Vow to Me: A Mafia Arranged Marriage (The Romano Empire Book 1)

Chapter Twenty-Five

I’m not a good man, in any sense of the term. My only redeeming qualities are that I refuse to hurt women and children. I don’t show kindness to people unless they’re from my close circle, which includes my brothers, my father, Alec, and now Izzy. I don’t really have anyone else; I have an aunt from my mother”s side and a couple of cousins, but they’re not part of the Mafia life, my aunt left this life behind before her kids were born and never looked back. We speak on occasion but keep our distance for the sake of their safety.

I didn’t lie earlier when I told Izzy that tonight I wouldn’t be gentle. That was the truth. The lie was that I was only fucking her. As I lie here, catching my breath after the most intense sexual experience of my life, I realize something.

That was not—in any way—me just fucking my wife. That was me consuming her, showing her a part of herself that she didn’t know existed. That was me letting her inside me, showing her the deepest, darkest side of myself. That was me letting her in completely, and it was me—in my twisted, depraved, fucked up way—making love to her for the first time.

“Hey, Iz?”

“Yeah?” she mumbles sleepily in reply.

“Why did you go through with the marriage? You don’t seem to particularly like your father—so it wasn’t for his approval, and you can take care of yourself just fine, you could have run at any point, so why didn’t you? Why did you marry me?” I ask, it’s something I’ve been wondering about since she came into the basement to tell me about her phone call with Antonio, it’s clear she is in no way his biggest fan, she can physically take care of herself and she’s always working, so it’s not like she needs money.

Izzy tenses in my arms before she swallows and peers up at me.

“My mama always believed in arranged marriages, I can’t understand why, but she did. Her and my father’s marriage was arranged, but they loved each other fiercely, unlike anything I’ve ever seen. A part of my father died the day my mother did, he wasn’t always this bad, he could be, but it wasn’t his constant personality like it is now. Mama always used to tell me tales about how one day, they would arrange a marriage for me, to someone who would be fierce and strong, someone who could protect me, always. I guess I married you because I thought that it would make her happy, even though she’s not here anymore. I felt like I would be disappointing her—letting her down—if I didn’t go through with it,” she says with misty eyes, but she blinks before any tears can fall. My strong girl, my fierce little queen.

“I may not be the man you dreamt up when you were a child, but I’ll always take care of you, I’ll always protect you and give you choices, I don’t want to dull your light or your fight, Izzy. You’re a queen, mia regina. I’ll help you fight any demons you have, baby, but you don’t have to be strong all the time, it’s okay to fall apart too. I’ll be here to help you put yourself back together,” I say, and she snuggles closer into my side, her body shakes, and her silent tears soak my skin. I hold my wife in my arms as she sobs silently, she doesn’t let me see her fall apart, but she lets me hold her through it, drawing strength from me as she breaks my heart in two.

It’s been five days since the gala, and I’ve spent the last few days catching up with work on our legal side of business, spending time with Izzy and tracking the movements of Elias Williams.

Turns out, the asshole who dared to lay his hands on my wife isn’t just some dumb fuck nobody. No, he turned out to be a prominent businessman, and the mayor’s cousin. And while under normal circumstances, I’d happily bring him to one of our warehouses and torture the stupid fuck before putting him out of his misery, unfortunately, that would be a danger to me and my family.

Needless to say, I am in no way letting him get away with touching what’s mine, I just can’t make it a public display to warn others of what happens if they decide to do the same, much to my dismay. So, I’m having to settle for killing him quickly, with a less personal touch than I would like but I’d rather that than let the slimy little fucker live.

I’ve spent some time following him, learning his patterns, his routine, his schedule. Which is how I’m currently sat in an armchair in the corner of his bedroom, knowing he’ll be arriving home in approximately seven and a half minutes.

I take in my surroundings, cringing at the over-the-top, pretentious bedding, to the watch collection he has on display as though it’s a piece of fucking artwork. Elias Williams likes to fancy himself as a god, it seems. He’s egotistical, has no concerns in taking what he wants, like his attempt on taking my wife for himself—very poor judgement on his part—and seems to enjoy gambling, spending his money in strip clubs, owned by my fucking family and tends to act like he”s the center of the universe.

That fucking ends tonight.

I hear the car engine rev as it pulls up to the house and into the driveway before cutting off.

Elias likes to make the impression that he’s vastly wealthy, but if that was the case he’d have better security, or security at all for that matter. It was embarrassingly easy for me to break into his home, I’d expected more of a challenge if I’m honest.

Fucking finally, I hear his footsteps coming up the stairs and approaching the room I’m currently waiting for him in. I feel like I’m in one of those movies where someone’s waiting in a dark corner, who turns on a lamp to announce their presence. The asshole opens the door and removes his watch, placing it in his like glass cabinet with the others. Figures.

I clear my throat to grab his attention and he startles, jumping back like a scared little kitten and—best of all—crashes into the dresser, sending the cabinet of watches crashing to the floor before it shatters at his feet, making me chuckle.

“You made a mistake Elias; do you have any idea of what that might be?” I sneer. Moonlight bathes the room enough for him to make out my face, so I can see the instant he realizes who’s in his home, a mixture of recognition and fear passing his features.

“Mr Rom-mano, I’ve just come from one of your clubs, the girls are great. W-what are you doing here?” He stutters like the little bitch that he is.

“I could give two fucks about any of that, you piece of shit. I’m here because you dared to lay your filthy hands on my fucking wife,” I growl, and all color leaves his face as he blanches. That’s right motherfucker, be scared.

“It was… it was rumored to be an a-arranged marriage. I did…didn’t think you’d care if I helped myself,” he whispers and backs himself into the corner of the room, the opposite side of the room to the exit I might add. Fucking idiot.

I take a deep breath to try and keep my rage from taking over. The asshole didn’t think I would care that he touched my wife? My Izzy? Mia regina?

Fuck, breathe Luca.

Images of what could’ve happened if my girl hadn’t managed to fight back infiltrate my mind and the edge of my vision turns black, my control snaps and I let the rage take over.

I’m barely conscious when I approach him and beat the living shit out of him, or when I finally see the light go out in his eyes, the rage inside me is like anything I’ve ever known, so strong and so fucking fierce that I’m numb as I set his house up to look like a break-in and it isn’t until I’m making the drive back to the city that I start to feel like I’m coming back to myself again.

Fuck, that was bad. I’ve had bouts of rage before. Usually when someone in my family gets injured or attacked, but I have never blacked out before like I did tonight.

Christ, this love thing really messes with your head.

My ringtone fills the car as Izzy’s contact pops up on the dash, which is unusual as she normally prefers to keep our communication to texts. Immediately on high alert, I accept the call.

“Izzy? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, just wondering where you keep your first aid kit,” she says casually, as if she didn’t just send my panic from five to fifty with a few words. I can hear her moving around the room in the background, what the fuck is happening?

“Why? What’s wrong? Why do you need a first aid kit? Should I send a doctor? I’m on my way home but it’ll take me thirty minutes to get there. Should I send Marco over? I’ll call Marco now, he can—”

“Jesus, Luca! Calm the fuck down. I’m fine, I just needed some aspirin, I couldn’t find any and remembered there were some in the first aid kit you used to clean up my arm,” she says before mumbling something that sounds a lot like overprotective and psycho under her breath.

“Why do you need aspirin? Are you okay?” I say, still worried.

“I’m fine, I got my period and I’ve got cramps, okay? You can stop your worrying, if you’re like this every month it happens, you’ll have a fucking heart attack, Luca,” she says in a sexy as fuck assertive tone and I begin to breathe again. Jesus, I’ve never been so fucking protective over a woman before. Then again, I’ve never known a woman like my wife before, she’s in a fucking league of her own.

I let out a sigh of relief before telling her where she can find the first aid kit and I can hear her rummaging around in what I assume is the cupboard under the sink in the main bathroom.

“I’ve got it, thank you.”

“Do you need me to get you anything else? I can make a stop on my way home,” I say, I want to help her, but I have no fucking idea how, this is so far out of my fucking comfort zone. I’ve never had to deal with a woman on her period before, why would I?

“I’m good, Luca. But thank you, I’m just gonna chill on the couch and watch some tv. I’ll see you soon,” she says and ends the call, leaving me apprehensive as fuck. Don’t women cry and get all moody when they’re on their period?

My wife is slightly psychopathic and stabby on a normal day, so who the fuck knows what she’s like when she’s hormonal. She can be fucking crazy sometimes, but she wouldn’t be herself if she wasn’t.

Iended up stopping at a store on my way home and stocking up on snacks, chocolate and ice cream for Izzy, as well as a whole selection of sanitary towels and tampons. According to a quick google search, these are must-have’s for when a woman is on her period. The poor old woman in the store picked up on what I was doing after hearing me curse to myself for the third time and took pity on me, helping me gather a selection on items that will “make her feel better”.

According to google, orgasms help too. Though I’m not sure whether to test that theory, the last thing I want is for Izzy to think I only want her for her body. Yes, her body is fucking amazing and sex with her is like nothing I’ve ever felt before, but I want more than that, I want more of her, I want fucking everything she’ll give me.

I’m making it my mission to capture her mind, body, heart and soul, just like she has captured mine.

I enter the apartment and find Izzy fast asleep on the couch, bundled beneath a blanket. My sleeping angel doesn’t even stir as I slide my arms beneath her and pick her up. I carry her into the bedroom and place her on the bed, pressing a quick kiss to her hair. I quickly put the bag of groceries away and get undressed before sliding into bed and gathering Izzy back into my arms.

She nuzzles her head in the crook of my shoulder, and I finally feel like I can breathe again. Nothing feels right anymore unless I have her in my arms.

“I love you, Izzy,” I whisper into the darkness, knowing that there’s no way in hell I can tell her when she’s conscious, she’s not ready for that. She’s not there yet, but that’s okay. She will be, I’ll make sure of it. I’ll make my wife love me, even if it’s the last thing I do.