Page 7 of Ruined Vows
“I’d love to see Italy, too. You’re so lucky. You get to travel the world.”
“It can be lonely,” I state unapologetically.
“I’m lonely and live in one of the world’s largest cities. How pathetic is that?”
“Hey, you’re not alone!” I pour more water into our glasses and lift mine. “Here’s to a better hunting.”
She snickers but raises her glass and touches it to mine. “To better hunting.”
“With my luck, I’ll end up with road kill.”
Joanne all but spits the water onto the table. She places her hand over her lips just in case she sputters. When she’s recovered, she says, “You always get me. You and that snarky attitude of yours. Your future husband will have his hands full.”
“Yeah, like that’s happening any time soon.”
“You never know. You could walk out of here, bump into him, and be married in no time.” She snaps her fingers to embellish her point.
“It’s not in the cards, trust me.”
I’m returning to my condo when my phone beeps.
Matteo.
It’s a summons to the Borrelli compound.
A family meeting.
This isn’t good.
The last time he summoned, we were in his office, AKA the war room. I attended the meetings on the strategy to address our nemesis.
I don’t know why they conveniently overlook me. Just because I’m the baby in the family doesn’t mean I’m incapable of having great ideas.
They can’t speak six languages. I hold my own when we’re sparring, and I’m a great shot. They should be thrilled to have me as their sister.
But no, they only invite me into their world when it’s convenient to them.
I long for the day they see me for who I am.
A bright, capable young woman who is their equal.
2
VUKAN
GAME ON, PRINCESS
It started in the warehouse.
Before the truce. Before the war ended, and before the words were uttered to make her mine.
Revenge hung in the air.
And then she walked in.
Bianca Borrelli.
Bathed in black. Not green, not softness—not the warm and caring woman who volunteers at shelters and donates to children’s charities.
