Page 28 of Of Oaths and Secrets

I step further into the room. “Oh, really? I’m sure you consider yourself particularly lucky to be pushed into this arrangement.”

“Is there something I can do for you?” she asks, quickly changing the subject.

I take another step closer, inhaling the scent that lingers in the air—a faint mix of vanilla and something a little spicier. It’s subtle like it’s meant just for me, drawing me in. It’s her in every way—comfort and allure, softness and strength. And I never want to forget it.

“I sent you a bag. Did you get it?” I ask, walking deeper into her space now.

She nods, turning fully to face me. “I did, yes. Thank you. My mother loves it.” She wrinkles her nose, and I can’t help but find it endearing. “It’s not really my style.”

Damn you, Lucia!“No, I suppose it’s not.” I lean my hip against the side of the dresser, placing myself between her and the door. She looks pale, the circles under her eyes a little darker, and I find myself worrying about her, which is ridiculous. She knows exactly who she chose.

“Why are you marrying me?”

“Excuse me?” She blinks, clearly taken aback.

“Why are you marrying me, Nora?”

She sighs, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Does it really matter? I was given a choice between two men, and I picked you.”

“Leo was the obvious choice,” I admit, though it costs me to say it. “Why me?”

“I told you before because of the power and money.”

“No, you didn’t. You lied to me before, and I allowed it, but I’m not going to marry you without the real reason.” I scoff, the frustration building. “You’re a terrible liar, Nora Falcone, and I have little patience for liars. If you were into power and money,you would have passed the engagement ring test with flying colors. Instead of picking the one that cost eighty-five thousand dollars, you chose the one that cost fourteen thousand. So, let me ask again—why are you marrying me?”

“Does it matter?” she snaps, her voice rising. “It’s not like you’re in love with me or that you even care. You were ordered by your father to accept.”

I purse my lips, not particularly fond of hearing about my own lack of choice. “You see, the thing is, I need to have at least a modicum of trust in the people who live in my home, and right now, nothing adds up. You don’t want to say? Fine!”

I start undoing my belt, popping open the first button of my pants, and pulling my shirt out, ruffling my hair to add to the effect.

“What are you doing?” she asks, shock and anger in her voice.

“I’m going to walk out of this room looking like this, telling everyone the wedding is off because you’re not a virgin. Let’s see how your family deals with the shame.”

Her eyes narrow, and for a moment, I think she might actually want to kill me. She purses her lips tightly as I reach for the door handle.

“Your funeral,” I mutter, just as I press down on the handle.

“I can never love you,” she cries out, her voice breaking.

I stop in my tracks, my hand freezing. Turning slowly, I see the tears welling up in her eyes, her entire body trembling with the enormity of those words. “What?”

She sighs, slumping in her seat. “I picked you because I know I will never love you.”

“And you could love Leo?” I ask, my voice sharp, demanding.

She shakes her head, a hint of frustration in her eyes. “I don't think so. He’s far too full of himself, but he’s also a charmer, and there’s a risk. But you? You don’t play games. You don't care ifI like you or not. You won’t go out of your way to be nice. You couldn’t even bother to text me back, and honestly, that’s for the best. That’s why I chose you—because I know my heart is safe. That's God's honest truth.”

Her words hit me like a slap in the face. I expected excuses, lies, maybe even fear—but not this.

“So you picked me because I’m emotionless and won’t care for you?” I cross my arms, narrowing my eyes at her. “Would it be so bad to love your husband?”

“In our world? Yes, absolutely.” She lets out a bitter laugh, her voice laced with frustration and resignation. “My mother loved my father, and it broke her. Men like you are different—you’re unable to give the love a woman deserves. We’ll always be second choice at best, or just a commercial transaction.” She snorts, shaking her head as if she’s mocking the very idea. “The irony isn’t lost on me, trust me. But I know what I'm getting into. My heart is protected, so you don’t need to try by sending me bags. But don’t worry, I’ll be your dutiful wife—I’ll do everything that’s expected of me.”

Her words, spoken with such calm certainty, irritate me more than I care to admit. “Protected?” I echo, my voice hardening as my irritation grows. “And what exactly does that mean, Nora? What do you think is expected of you?”

She looks at me, her eyes defiant, challenging. “I’ll attend your events, stand by your side, and play the role of the perfect wife. I’ll run your household, turn a blind eye to your extra-marital affairs, and bear your children as expected.”

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