Page 59 of Ruined Vows
Matteo leans back slightly, his eyes narrowing—not suspicion, but calculating. That quiet math he’s always doing behind his gaze. Then, like he’s tossing in a card to sweeten the pot, he says, “She still volunteers at that children’s shelter.”
I raise a brow. “The one for the babies?”
He nods. “She always did like messy places. You’d think she’s like the country clubs, but they’re too polished for her. Bianca doesn’t pull punches.”
I stay silent. No, there’s nothing fake about babies who end up in state-run facilities. And there’s nothing phony about Bianca, either.
That’s what I love about her. She’s balls to the wall. She’s a person who likes to get things done, and she’s not afraid to roll up her sleeves.
“She’s good with them,” he adds. “Better than she lets on. Spends hours with the babies. I know she funds them more than she tells me.”
So, she likes children. Not only does she help them, but she also carries their stories.
My jaw tightens. Just a little.
Matteo notices. Of course he does. “She doesn’t talk about it much. You know how she is. Fire on the outside, all hell on the inside.”
“What was her childhood like?”
The words come out before I can soften the question. I’m hungry to know everything about her.
Matteo looks at me now—not as a partner, but as a brother. Guarded. Reluctant. But honest.
“Hard,” he says after a beat. “You’d think she grew up wrapped in warmth, love, and finery, but you weren’t there when our mother died. She was a newborn without a mother. You didn’t see how she stopped sleeping with the lights off after Dad started punishing her the way he did Mom.”
I stay still. My breath slows. Rage simmers in my chest quietly. If her old man wasn’t dead already, I’d put him in the ground myself.
Matteo taps the file. “You want her to trust you?”
“She already does.”
“She thinks she doesn’t. That’s worse.”
I nod once and take the briefcase he offers me. Its weight is nothing compared to what I just heard. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me.” He smirks, but there’s no humor in it. “It’s not over yet.”
And for once, he’s not referring to business, but his beloved sister. There’s a message in what he’s shared. I leave the warehouse with more than weapons on my mind.
The one thing she’s not is a princess waiting to be worshipped. I can give Bianca attention. Protection. Is she my obsession? Sure. She’s also a woman who built her identity out of the ashes of a broken family and a masochistic father.
So, how do I prove myself to a woman like that?
I don’t promise her the world—she’ll conquer it on her own. Instead, I’ll build one for her, built on the foundation of integrity, loyalty, and love.
It will be built with no expectation of praise.
And maybe—just maybe—she’ll let me live in it with her.
My brother has been followingBianca for a week.
One: to keep her safe. Two: to learn more about her.
So far, I’ve learned she loves coffee drinks—iced, hot, complicated. Her food tastes on the other are are pretty eclectic. Steak one night, sushi the next, street tacos in between. This week, at least.
I don’t even know if she can cook. But if she does, she doesn’t seem to do it often. I have a housekeeper, Irina, who’s a fantastic cook. Irina has been with me for many years and is trustworthy. She’s not family, but she’s family just the same. She’s an angel, loyal and loving. I’m sure she will approve of Bianca.
Meanwhile, I already know I’m going to take Bianca to the best restaurant in Japan. I’ll rent out the dining room. It will be just the two of us. I’ll introduce her to the best sushi, made bya third-generation sushi chef. I’ll fly her there on my private jet. We’ll be alone and without distractions. The hotel I’ve picked has a spa that has made pampering an art form.
