Page 1 of Stolen Vows
Chapter 1
Valentina Denaro
I pop awake at the soundof footsteps in the hall and tighten my fist around my knife as fear sweat joins the sheen on my skin.Nightmares linger in the back of my mind, clouding my thoughts, but I focus on the soft braid clutched in my other hand and force my lungs to expand.The footsteps stop outside my door.
I force my body to relax into the mattress.The clock ticks in the hall.A breeze ruffles the curtains, but the cool San Francisco evening air doesn’t reach my skin through my long-sleeved nightgown and tangled sheets.
I wait with my heart pounding and ears straining, fighting against my instinct to roll off the bed, dart into the bathroom, and lock the door behind me.
My door swings open, and through my lashes, I glimpse my father.Terror grips me.
He flicks on my light and stomps into the room.
I leave my knife under my pillow and sit up with a startled gasp even as relief pours through me.
Drunk father never turns on the light.
“Daddy?What’s wrong?”
I cringe at my words but appeasing him is always more important than my pride.
“Nothing, baby.”My stomach roils at his tone.“We’re going to New York.”I blink and swipe my hand over my face before donning an eager smile.Worms crawl under my skin as his eyes roam over me.“Get dressed and pack an overnight bag.Our plane leaves in two hours,” he says.
I nod and pull my braids over my shoulders before reaching for my blankets.He turns and disappears down the hall.I slide my hand under my pillow and slip my knife into the flowy fabric of my nightgown as I swing my legs over the side of the bed.
The smooth Saltillo tiles cool the soles of my feet as I cross the room and close myself in the bathroom.I press my shoulder against the door and turn the lock as quietly as possible, holding my breath until it slides into place.
With shaking hands, I rush toward the sink and turn on the water before I drop to my knees and open the cabinet.After tucking my knife into the pocket of duct tape hidden on the underside of the counter, I rise and shut the cabinet, but the doorknob jiggles and I lose my grip.The wood bangs closed.
I meet my eyes in the mirror as I cringe.
Even with my haunted eyes, mature features, and darkened hair, my two French braids, frilly nightdress, and makeup-less face make me look too much like the child my mother left behind.
Which is by design, but no less startling.I’m no longer the pampered twelve-year-old girl who felt cherished and safe with both parents watching over her.Instead, I’m a broken twenty-two-year-old woman desperate to escape her father’s growing mania.
The only way out is the marriage he arranged for me in New York City.
“Are you hiding something from me, Valentina?”my father asks from the other side of the door.
My heart leaps into my throat.I crack the cabinet, sneak my arm inside, and grab the first thing my fingers touch.
“No, Daddy, I’m just packing,” I say in as innocent a tone as I can manage.
A wrapper crinkles in my hand.Mortification and fear flood my mind as I realize I grabbed a pack of menstrual pads.
“Are you hurting, baby?”
Sourness coats my tongue.I instinctually shake my head even though he can’t see me.
“No, I’m fine.Better safe than sorry, so I’ll bring a few with me just in case.”
“I thought you had emergency products in your purse already.Did you need to use them?”
I scramble for an excuse, teetering on the edge of panic as I envision the glint of warped interest in his eyes as they soften in concern.
“No, I gave them to a girl at the mall who had an accident, so I need to restock.I think it was her first period, so she wasn’t expecting it.She was so embarrassed.”
I clamp my teeth together and curse my nervous rambling.My father’s silence fills my veins with ice.
