Page 31 of Dangerous Vows

“I’m your daughter, not a piece of meat to be toyed with and bartered off to absolve you of your crimes. There has to be another way.”

“There isn’t. Marriage is a sacred union that will hold our families accountable and lead to a peaceful future. I’ve been pushing them off, and at a great cost, but they aren’t patient. Trust me, the Serbs will do terrible things to you if you don’t do this.”

“You mean they will do terrible things to you?” I scoff.

“ENOUGH of your insolence!” he yells. The walls shake, and my hands tremble. “You will do as you are told!” And with that, his face contorts, and he clutches his chest before he crashes head-first into the desk and crumples to the ground with a heavy thud. The sound of him hitting the desk was enough to make me nauseous, but when he hit the floor, Elio rushed in, with others following in his wake.

“Call 911,” Elio barks to a man as he rolls my father on his side.

“I didn’t do anything,” I say before I turn and run. I run through the restaurant and into the street. I run until I can’t breathe.

I don’t know if he’ll live or die. I stop, bending over as I hyperventilate.

What do I do now?

I walk without direction. His voice echoes in my mind. I can’t forget his ominous warning. It drones on like a broken record. “Mafia men will use you and toss you aside. He’ll never marry you.”

So he’s been keeping tabs on me, and now he thinks I’m wrapped up with a bad boy.

Is he wrong? I’m not so sure anymore.

My stomach is twisting. The deep, threatening voice of my father’s threats alarms me because I know the Serbs will do worse things to me than my father. His comments about Pietro can’t be true, can they?

But underneath his devilish smile and silken words, who is Pietro?

He’s got to be in the mafia, and I realize what my father said must be true. His words sum up my mother’s life. She’s been relegated to second fiddle because Dad keeps a mistress tucked away in an apartment just around the corner.

Miloš is the devil incarnate. His brother can’t be much better. My blood runs cold. I’m no match for my father, but I’d fare even worse with the Serbs. They have a reputation for violence. They are products of a war-torn country, and they carry little regard for life… and even less for mercy. I need protection. And if Pietro is who I think he is, I’ll be safer with him. My father is fighting the Serbs. He can’t fight a war on two fronts. Even I know that.

And in the darkest place, where hope should’ve died, I find light.

I arrive at the club, and I figure by now my father has been carted off to the hospital, and this buys me time.

Perhaps Pietro is a blessing in disguise.

The night passes without incident, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss the bantering back and forth with him.

My father and his men are watching me. I’m the human equivalent of a bug trapped in a mayonnaise jar.

How ironic is it that I run from my mafia family and crawl into bed with a man who’s in the mafia, too?

Dad can’t attack the Borrellis without a valid excuse, so why not hitch my future to theirs? The closer I stick to Pietro, the safer I’ll be.

Just because my father muddied the water with the Serbs andthey’re out for blood, doesn’t mean it’s my problem. And if I give in to my father’s demands, Vukan will control me. I don’t know him, but his brother speaks volumes.

I feel empty inside without Pietro and wish he were here. The night passes without our banter, but I miss it.

The fire in my belly to fight my father has grown cold. The reality is he’ll win in the end. If my father can’t bring me back into the fold, the Serbs might pick me up themselves. How long will the secret of my whereabouts be kept? Someone will sell me out to Petrovic because every soldier has a price.

I sit in Pietro’s chair inside the office as the soundproof walls fail to stop the music completely.

I plant my hands on the desk and bury my head in them. The room still carries the scent of his cologne, and it’s comforting in his absence. I wish he were here… but I know he had a wedding to attend.

What can I do?

If I marry the Serb…. I can’t imagine what my life would be like.

I’m doomed either way, the proverbial rock between a hard place.

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