Blood Bound Vows
Isidora Moretti always appeared to be a chess player, overseeing her family’s massive enterprise and grappling with the city’s menacing mafia clans. Her father orders her to marry the Vescari heir, and she discovers that theirs is not romance that would involve love-it is of power and obedience. Declining could be her last word so she thinks of an escape-engagement, a lie she is betting would work. She teams up with Dante Romano,the boy who beats her every time in school. He is good looking, cold, smart and has chased the same deal she wants. He often mocks her stubborn ways and never offers real help.
Still, he oddly agrees to act as her fiancé. The agreement sees only looks, no real feeling involved. It may mean just a clever contract. Business agreement looks clean, no feelings. But Dante seizes Isidora at the engagement party and kisses her in front of the city. Everything becomes upside down. Rivalry and obsession — everything seems to blur. Others soon witness Isidora as Dante’s Achilles’ heel. In another world, weakness is a weapon. Maybe they both have this tilt, not just one side. With threats growing closer-in business offices ,back alleys, and mob hits, both find they need to stand up together. As they fight, they come closer and closer, and each threat reduces the boundaries they’ve constructed between them on their feelings. As danger narrows in on Isidora, Dante’s left to contemplate the sacrifices he’ll make just to keep her safe. He’ll do anything he can to protect her, to make her his, even if it’s damaging everything in his path. In the end, the promises they’ve made, no matter how unserious, appear to be the only thing they can reasonably believe.
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Chapter: Chapter 5The sound of it came first — wrong and delicate and entirely foreign in the stillness of Dante Romano’s penthouse. A scrape of metal against glass, tiny and precise. The faintest click of a lock. My skin prickled before my brain directed it to a logical conclusion. I’d been standing with my back to the window, glancing upon the burn of the city like a constellation of small betrayals, when Dante rose from his desk. He heard it as a hunter hears wind rustle. “Get down.” There was no room for any argument with the command. I wasn’t moving until his body moved me. He was all motion and intention — pulling me low, tossing the entire width of him across my shoulders like armor. Glass flew off near us, glimmering rain. Hot, terrifying bullets tattooed the marble where my head had been a moment before. Dante’s thigh hit me over and over, his forearm pressed over my shoulders. His chest was a great home above my own, a tough, living roof; his heart pounded under my cheek like a ca
Last Updated: 2025-10-22
Chapter: Chapter 4Dante didn’t ask. His men stormed to my door in the morning, black cars lined up on the curb, like sentinels, engines idling, their tinted windows reflecting the pale light of dawn. It was less a neighborhood than a war zone, ready to ignite, as he was living with his old father, and the street outside his house looked much different. My father’s guards bristled: the weapons shifted at their sides, but people did not intervene to stop them. Not when Dante Romano stepped out of the lead car, shoulders squared, coat draped over him like armor. His presence sliced through the air like a blade, hitting a knife into the throat. So he didn’t wait for permission to go inside. Didn’t knock, didn’t ask, didn’t even glance at men who ought to have set him back. Walking through the threshold of my house, the black shoes on his feet never seemed to make a noise against the marble floors, the sharp, cold, confident gaze of his own. “You’re coming with me,” he said. No preamble. No expl
Last Updated: 2025-10-22
Chapter: Chapter 3The applause still hummed in my ears long after the ballroom was closed. The kiss — the damn kiss — had been murmuring in hushed tones, in glasses clinking, in light from camera flashes. To the world, it was proof. To me, it was a mistake. Because I couldn’t get over the thought. Dante brought me upstairs when the party would cease altogether, hand heavy on my small back if you want to call it that, as if he still managed to control my behavior. His smile was serrated edges, a predator comfortable with the anarchy he had constructed. When the suite’s door shut behind us, I wheeled around on him. “What the hell was that?” He tossed off his jacket and tossed it up at a chair with infuriating ease. “A kiss, Bella. Don’t let me know it was your first.” “You had no right—” “No right?” He laughed, low and dangerous. “We’re engaged. Publicly. Officially. You wanted to see a performance, and I produced it. Or would you rather Matteo have kissed you tonight?” The name hit like a sl
Last Updated: 2025-10-22
Chapter: Chapter 2Dante didn’t waste time. Two days after our deal, his black car slid to a stop in front of my family’s estate. The Romano crest on its hood sparkled as though an act of war. Each guard on the property stiffened when he stepped out — because no one entered our house uninvited. Except him. I stood at the door, a diamond solitaire burning on my finger. Dante slipped it on the night before with some sort of casual arrogance—like he hadn’t just redrawn the battlefield of our lives. It was a sharp, heavy stone, made to be seen. “You’re late,” I said when he came to me. "You’re welcome," he answered with an easy smile and brushed past me into the house. That was the dining room, my father at the head of the table, uncles near him; cousins were lined up like soldiers. Dante’s entrance was an even louder echo of those silences. Every gaze tracked him. He prospered under it; quiet, predatory, unbothered. “Mr. Romano,” my father said coolly. “Don.” Dante cocked his head to him, with
Last Updated: 2025-10-22
Chapter: Chapter 1The dining room was designed for intimidation. Crystal chandeliers angled onto dark mahogany walls, and a table long enough to hold twenty glowed like polished blood beneath the candles. My father sat at the head of the table, his glass of Barolo untouched, his silence hefty. I’d grown up in this house, in this family, in the shadow cast by its power, but tonight, the air was like a noose. “You’ll marry him.” In the silence, another voice, that of my father, rose at last. “The families will gather at the wedding. The contracts are already drafted.” My stomach turned cold. Bring together the families. To put it politely, sell your daughter as currency. I knelt, hands on linen, nails biting through my palm beneath the table. “No.” His eyes dropped to mine, black and merciless. “This is no negotiation, Isidora.” He spoke my full name—I hated that. It meant the decision had been etched in stone. “He’s a Vescari,” I responded with a knife-edge glassy voice. “You want to bind me to a
Last Updated: 2025-10-22
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