All Chapters of Forgotten Vows: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Her face stops time, and five years of hatred melt away in an instant. Aleta Ricci stands in front of me like an apparition from a past I've tried to bury—more beautiful than she has any right to be. It’s been three years since I've seen her, and five since she disappeared from that villa in Positano without so much as a goodbye. Five fucking years of wondering what game she was playing."What an unexpected pleasure," I say, despite the lie tasting bitter on my tongue.She tilts her head to the side, causing midnight black hair to split over one shoulder. "I'm surprised my brother allowed you through the door.""Your brother doesn't control everything, despite what he might think." I take a slow sip of whiskey, allowing myself a moment to really look at her.Aleta Ricci has grown into her beauty. She’s no longer the impulsive twenty-year-old I seduced on an Italian beach. Her body fills out the sequined gown in ways that make my fingers itch to run over every curve. Midnight black hai

Her name burns on my tongue as Aleta disappears into the crowd. Women like her leave destruction in their wake without ever looking back to witness it. Still, my feet move before my brain catches up, driving me through clusters of New York’s elite who stare as I pass.“Castellano,” Nico calls from somewhere behind me. “Stay away from my sister!”Rain hammers the pavement outside by the time I push through the doors, turning the world into a glossy black mirror. Several yards ahead, Aleta’s silhouette stumbles down the marble steps. Her sequined dress has been transformed into a darkened second skin by the downpour.“Aleta!” My voice drowns beneath thunder that shakes the ground beneath my feet.People crowd the covered entrance around me, summoning drivers and valets while discussing the sudden storm. Puddles form around expensive shoes as I descend the stairs two at a time, searching the street for any sign of her.Headlights flash through sheets of water. Tires screech against wet a

Sleep transforms her into something almost innocent. I watch Aleta’s chest rise and fall in steady rhythm while my conscience wages war against five years of carefully cultivated hatred. Her face, relaxed in unconsciousness, bears no trace of the Ricci arrogance that has poisoned my dreams.Building lies requires more creativity than I anticipated. My laptop screen nearly blinds me in the darkness as I fabricate digital evidence of our supposed marriage—doctored photographs, fake certificates, invented memories that blend truth with fiction. Each keystroke should feel like victory, yet guilt creeps in.“You’re working late.” Matteo’s voice interrupts my concentration as he enters the study.“Creating a life story takes time.” My fingers pause over the keyboard. “How does one explain three years of secret marriage to someone with no memory?”“Carefully,” he replies as he settles into the leather chair across from my desk. “Boss, you sure about this? The woman’s been through hell.”“Her

Marco’s latest report reads like a death warrant written in my own blood. Fifty thousand dollars for information leading to Aleta Ricci’s whereabouts, with an additional twenty-five thousand for proof of life. Nico’s desperation bleeds through every word of the bounty notice that’s circulating through New York’s underworld like wildfire.“Boss, we’ve got a problem.” Matteo enters my study with the expression of a man delivering cancer results. “Three different crews have started sniffing around the property perimeter.”My fingers drum against the mahogany desk where photographs of our estate’s security weak points are spread like evidence at a crime scene. “How close did they get?”“Close enough to count windows.” He settles into the chair across from me, and tension radiates from his shoulders. “Giuseppe spotted two men with telephoto lenses positioned across the street this morning.”“And?”“Giuseppe convinced them to find a new hobby. Permanently.”Good. Bodies send clearer message

Guilt tastes like copper pennies and lies when I watch Aleta sleep beside me. Her face holds the peaceful expression of a woman who believes she’s safe in her husband’s arms, while I catalog every way I’ve violated that trust. Making love to her the other night crossed a line I didn’t know still existed, and it blurred the boundaries between revenge and something far more dangerous.My phone vibrates against the nightstand, displaying Marco’s number. Business calls at inconvenient times in our world, but the timing feels particularly cruel after what just happened between us.“I have to take this,” I whisper against Aleta’s hair before carefully extracting myself from her embrace.She mumbles something unintelligible and rolls into the warm spot I’ve vacated, still lost in whatever dreams her damaged mind allows. Beautiful and trusting, completely unaware that the man she gave herself to is the architect of her current nightmare.“Speak,” I answer once I’m safely in the hallway.“Boss