The Wrong Vow: Bred by the Mafia Twins
"Sign the contract. Produce an heir. And never question what happens in the dark."
Cora Belmont was not supposed to be here.
Her sister was the one meant to marry Roman Falcone — East Coast crime boss, untouchable, allegedly monstrous. Her family didn't give Cora a choice. They gave her a sedative.
She woke up in silk sheets, with a contract on the pillow and a pen placed precisely against her lips.
Sign it, or your family loses more than you.
So Cora signs. She signs away her body, her autonomy, and any illusion she had about what marriage means in a world of men who treat women like ledger entries.
What she doesn't sign away is her mind. And her mind begins keeping records.
Because her husband is impossible.
Some nights he is Roman Falcone — cold, brutal, exacting, who takes what he wants and leaves without a word.
Other nights, someone comes to her bedroom who touches her like she is the only precious thing in a world of violence. Who whispers her name like a prayer. Who smells of sandalwood instead of gunsmoke.
Cora tells herself she's losing her mind. She sets a camera. She watches the footage.
And then a thunderstorm lights up the sky outside her window — and she sees both of them.
Roman in the doorway, gun in hand, reeking of fresh blood.
And Rocco Falcone — The Shadow, the ghost who was never supposed to exist — still in her bed.
They are twins. They are equally dangerous. They are both completely obsessed with her.
And when Cora tries to run, she discovers that one Falcone is impossible to escape. Two Falcones simply don't accept the concept of escape at all.
The wrong vow was just the beginning.