Page 9 of Dangerous Vows

Tomorrow? That’s a problem for another day.

And with that thought in mind, I seehim.

PIETRO

BUILT FOR SIN

We’re pregaming in Matteo’s home office, which reeks of testosterone. The dark wood, the smell of cigars, and the rich leather couch and chairs set the tone. But the focal point is a built-in bookcase made from the wood of old cognac barrels. It advertises power and wealth, like a beloved sweater that my brother wears well.

The whiskey burns smoothly, settling in my chest as I laugh with my brothers. The room is thick with the kind of banter that only years of shared blood and battle can forge. Renalto rolls his eyes as Matteo teases me about being the next to settle down while he nurses his drink like the responsible oldest brother he’s always been.

“Just wait,” I say, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. “Give Renalto a few months. He’ll have her knocked up, too.”

Renalto groans, tipping his head back. “I hate you all.”

The laughter is easy, and the night stretches ahead of us like an open road of excess. A knock at the door interrupts us, and Gio steps into the room, his face unreadable.

“Hummer’s ready,” he announces.

Matteo grins. “Let’s go, boys. Time to get the party started properly.”

The night’s crisp air greets us as we step outside, and the remnants of the thick scent of burning cigars waft from our clothes. The citywaits for us, golden and electric, the Hummer a sleek beast ready to deliver us into its belly.

I’m expecting a good time—drinks, women, a night of indulgence. What I’m not expecting isher.

I see her the moment we settle at our reserved table at Velluto.

She’s on the dance floor, oblivious to the men watching her. Their gazes are hungry, and their hands are itching to touch her. But they don’t.

Theycan’t.

She’s untouchable in a way that isn’t just about distance—it’s in how she moves. She owns every inch of the space around her.

My breath catches.

Her hair, dark as ink, gleams under the low, golden lights, each wave is like silk as it cascades over her shoulders. Her dress is short, showcasing her figure. She has curves in all the right places. I’m mesmerized by how comfortable she is, living in the moment like she owns it. And she does. Her hands travel down her body as her knees dip. She shimmies her hips and runs her hand up her body and over her ample breasts.

I’m mesmerized, caught in her gravity, and unable to look away. Waiting. Wanting.

I’m waiting to see what she does next.

And then, she opens her eyes.

They’re blue like an Easter egg sitting in a basket on Easter morning. They’re bright and unassuming, like something delicate wrapped in something dangerous.

My cock hardens instantly.

She’s incredible. Sexy. Vibrant. Mysterious.

And she’s looking atme.

There’s something in her gaze, something I can’t place. Not innocence. Not seduction.

A challenge. A dare.

Like she’s silently telling me to come and fucking take her.

I swallow hard, my pulse thrumming in my veins. My brothers arestill laughing. A tray of drinks has arrived, yet they’re still talking about the night ahead, but I don’t hear them anymore.

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