Page 17 of Oath of Protection (Blood Oath Bargains #1)

SEVENTEEN

OATH RENEWED

Six months after the battle, spring sunshine streamed through bulletproof windows that no longer showed scars from gunfire.

Cam stood in the compound's main conference room, watching Nico review security reports with the focused intensity that had made him one of the city's most effective crime bosses.

The transition had been smoother than anyone expected. Sal's gradual handover of power, Dante's promotion to underboss, the integration of former Kozlov assets—all accomplished with the kind of methodical precision that kept families in power for generations.

"Harbor Commission meeting went well," Nico said without looking up from the financial projections spread across the mahogany table. "The new shipping contracts are worth twelve million annually."

"All legitimate?" Cam asked, settling into the chair beside him.

"Completely. We're almost respectable these days." His mouth quirked upward. "Don't tell anyone. It'll ruin our reputation."

They both knew what he meant. The Valente organization had evolved over the past six months, shifting focus from survival to growth, from violence to commerce.

They still operated in gray areas, still commanded respect through strength, but the daily business looked more like corporate strategy sessions than criminal conspiracies.

"Speaking of reputation," Cam said, sliding a surveillance report across the table. "Adrian Sterling's been asking pointed questions about our financial restructuring. He's got a federal contract now—looking into shipping industry money flows."

"Adrian Sterling." Nico set down his pen, expression shifting to business mode. "The forensic accountant who worked the Kozlov investigation?"

"Same one. Independent now, specializes in untangling financial crimes. Very good at what he does." Cam had been tracking Sterling's activities since the man left his previous firm under mysterious circumstances. "Good enough that he's already flagged three of our expansion deals."

"How immediate is this threat?"

"Very. He's got access to everything—federal databases, banking records, shipping manifests. If he connects the dots..." Cam pulled out his phone, showing intercepted communications. "And he's specifically targeting our harbor contracts."

Nico studied the intelligence, his jaw tightening. "Can we buy him off?"

"He's clean. Turned down a seven-figure offer from Meridian Industries last year because they had ethics violations.

" Cam met his eyes. "But there's something else.

I recognize his name from military circles.

He consulted on a financial investigation in Afghanistan—same operation where I lost Rodriguez and Martinez. "

The weight of that connection settled between them. Personal history intersecting with current threats, the way it always did in their world.

"What do you recommend?"

"We need to clean up the financial structures completely. New holding companies, legitimate investment portfolios, distance ourselves from anything that looks questionable." Cam's voice was steady, professional. "It'll cost us millions in restructuring, but it's better than federal prosecution."

A knock at the door interrupted their discussion. Matt entered with the measured pace of a man who'd been advising crime families for two decades.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said, "but Dante's here for the security briefing. And there's been an incident."

"What kind of incident?" Nico asked.

"One of the old-guard soldiers questioned Cam's authority during the perimeter check. Nothing serious, but..." Matt's expression was carefully neutral. "It might be worth addressing before tonight's ceremony."

Cam felt tension coil in his stomach. Six months in, and he was still proving himself to men who'd been with the family longer than he'd been alive.

"Who?" Nico's voice carried an edge.

"Torretti. Twenty-year veteran, good soldier, but he's having trouble adjusting to new leadership structures."

"I'll handle it," Cam said, already standing.

"We'll handle it," Nico corrected. "Together."

They found Dante in the security office, reviewing patrol schedules with focused attention. He looked up as they entered, his expression shifting to concern.

"The Torretti situation?" Nico asked without preamble.

"Handled. Had a conversation with him about chain of command and family loyalty." Dante's voice was diplomatically neutral. "He understands his position now."

"What exactly did he say?" Cam asked.

Dante hesitated, glancing between them. "Questioned whether someone who'd been family for six months should have the same authority as soldiers who'd bled for the organization for decades."

The words stung more than they should have. Cam had heard variations of this before, usually whispered behind his back.

"And your response?" Nico's voice was deadly quiet.

"Reminded him that family isn't about time served. It's about loyalty, competence, and willingness to die for what matters." Dante met Cam's eyes. "And that questioning your authority means questioning the Don's judgment."

Nico nodded approvingly, but Cam found himself wondering if Torretti was alone in his concerns. How many other soldiers smiled to his face while questioning his legitimacy behind closed doors?

"There's something else," Dante continued. "Sofia wants to see you both before the ceremony. Something about family traditions."

They found Sofia in the kitchen, surrounded by the controlled chaos of preparing for a formal family gathering. Her silver hair was perfect despite the heat from multiple ovens, and she wore an elegant dress that made clear this was an important occasion.

"Nico, Cam." She wiped her hands on a towel, studying both of them with sharp eyes. "Come here. Let me look at you."

Cam submitted to her inspection, aware that Sofia's approval carried weight throughout the family. She'd raised four children in this house, buried one son, watched the others grow into a business that could kill them any day.

"You look tired," she said to Cam, her fingers tracing the tension lines around his eyes. "Are you sleeping?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Valente."

"Sofia. And you're not fine. You're carrying too much weight." Her gaze shifted between them. "Both of you. This ceremony tonight—it's not just about making things official. It's about you both accepting what you've become."

"What have we become?" Nico asked quietly.

"Partners. In every sense that matters." Sofia's voice carried the authority of someone who'd seen three generations of Valente men struggle with love and loyalty. "Question is whether you're both ready to admit it."

Before either of them could respond, she pressed a small wooden box into Cam's hands. "This belonged to my father. He wore it for fifty years of marriage, through war and peace, prosperity and loss."

Inside was a simple gold ring, worn smooth by decades of wear. Not expensive, but weighty with history.

"Sofia," Cam started, but she silenced him with a look.

"Tonight, you swear loyalty to this family. But family isn't just about blood oaths and business arrangements. It's about choosing each other, every day, even when it's difficult." Her eyes found Nico's. "Especially when it's difficult."

They made their way to the family chapel as evening fell, the small room filling with everyone who mattered to the Valente organization. Sal, Bianca with her daughters, Dante and the senior soldiers, even Matt with his ever-present legal documents.

But as Cam stood facing the assembled family, he found himself thinking about belonging versus independence, about what he'd given up to be here.

Six months ago, he'd owned his own business, made his own decisions, answered to no one.

Now he was part of something larger, bound by loyalties that transcended personal choice.

"This is unusual," Sal said from his position at the simple altar. "In sixty-five years, I've never formally inducted someone who wasn't born into the family or married into it. But these are unusual times."

The ceremony was briefer than Cam had expected—simple words about loyalty, protection, and family bonds. But when it came time for his own oath, he found himself thinking about the ring in his pocket, about Sofia's words, about the difference between belonging and being trapped.

"Do you swear to protect the Valente name and all who bear it?" Sal asked.

"I do."

"Do you swear to honor our traditions, respect our bonds, and place family loyalty above all other considerations?"

Cam's eyes found Nico's face in the small crowd. "I do."

"Do you swear to serve as shield and sword, to stand between danger and those you've sworn to protect?"

"I do."

Sal nodded, satisfaction flickering across his weathered features. "Then by blood spilled and trust earned, you are family. What binds us binds you."

After the ceremony, family members began to disperse to their various homes and responsibilities. Sofia kissed his cheek and told him to take care of her son, Dante offered grudging respect for the formal recognition, and even some of the older soldiers seemed to accept his new status.

But as Cam shook hands and accepted congratulations, he found himself wondering if this was what he really wanted—or if he'd simply been swept along by circumstances beyond his control.

"Second thoughts?" Nico asked quietly as they climbed the stairs to his private quarters.

"Just... processing." Cam paused at the window overlooking the compound grounds. "Six months ago, I was independent. My own boss, my own rules, my own choices."

"And now?"

"Now I'm part of something I don't fully understand. Bound by loyalties I never chose, responsible to people I barely know." Cam turned to face him. "Sometimes I wonder if I've lost myself in your world."

Nico was quiet for a moment, studying his face. "Do you want to leave?"

The question hung between them, honest and direct. Cam felt something twist in his chest—not at the thought of leaving, but at the realization that he couldn't imagine walking away anymore.

"No," he said finally. "But I need to know I'm here because I want to be, not because I'm trapped by family loyalty."

"You're here because I need you. Because we work better together than apart." Nico stepped closer, his hands settling on Cam's shoulders. "Because choosing you was the best decision I ever made."

"Even when it complicates everything?"

"Especially then." Nico's mouth found his, soft and sure. "Love isn't supposed to be simple."

They moved to the bedroom with less desperation than their first times, but with deeper certainty. Six months of learning each other's rhythms, of mapping every sensitive spot, of discovering what made the other gasp and arch and surrender completely.

"I love this," Nico said against his throat as they fell onto the bed together. "Having you in my space, in my life, in my bed every night."

"Sometimes I wonder if you're here because you want me," Cam admitted, his hands working the buttons of Nico's shirt, "or because you're trapped by what we've built."

"Both." Nico's honesty was stark, direct. "I'm trapped by how much I want you. By how empty everything feels when you're not here." His mouth found the scar on Cam's shoulder, gentle and reverent. "Are you here because you love me, or because leaving would mean starting over completely?"

"Both," Cam echoed, understanding the complexity in a way he hadn't six months ago. "I'm trapped by how much I need this. Need you."

They made love with the confidence of established lovers, but underneath the familiarity was something deeper—recognition that they'd chosen each other not despite the complications, but because of them. Because easy love wasn't worth having.

"What do we want?" Nico asked afterward, their bodies still tangled together in the lamplight. "Five years from now, ten years from now—what does this look like?"

"I don't know." Cam's fingers traced patterns on his chest, following old scars and new certainties. "I've never planned that far ahead."

"Neither have I. But I want to." Nico's voice was soft, thoughtful. "I want to build something that lasts beyond survival."

"Like what?"

"Like maybe getting married. Officially, legally, in front of everyone who matters." Nico's eyes met his. "Like maybe adopting kids who need families. Like maybe building something good out of all this darkness."

The words hung in the air. Marriage. Kids. A future that felt both impossible and inevitable.

"That's a lot of future to plan," he said carefully.

"Too much?"

"Not too much. Just... new." Cam shifted to face him fully. "I spent eight years keeping other people alive. Never thought about what I wanted to live for."

"And now?"

"Now I want to live for this. For us. For whatever we can build together." Cam's thumb traced Nico's lower lip. "For the family we choose and the legacy we leave behind."

Nico smiled, the expression lighting up his face. "So we're doing this? Really doing this?"

"We're doing this." Cam reached for the bedside drawer, pulling out the small wooden box Sofia had given him. "Starting with this."

The ring was simple, worn smooth by decades of love and commitment. When Cam slipped it onto Nico's finger, it felt like more than a ceremony—it felt like a choice they were making together.

"Some oaths are worth keeping forever," Nico said, echoing the inscription on the watch he'd given Cam months ago.

"This one especially."

Outside, spring rain began to fall against windows that would never again show bullet holes.

The compound settled into evening quiet, secure in ways that had nothing to do with weapons or walls and everything to do with the bonds between people who'd chosen each other over blood, over safety, over every rational consideration.

In the morning, there would be business to conduct, problems to solve, Adrian Sterling's investigation to navigate.

But tonight, there was only the quiet satisfaction of promises made and kept, of love that had survived war and family politics and the weight of building something permanent in a dangerous world.

"I have one more promise to make," Cam said, his voice steady in the lamplight.

"What's that?"

"That whatever comes next—Sterling's investigation, family politics, whatever crisis we haven't seen coming—we face it together. As partners in everything that matters."

"Partners," Nico agreed, the word carrying weight it hadn't held six months ago. "In everything."

Some partnerships were built on contracts. Others were built on trust so deep it became unbreakable.

This one was built on love, formally sworn and permanently sealed, strong enough to last beyond their lifetimes.

Some things were worth swearing your life to.

Some people were worth keeping forever.