Page 64 of Broken Vows

With one swift thrust, he buries himself deep inside me, filling me completely. I cry out, my nails digging into his back as he starts to move, his hips setting a punishing pace. His mouth finds mine, his tongue fucking my mouth in time with his cock.

"You're mine, Melinda," he growls against my lips. "Every fucking inch of you. Mine."

I can only nod, my body on fire as he claims me completely.

20

Vincent

My father’s study feels like a courtroom.

I lay out the case—photos, wire transfers, intercepted calls. The light through the bulletproof glass catches every damning detail.

Antonio reviews the evidence like he’s planning a hit—steady, unflinching, impossible to read.

"This is comprehensive," he says finally, setting down a bank statement showing transfers to Perezzi accounts. "How long have you been building this case?"

"Days. Maybe longer." I stay standing—too wired to sit. "The patterns go back months. This isn’t impulse. It’s calculated. Deliberate."

"And you're certain Marco orchestrated the attacks on Melinda?"

"He admitted it. Bragged about compromising her medical records. Financing surveillance. Targeting our child."

The words taste like acid.

"He sees the pregnancy as a threat to the family’s future."

Antonio sets down the last photo, face unreadable. But when he looks at me, I see it—a cold decision balanced against blood.

He’s weighing the cost of losing a son.

"Your brother’s always been too eager to prove himself," he says. "Impatient. Resisting decisions I made. Delaying approvals."

His fingers drum once against the desk.

"Though, perhaps, he’s not wrong. Passion weakens a man. Makes him... predictable."

"He's moved beyond proving himself into active sabotage. Every day we delay gives him more time to escalate."

"Perhaps." Antonio moves to the window, clasping his hands behind his back. His reflection stares back at me from the glass—calm, controlled, calculating.

"But removing Marco creates other problems. He’s got backers. The old captains who think you’re too corporate. Too soft. Men who remember how this familyusedto be."

There’s a weight in his tone I can’t ignore.

And for the first time, I’m not sure who he’s warning me about—Marco’s men.

Or himself.

My blood chills. "You're hesitating."

"I’m being practical." He faces me again, eyes sharp. "Marco’s brutality still plays with some of our captains. The ones whothink fear keeps this family in line. If we take him out, they’ll see it as weakness."

"And if we don’t?" I step in closer. "He’s already feeding the Perezzis intel. What’s next? Russians? Chinese? He’ll torch the whole city just to prove he’s the bigger monster."

"You may be right."Antonio's tone gives nothing away. "But timing matters. We need to ensure his removal sends the right message—strength, not family dysfunction."

Before I can respond, his secure line rings. He answers with sharp impatience, face darkening as he listens to the report.

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