tell him what I don’t know.
Grabbing my robe, I throw it on quickly, but I hesitate when I reach the top of the stairs. I picture him behind his desk. Cold eyes. A grim frown. A man used to the world yielding to his will. I know that harsh look he gets, the one that means disappointment or worse. A punishment. The bite of the last lashing I received flares in me like an old bruise that won’t heal. I listen as I descend the stairs, but the house is eerily quiet. Too quiet.
I know better than to keep Father waiting. Carlo Vega isn’t a patient man. My footsteps are soft against the thick carpet as I make my way down the long hallway toward the closed study door. I remember the last time he called me to his den. The room feels more like a prison than a cozy office.
With each step, the shadows seem to grow longer, reaching for me with darkened fingers. Warning me that if I don’t turn back now, I’ll soon regret it.
I don’t have a choice. If I ignore my father’s request, I’ll pay dearly.
The door is just ahead, but I pause, breathless with the fear of what’s waiting on the other side. The impulse to run in the other direction grips me. I’ve often dreamed of running away from my life. But I can’t. I won’t.
I wouldn’t make it far.
Unlike Lynette.
I give the two soldiers standing outside the door a weak smile. Do they know where Frankie and my sister ran off to? Did they know what they were planning? They wouldn’t be standing here breathing if they had.
I raise my hand and knock lightly. There’s a muffled sound from behind the door, the deep rumble of his voice, low and impossible to make out. He’s not alone. I desperately hope he’s called Gissette, my younger sister, in here too. Or maybe it’s another one of his men.
“Get in here, Odette,” his voice booms from the other side.
I gulp and twist the knob.
My father sits behind his desk. One of his men stands to his right, looking out the window that overlooks our driveway, pretending to ignore us. But I know better. His men are his ears and eyes. They know everything. Every secret. Every word I speak or move I make. They are never far.
The leather of father’s new chair creaks as he sits up straighter, taking on that serious fatherly face. The one he wears when I’m in trouble. Papers are strewn before him, with a glass half-full of something tawny at his elbow. The sight sends a quiver through me. Father never drinks this earl y. Never.
He only drinks after dinner. Usually right before bed. His one vice besides women. Over the years he’s had plenty of mistresses. Mother plays dumb, but she’s not without sin either.
I’ll never forget walking in on her and the pool boy. I shudder at the memory.
My father clears his throat but doesn’t yell at me for dissociating.
The chair opposite him looms, expectant and waiting. High-backed, rich mahogany leather. I used to love watching him work when I was younger. Before I knew the kind of brutal man he was or is. Still, he’s my father. My heart beats wildly. My pulse pounds in my ears. I lower myself into the chair, wondering what fate awaits not only me, but my sister.
What was Lynette thinking? And will I bear her punishment since she’s not here to receive it?
“Do you know why I’ve called you here?” His voice comes out controlled, filled with authority. His weathered hands clasped atop his desk.
He stares at me, tired and pissed off. The lines etched around his eyes appear harder, more prominent than they were yesterday. His gaze holds steady, and I know he’s waiting for me to say something. To confess my part in all of this. Only I’m in the dark more than anyone besides maybe my little sister. Lynette was always secretive, but I never imagined she’d go and do something like this.
Something so reckless and selfish.
Foolish.
Ignorant.
“Mother told me that Lynette is missing.”
“Don’t speak her name. Your sister is dead to me, and you’re to take her place.”
His words slice through me.
What does he mean I’m to take her place?
The surrounding air thickens. The walls appear closer and my father larger than normal as he takes a swig of his liquor. “The wedding must go on.”
“Are…wh-what are you saying?” The words get caught in my throat, but I manage to spit them out. Has he found them already?
“There’s not much time. Your mother will help you prepare. The car will be here in an hour.”
An hour. My heartbeat increases, galloping like a wild horse.
Chill bumps fan up and down my arms as my father stares at me, expecting me to comply, knowing that I have no choice. Lynette made sure of that, and I won’t leave Gissette to pay for her sins.
“I’ll do it,” I say, my voice sounding as though it belongs to someone else.
He raises an eyebrow, the only sign that he’s surprised. “You’ll do what?”
I swallow hard, the words threatening to lodge in my throat. “I’ll take Lynette’s place. I’ll marry Nico.”
My easy submission hangs between us, sealing my fate. Father studies me, his eyes searching for any sign of weakness, but I’m resigned to the choice that was made for me.
“On one condition. You don’t punish Lynette or even Frankie. You’ll welcome them home.”
“This isn’t something you can take back,” he warns, his voice lower, sounding almost as if he cares.
I know better, but there’s still a part of me that seeks his approval. His love. I’ve always been his greatest disappointment. My first mistake was being born a girl when he yearned for a son. My second sin was not being nearly as beautiful as Lynette. Then Gissette came along and became the shining apple of his eye. She’s the baby and can do no wrong.
I used to hate her for being his favorite.
Now I pity her.
He leans back in his chair, finishing off his drink. “You realize what this means? Once you leave this house, you leave my protection.”
I nod.
I do. I realize what this means. A life I never wanted or asked for with a man who may or may not be a monster––a killer. But it will be a life where my family lives on. One where my sister doesn’t pay the ultimate price for her happiness.
If she ran off with Frankie out of love, then I want that for her. One of us should have the choice, even if it means losing mine.
“I know,” I assure him. My words come out sounding stronger than I feel. “I know what my duty is to this family.”
A ghost of a smile plays on his thin lips. One that almost holds a semblance of pride. “Things will move fast. I know you won’t let me down, Odette.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Good girl.” He dismisses me, and my heart stutters in my chest knowing this is the last time I’ll be under his roof. Under his rule.
I move from the chair, my feet carrying me to the door as I pray I can keep my word.
Pray that I can survive these wicked vows I’ve promised.
Chapter Two
I return to my room, my lungs filled with anxiety. I’ve stepped over the edge of the cliff. Trading one prison for another. Whitewood Manor has a reputation for being impenetrable. The only way one leaves is in a body bag, and it’s to be my new home with a man I don’t know. A man I am to marry in my sister’s place.
Did she know this would happen? Would she care? Does she care about me–our family, at all?
I’ve barely had a moment to myself when my mother comes barging back into my room along with the glam team that was meant to prepare my sister for the ceremony.
There’s no time for tears.
No time for second guessing.
My mother’s assistant scurries past me, dragging my luggage with her. Wordlessly, she packs my things, not bothering to ask what I wish to take and what I prefer to leave behind.
“Odette,” Mother shrieks my name. “Focus. Cassandra needs to alter the dress.” She claps, and the seamstress steps forward with the wedding dress. The one I helped my sister pick out six months ago. Did she know then that she would never wear it on this day? How long did she have this planned?
“Odette,” Mother screams my name and snaps her fingers.
There’s no room for modesty as I strip down to my underwear. The woman lays the garment bag across my bed, carefully unzipping it.
I stare at the opposite side of the room. The side that belongs to Lynette wishing I could manifest her before me now. Force her to explain why. She could have been honest with me. I may have volunteered willingly had she given me the option. I could have tried to help or something. It cuts me to the bone to know that she didn’t trust me.
Realization that she drugged me last night rears its deceitful head. That’s why my wine tasted off. Why I slept the day away.
“There’s nothing to worry about.” My mother reads my expression. Pinched brows and lips. On the verge of tears. I don’t know if I’m mourning the life I will never get to live. The one of my own choosing or the loss of my relationship with Lynette. My sister was my best friend. Now I can never, ever trust her again. “Chop. Chop, Odette. Cassandra doesn’t have all day. Neither do you.”
The silk fabric hangs heavily on my body, swallowing my petite frame, drowning me in the expectations I now carry. Lynette was blessed with long legs and thick hips. I, on the other hand, am short and slim with a decent bra size.
Disappointment hangs in the air between my mother and me. I’ll never compare to her precious Lynette, and she’ll never be the mother I need or the one I desperately want.
The seamstress pulls the fabric tight around my midsection.
“Can’t I wear something else?” I tug at the drooping bust. “I look like a clown. A child playing dress-up.”
Cassandra makes a tsk sound, jabbing me in the hip with one of her pins.
“Don’t be so dramatic, darling. Cassandra can work miracles.”
It’s going to take more than a miracle I’m afraid.
She works tirelessly. Each pin is a jab into my heart. A painful reminder of my sister’s betrayal. A reminder that my parents do not care about me.
“Smile, Odette. You’re going to make a beautiful bride. Nico will not be disappointed,” Cassandra tells me.
I smile because I am expected to.
The dress comes off, and she scurries away with it. I’m shoved down onto my vanity chair. Three women crowd around me. One tussles with my hair. Another plucks at my brows. The last kneels next to me and starts on my nails.
My mother beams in the background before fading away to get ready herself.
They all make it sound easy to pretend that today is the happiest day of my life. Don’t they realize they are dressing me up for my funeral?
