Page 30 of My Solemn Vow (The Mafia Arrangement #1)

VALOR

AND A STACK OF WINGS

Antonella and I aren’t completely uncomfortable and awkward together. But the drive from the hotel to the restaurant is more silent than I’d like.

We’re back and forth with random, meaningless nonsense as Midwesterners do — the weather, the changing colors of the leaves, and how neither of us cares for sports.

But we can’t find a groove. Instead, we’re stuck somewhere between overly familiar and perfect strangers, which is exactly what we are.

We’ve fucked, but unlike a one-night stand that I can send on her way, Antonella is mine. Mine.

My wolf thumps his tail in agreement.

I refuse to be miserable for the rest of my life.

I’m not living with awkward trips out into public.

I’ve got to fix this. Figure out how to make this a working relationship.

If I can negotiate with a massive language barrier in place, crack some of the top mercenaries in the business, I can certainly handle Antonella D’Medici.

When we reach the bar and grill, I back the SUV into a space so we’re facing the door. I ask mostly politely, “Wait for me?”

Antonella nods, and I climb out and walk around to her door while casually glancing at our surroundings. We’re deep in the middle of Cavanagh pack territory, and the chances of anyone bringing any sort of trouble here are slim, but odds are never zero. Being aware of your surroundings is free.

I open her door and offer her my hand. Antonella takes it, and once she’s clear of the closing car door, I drop her hand and walk backward away from her.

I try for playful rather than intimidating as I explain myself. “I was thinking we could make this like a date.”

“Like a date?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

The suspicious side-eyed look is cute as fuck.

“Why not?” I shrug, taking another step away from her. “We’re already married, we can’t date too?”

I want to hold out my hand, to walk hand and hand with her to the restaurant even though the parking lot is small. But I don’t because I’m a coward, afraid to be rejected by the woman I’ve married, fucked, and met this morning. Not in that order, but why would I put myself up for rejection?

“So, you’re taking me to a burger joint for our first date?” She looks up at the sign above the door with an overexaggerated squint.

“And wings,” I add, pointing to that part of the sign before holding the door open for her.

I like this easy banter. The sassiness from her. I wasn’t lying when I told her I like her spark.

“This place is a favorite,” I say as she walks through the door.

Other women, especially those who come from a lifestyle with money, would, without a doubt, feel some sort of way about me taking them to a burger joint, but Antonella’s disgust is fake and all in jest.

She’s smiling and her shoulders are relaxed. Composed-and-calm Antonella seems to be fading away, and I’m seeing more of the woman underneath. The woman who isn’t there for display purposes only .

Usual friendly service sees us seated in a booth in a quieter portion of the restaurant, and with drink orders taken and delivered, silence settles between us.

I try to come up with something that won’t sound like an interrogation, but ‘tell me about yourself’ is such a basic conversation starter. This isn’t an interrogation. Get to know her , not what she knows. But the longer I sit with that, the answer is obviously to do both.

“What’s something that’s always been on your bucket list that’s easy to do, or visit or whichever, but you haven’t done?” Antonella asks, breaking the awkwardness before I can.

It’s unexpected, and I find myself stuck with the question. My mind goes a little blank at the thought, and despite knowing that not having an answer is generally not what people want to hear from a leader, I tell her the truth. “I’m not sure... I have anything.”

“What?” Antonella scrunches her face, giving me a slightly disapproving look. “Everyone has a bucket list. Something you want to do or see before you die. It can be as silly as, like, wanting to swim with sharks.”

I shake my head but wobble my hand. “No? I guess. I have goals but not set things I’d like to do.”

“Such as?” Antonella presses.

“I’d like to go a full year without being shot at.” I can’t help but smile. “Though, maybe... my luck has changed, and the next year will be the one.”

Antonella, who had been taking a sip, almost spits it out in a laugh. “Oh, good God. Can you imagine life without always looking over your shoulder? I was close in grad school, but... well... men.”

I hum my agreement. While it’s not the same, even if I’m not getting shot at, I know there are plenty of enemies looking to take the pack down.

And it’s possible, even within the pack, that someone is looking to unseat the Cavanaghs from the alpha position.

My birthright is not a guarantee. A challenge could come.

“What got you into teaching?” I ease myself into the dozens of questions I want to ask her.

Be friendly, take an interest not an interrogation. When did my job become an interference in interacting with people like a regular person?

“I’ve always loved kids.” Antonella’s smile comes back.

“I guess it comes from having a big family. Teaching was something I thought I’d be good at.

College was the only way I was getting some separation from the life that was expected of me.

I knew I’d never fully get away from it, but it was something I could do for me. It’s why, uhm, I kept things so —”

She struggles for a word, and her cheeks flush. I can’t smell her arousal over the other scents in the restaurant, but I assume it’s there.

I offer her an out. “Platonic?”

“Divinely feminine.” Antonella corrects me.

“Bringing someone home would never have been acceptable. Gregorio kept bouncing around having a plan for me. It was easier not to argue with him. And it was easier to hide something going on between me and someone I could pretend was a gal pal, not a girlfriend.”

I hold back my next question and try to come up with something relatable to what she shared, but we have nothing in common in that regard.

Until today, there had been options, and had I found my mate, I could have been with her, no problems. Sure, I had an expectation that it may be arranged if the time came, but my parents wouldn’t have denied me someone if I truly wanted them.

I’ve also never had to hide who I was from the people who care for me. It seems that maybe Antonella and I have very similar thoughts toward Gregorio D’Medici if I read between those lines .

“What about you? Did younger Valor ever think about leaving the chaos and never looking back?” She prompts, chaos clearly code for criminal lifestyle.

“I never wanted to escape my destiny. I knew from an early age I was the next head of the family. I’ve wanted it for a long time.

Maybe it’s too 1950s of me, but I always knew what my life would look like, and I liked what I saw.

Maybe that’s more an answer to your bucket question.

Life with a ma — nsion, a kid... and a wife. ”

I nearly blow that sentence, and I can’t believe it.

Normally I’m better about keeping my guard up when talking to humans.

Antonella will learn soon enough that we’re not the same.

But a restaurant is not the place to tell her that wolf shifters exist. It’s hardly even a place to have the ‘mate’ sort of conversation.

“I suppose that’s probably a good thing.” Antonella gives a resounding sigh. “It’ll be interesting to learn your expectations of me.”

I take a sip of my beer before extending an olive branch. “If you want to teach, there’s no reason you can’t continue to.”

Antonella quirks a brow, and her lips part a fraction.

It’s not intended to be sexual, but I’m stuck somewhere on the spectrum between interrogating and fucking.

On one end, I want to know everything about her, from what makes her tick and what she knows about the D’Medici empire.

I want to grill her for information and see how long before she cracks.

On the other hand, I want to bend her over the nearest surface, make her scream my name, and then watch my cock disappear between those slightly parted lips.

“I would really like to keep teaching,” Antonella softly says.

The restaurant isn’t the place to have this sort of conversation, but it’s also not the place to bend her over and fuck her.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been attracted to someone like this, and leaving the hotel room is quickly becoming the worst mistake I’ve made today.

It’s probably just the year-long, self- imposed dry spell making it all that much harder to keep my thoughts tame.

The dry spell I implemented after some serious guilt over spending time with hookups instead of Kerrianne.

Yeah, we’ll go with that, my wolf huffs.

I force myself out of the fantasy of fucking her mouth and let the burning questions bubble to the surface, disguising them as polite conversation rather than demands.

“I’m interested to know how you were the one to come to Kerrianne’s aid.

I’m equal parts grateful and, as I’m sure you can understand, suspicious of the circumstances.

Are you a teacher in a neighboring class? ”

“Sooo...” Antonella runs her fingers through her hair and then sighs.

“Funny story about that. I had no idea Kerrianne was a student at the school. I wouldn’t have taken the job had I known she went there, Valor.

But I had a... well...” Antonella backtracks.

“How friendly are you with Peyton Hopkins?”

I shake my head, thinking about the exchange in the principal’s office.