Secret Vow: A Dark Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Mafia Marriages Book 1) Read online

  Secret Vow

  Mafia Marriages Book One

  Willow Fox

  Slow Burn Publishing

  SECRET VOW

  Mafia Marriages Book One

  Willow Fox

  Published by Slow Burn Publishing

  © 2021

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Contents

  About this Book

  Mailing List

  Chapter 1

  Dante

  Chapter 2

  Nicole

  Chapter 3

  Dante

  Chapter 4

  Nicole

  Chapter 5

  Dante

  Chapter 6

  Nicole

  Chapter 7

  Dante

  Chapter 8

  Nicole

  Chapter 9

  Dante

  Chapter 10

  Nicole

  Chapter 11

  Dante

  Chapter 12

  Nicole

  Chapter 13

  Dante

  Chapter 14

  Nicole

  Chapter 15

  Dante

  Chapter 16

  Nicole

  Chapter 17

  Dante

  Chapter 18

  Nicole

  Chapter 19

  Dante

  Chapter 20

  Nicole

  Chapter 21

  Dante

  Chapter 22

  Nicole

  Chapter 23

  Dante

  Chapter 24

  Nicole

  Chapter 25

  Dante

  Chapter 26

  Nicole

  Chapter 27

  Dante

  Chapter 28

  Nicole

  Chapter 29

  Dante

  Chapter 30

  Nicole

  Chapter 31

  Dante

  Chapter 32

  Nicole

  Chapter 33

  Dante

  Chapter 34

  Nicole

  Chapter 35

  Dante

  Chapter 36

  Nicole

  Chapter 37

  Dante

  Chapter 38

  Nicole

  Chapter 39

  Dante

  Epilogue

  Nicole

  Giveaways, Free Books, and More Goodies

  About the Author

  Also by Willow Fox

  About this Book

  Secret Vow

  (Mafia Marriages Book One)

  She wants her freedom and all I want is her…

  Nicole DeLuca, she’s the daughter of the biggest crime boss on the west coast. Did I mention that her father, Gino DeLuca, is my enemy?

  I slept with Nikki and I can’t for the life of me forget about her. I’ve been keeping tabs on her, making sure no other men come anywhere near her.

  I’ll chase them away like the beast that I am to protect her.

  Like a caged bird, she’s desperate for freedom. Nikki sneaks out only to get snatched and sold as a bride.

  Even in the darkest room, the dirtiest corner of the world, I recognize her. She’s my little dove.

  I buy her. Own her. Save her.

  Except she doesn’t see it that way…

  She wants her freedom and all I want is her and that baby.

  This dark mafia romance is the first in the Mafia Marriages series and can be read as a standalone.

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  1

  Dante

  The way she dances does things to me that I know are wrong.

  I swallow back another glass of whiskey, trying to suppress the urge to stalk over and capture her lips with mine.

  “Tell me you’re not considering sleeping with Nicole DeLuca,” Moreno says.

  He’s my second, my best friend, and also blatantly honest, even when I don’t want him to be.

  He also knows that I’ve sported a hard-on for Nicole since the moment I learned of Gino’s daughter.

  I like a challenge, and she’s off-limits. It makes the catch that much more fun.

  “Have you seen me so much as talk to her?” I shoot Moreno a glare to shut the hell up. Somehow, I doubt he will do as I want.

  He’s a good guy if such a thing can be said about the Ricci Family.

  “You keep drinking and staring. She’s bound to notice you,” Moreno says.

  Maybe that’s the point. I want her to notice me. I want her to fear me like her father, Gino, fears my family.

  Nicole struts onto the dance floor. The light cascades across her raven hair.

  She bumps and grinds, arms tossed into the air.

  I want to fuck that smile right off her gleeful face.

  She’s a force to be reckoned with, and I’m just the man to turn her life upside down.

  “Have another drink. It’s on me.” Moreno gestures to the bartender, and he waltzes over and pours another whiskey.

  “On you?” I laugh.

  I own the damned bar.

  He can offer to buy me all the drinks he wants. I drink here for free.

  “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t tip the staff.” Moreno slides a fifty to the bartender, Ren-something.

  I forget her name. I hired her after the last guy caused me a headache and a dead boss.

  Somethings are better left in the past.

  Being don has its advantages, including getting any girl I want.

  Tonight, that girl is Nicole DeLuca.

  I shift on the barstool.

  Usually, I claim the corner booth. It has a reserved placard for the occasion that I might want to come in and have a drink or business with an associate.

  “You need another girl. Someone less deadly,” Moreno says.

  I laugh under my breath and sip my whiskey. “You talk like she’s an assassin.”

  “Her father is.”

  I wave my hand in the air. “He’s an old man, Gino. Pain in my ass.” He is also a problem that needs taking care of, but that’s a job for another day.

  Tonight, I’m here to cut off some steam and have fun.

  “You fuck that girl, and he’ll hunt you down,” Moreno warns. He gestures the bartender over and gets himself a drink.

  I raise an eyebrow. I haven’t seen Moreno drink in, well, since forever.

  This is bad if he’s drinking. “Shit, I’m driving you to drink. It really must be the end of the world,” I mock.

  He pinches the bridge of his crooked nose. He got that from defending my honor in a bar fight nearly two decades ago. I’d been young, naïve, and on the cusp of seventeen. I knew how to fight like a kid, not like a man.

  Moreno rectified that. He taught me everything I know about the family business.

  “Just promise me that you’ll leave her alone.” Moreno sips his whiskey.

  It’s obvious to anyone who knows him he can’t stand the taste, but he drinks like a pro to an outsider.

  “You don’t have to kill yourself for me,” I joke and point at the whiskey. “I’ll down that if you’re struggling.”

  “Do you see me struggling?” Moreno
asks.

  “While you enjoy that whiskey, I’m going to work my moves on the dance floor.”

  “Dante,” Moreno says my name, but his tone holds more than just a hint of warning.

  He’s screaming at me to listen to him.

  But when do I ever listen?

  The funny thing is that I’m his boss, and I don’t take orders from Moreno or anyone else. While I appreciate his concern, that’s all it is to me, and I’m going to do whatever the hell I want.

  Hasn’t he realized that yet?

  I climb off the barstool and make my way onto the dance floor. I don’t dance. There’s no need.

  I’m on a mission, and she is my target.

  We lock eyes, and she blushes on my approach.

  Good. She doesn’t seem to know me. At least she hasn’t indicated that I’m the bastard trying to kill her father.

  “I’m here with friends,” she says like that line will work to shoo me away.

  “Nice of them to ditch you,” I say.

  She’s been dancing for the last forty or so minutes, alone. The handful of guys who tried to pick her up haven’t had any luck.

  One of them looks at me apologetically.

  I’ve yet to see her with a shot or drink in her hand, either.

  “How do you know they’re not in the bathroom?” Nicole asks.

  “If they are, they must have snuck out the window.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Are you implying that I’m that boring?”

  “On the contrary, I’m implying nothing, only that you’re a pretty woman dancing alone.”

  “I bet that line works on all the other girls,” Nicole says.

  She’s right. It doesn’t take much for them to fall at my feet. I’m blessed with good looks and a great body. Does she not notice?

  “How about I buy you a drink, and if you never want to see me again—”

  “Okay.”

  Her response takes me by surprise.

  I lead her toward the reserved booth and gesture for her to climb in first. The booth is curved, and I make sure to sit close beside her, our thighs touching.

  I want to touch her, seduce her, and bring her all sorts of heightened pleasure.

  “Are you sure we should be sitting here?” Nicole asks. “It did say reserved.”

  I merely shrug. I don’t want to give away who I am, especially if she’s unaware of my position of power. She shouldn’t know.

  “Let’s see what happens,” I say.

  She raises a curious eyebrow but shuts her mouth.

  The bartender from earlier comes over, and I gesture for two drinks—one for each of us. I don’t have to give the bartender my order. She gets the finest liquor, top-shelf from the collection.

  “I never got your name,” Nicole says.

  “Daniel,” I answer. It’s a lie. I’ve always been Dante.

  It’s clear she doesn’t recognize me, and I can’t have my name triggering any further recognition.

  “I’m Nikki,” she says and rests a hand on my thigh.

  Her tune has changed since I met her minutes ago on the dance floor, but I’m not sure why. Do I care?

  “It’s lovely to meet you, Nikki,” I say, as if I’m trying to remember her name.

  I could never forget it. I’ve had my eye on her since she strolled into town and moved in with her Daddy, my number one enemy: Gino DeLuca.

  All I’ve wanted is to take him down, and in the process, I’ll be forced to ruin her for other men.

  Too bad.

  She’s beautiful, with her long black hair and deep-set amber eyes.

  Cute and sexy.

  And she could have a normal life if I wasn’t at war with her old man.

  The lights are dim, the bar not terribly crowded for a Friday night.

  The music slows, and I’m glad we’re already in the booth. While a slow dance is nice at times, it doesn’t fit right now. Not when I want to grind against her.

  The bartender returns with two drinks. One is a whiskey for me and the second a whiskey sour on the rocks for her. It’s strong but sweet, too girly for my taste, but the ladies haven’t turned it away in the past.

  I don’t expect her to be any different.

  But I’m wrong.

  She slides her glass toward me and grabs mine before I can lift it to my lips. “I’ll have what you’re having.”

  She means my glass of whiskey.

  Damn, that shit is expensive.

  The girls always get the off-label, and since it’s mixed, they can’t taste the difference.

  She smiles coyly and bats her long dark lashes, but it’s just an act.

  What game is she playing tonight?

  “Hope you don’t mind. I prefer the good stuff, liquid gold.” Nicole gulps the whiskey in a matter of seconds and slams the glass down hard on the wooden table.

  Her warm amber gaze has flecks of gold, and the longer she watches me, the more I fall into her stare.

  What the hell is going on?

  “Do you want to get out of here?”

  I do more than anything, but my gut is telling me no. “How about I take you back to your place?” I suggest.

  I already know she’s living with her father, but I wonder what excuse she’ll give me.

  2

  Nicole

  “Come down here for a moment, Nicole,” Papa says and gestures with two fingers for me to come closer.

  I’m his pet, his prize he likes to tout around to suitors in the business. He brags about how proud he is of me, but he’s only proud of himself.

  I hate my father but he’s family. Moving home wasn’t my idea, but I don’t have anywhere else to go without a job and after recently graduating from college.

  I stroll down the staircase. My bare feet graze over the cold wood floor. “Yes, Papa?”

  “Come, sit with me in my office.”

  Dread flows straight to my stomach. Anytime my papa wants me to join him in his office means I’ve disappointed him in some way or another.

  What have I done this time?

  “As you know, I’ve held my tongue and let you chase a degree and graduate from that foolish school of yours,” Papa says.

  My cheeks burn, and I press my lips tight together to keep from reacting emotionally.

  “Now that you’re home and you’re twenty-two, you are going to settle down with a young man of my choosing.”

  “Papa!” I feel like a child interrupting him.

  And he treats me as such.

  His hand slaps me hard across the face.

  “Do not interrupt me,” he scolds.

  I hang my head in shame. It’s what he wants, after all, control.

  “I’ve thought long and hard about the business, Nicole. It’s in everyone’s best interest if you are wed to—”

  “No!” I won’t hear it. I wait for him to slap me again across the face, but it doesn’t come. “I’m not marrying someone who you think I ought to marry. That’s such an archaic notion!” I shout in disgust as I hurry out of his office.

  “Young lady, I’m not through speaking with you!”

  I don’t care, and he gets the message as I hurry for the front door. I slip on a pair of shoes and bolt out the main entrance.

  I didn’t think this through.

  I have no car.

  No money.

  And no one to call or depend on.

  I head for the main road, ignoring the guards as they question me on my way out, asking if I need a ride. As much as I want one, I also know that they will tell my papa everything, including where I’ve run off to.

  I head for the bar in the nearest town. The walk doesn’t bother me. The weather is nice, sunny and pleasant, which is better than my mood.

  I want to get plastered, but I forgot my wallet. I could flirt with the bartender or maybe a hottie at the bar. That assumes anyone in this freakishly small town is handsome and worth my time.

  It doesn’t help that I have nowhere to go. Returnin
g home weighs on me like a ton of bricks.

  I skip the drinks and stroll out onto the dance floor. The pulse-pounding music wakes me up inside and makes me forget about the turbulent day. I shrug off the first two guys who vie for my attention.

  They don’t hold my interest. They’re too smiley and picture-perfect.

  There’s a man at the bar that’s hot.

  Sharply dressed, dark eyes, and fit under his suit.

  He’s trying too hard to impress the ladies.

  My gaze lingers on him longer than I intend to, and I break away, turning as I dance in the middle of the floor, my feet stomping on the ground. Cutting loose feels wonderful.

  If only I could cut all ties to my life.

  It wouldn’t be so hard if I’d have landed a teaching job. My degree was a piece of paper, worthless.

  I should have examined the job market before graduating with a degree in elementary education. It wasn’t like I couldn’t get a job. A few areas were hiring, but they weren’t in the best neighborhoods.

  That didn’t overly concern me.

  It was the fact rival families ran those territories.

  I would always be a target so long as my father was don.

  He hadn’t always been don, but he’d been second in command, the underboss to Angelo DeLuca for years. I couldn’t remember a time when Angelo and Papa weren’t chummy.

  When Angelo died, Papa took over the family business with pride and admiration.

  He’d been a bastard to me when he’d been an underboss. I shudder at the memory of his hand slapping me across the face. Papa had never been gentle, but he also had left me well enough alone.