Bound By A Promise (Brutal Vows #3)

Prologue

Dante

Summer in the Ozark Mountains

T he door to my bedroom suite opened without the benefit of a knock. Under normal circumstances, I would have my gun pointed at the intruder. Tonight wasn’t normal circumstances. It was the eve of my only brother’s wedding. Dario was the person entering my suite. Shooting the future groom wouldn’t be a great way to begin the festivities. Instead, I lifted the decanter of bourbon I’d procured from our father’s supply on the first floor of this mansion. Our father wouldn’t miss the Blanton’s Silver Edition Single Barrel, not with the ample supply of liquor at his fingertips.

“You missed your rehearsal dinner,” I said with an upward twitch of my lips. “I was beginning to think you’d miss this rambunctious bachelor party.”

Dario hummed as he looked around the living area of my suite, empty of people other than us. “My kind of party.”

“You never did know how to have fun.” Standing, I walked the decanter to the makeshift bar and poured two fingers of the amber liquid into two tumblers.

With his tie and suit coat absent, this was my brother’s idea of casual. Despite his lack of formality, the stress and pressure of the last few months was difficult to disguise. It was evident in the tenseness of his jaw and the small lines near his dark eyes.

I handed him a glass and lifted mine. “To the groom.”

Our glasses clinked.

The two fingers of Blanton’s slid down my throat with ease. Of course, this wasn’t my first drink of the night. It wasn’t even my third, but I wasn’t counting. I slammed my tumbler onto the table as Dario set his empty glass down and sighed.

“You found the good stuff,” he said, pouring another shot into each glass.

“I saw her, your bride, tonight at dinner.”

Dario shook his head. “I should have fucking been there.”

I nodded my agreement. “I got the feeling she was looking for you.”

“Father had a fire, literally.”

I lifted my eyebrows in question.

“Shipping container,” Dario went on, “went up in smoke.”

My stomach turned. “Contents?”

“Product, not the humankind. We probably lost fifteen million in product.” My brother shook his head. “Father thinks it’s the bratva.”

“You don’t?”

“None of Myshkin’s usual calling cards were there. The night before my wedding to a woman from the Roríguez cartel…Maybe I’m paranoid, but I think it was meant as a warning.”

“Not to go through with the wedding?” I straightened my neck. “Not from our people.”

“I wouldn’t rule anyone out.”

My brother took his glass to one of the overstuffed armchairs near the fireplace and sat back, stretching out his long legs. “As for the bride, she found me.” His lips curled almost enough for a grin. “Or we found her.”

After sitting in the chair near him, I asked, “What? When?”

“A few minutes ago,” he said. “In the kitchen. Catalina was down there looking for something to eat.” He lifted his glass to his lips.

When he didn’t continue, I prompted, “And…” My thought was that it would be easier to pull teeth than get Dario to talk. I’d pulled my share. It would be easier. “You don’t have to be so forthcoming with the information.”

Dario shrugged. “No information. We talked. Something I should have tried to do earlier than the night before our wedding.” He swirled the amber liquid in his tumbler.

“You should have. You’ve kind of been an ass to her.”

“I haven’t been anything to her.” He set his glass on the table. “Ever since the engagement, Father’s had me running in all directions. The famiglia will burn to the ground if he doesn’t step down and soon.”

Once word made it onto the streets about our famiglia’s alliance with the Roríguez cartel, we’ve been bombarded from all sides. Our father’s quick temper hadn’t quelled the rising temperatures within the famiglia or between different organizations. My thoughts went back to Dario’s bride. “Did she tell you off?”

“No. I have the feeling she understands what her father, brother, and uncles do. It’s not too difficult to understand what’s been occupying my time.”

“She’s beautiful,” I admitted. “If she’s understanding as well, you might have hit the jackpot. But…” I elongated the last word.

Dario lifted his eyebrows.

“You had your choice, right?”

“I chose Catalina. You know that.”

“What about her sister?”

“Camila?”

I nodded, my pulse increasing at the sound of her name.

My brother’s forehead furrowed. “Camila is a child.”

She didn’t look like a child to me.

Dario went on, “The last thing I want to do is marry a child. This alliance is going to require delicate diplomacy. I don’t have the time or energy to raise a wife.” He shook his head. “Catalina has proven herself to be self-reliant, with her education. She won’t need to be instructed at every turn.”

Giving that some thought, I let my cheeks rise in a grin. “Jorge promised she’s pure. Some instruction will be needed.”

Dario’s lips pressed together. “I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about life.”

On a good day, my brother was hard to read. With all that was happening, tonight wouldn’t be classified as good. His expression was impenetrable.

“I know her virginity isn’t an issue for you. It is for Mother.”

Dario’s dark eyes narrowed. “Her purity isn’t to be questioned even by you.”

I lifted my hand in surrender. “I’m just saying, you didn’t care about virginity when it came to Josie.”

My brother and I have always been close, but broaching the subject of Josie was a stretch even for me. “Sorry,” I said, flashing a smile. “My bad. It’s just that the younger one caught my eye. I’ve been thinking…”

“Stop thinking. She’s going to college and way too fucking young for you.”

Dario was probably right. And even if he wasn’t, as the soon-to-be-named capo, any relationship I’d want to pursue with Camila would be at his discretion. It was good I wasn’t looking for a relationship. Dario could cement the alliance with his marriage. That should be enough.

The following afternoon I stood at Dario’s side in our parents’ garden and scanned the unlikely gathering. With the Mafia on one side of the aisle and the cartel on the other, tension rippled through the air, almost visible in waves shimmering within the summer breeze. The earlier show of surrendering weapons upon entry was only that—a performance. Personally, I still had two guns and two knives. Knowing my brother, he was carrying even more weapons. All it would take was an itchy trigger finger to turn this wedding into a bloodbath.

My attention went to the woman walking down the aisle—the one Dario proclaimed as too young. Standing statuesque, my gaze lingered on her slender figure, partially hidden beneath the bridesmaid dress. The neckline dipped just enough to expose the top of her tiny breasts. Her long dark hair was secured on the sides and hanging in waves over her shoulders. The color of the dress intensified her emerald-green eyes, the ones I’d noticed last night.

The congregation stood as the music changed. An audible gasp of appreciation sounded from the rows of guests as my soon-to-be sister-in-law stood at the end of the aisle, her hand on her father’s arm.

As Dario took Catalina’s hand, I wondered if I was attracted to the younger Ruiz, or if as in most of my life, I was second to my older brother. Was his wedding making me think of my own? The thought that I was interested in anything other than a casual encounter almost made me laugh. I successfully let my mind concentrate on my brother and his bride and the current lack of bloodshed, that was, until it was time to walk back down the aisle. As best man, I was paired with the maid of honor.

Camila smiled up at me as we approached one another before gently laying her petite hand on my arm. The fragrance of cinnamon filled my senses. Seeing her fragile fingers, slender wrists…Dario was right. Camila was too young. More than that, she was too delicate to be with a man like me. Swallowing, I nodded with a grin of indifference as we paraded toward the back of the makeshift aisle.