Page 20 of Ruined Vows (Borrelli Mafia #5)

VUKAN

BUSINESS AND BLOODLINES

M y estate’s private war room is quiet. The lighting is soft, and God knows, I need a calming vibe. I don’t have to worry about leaks because nothing said in this space ever leaves it.

David leans against the far wall with his arms crossed. He might be silent, but he is always thinking. He’s unusually pensive today. He has a way of mixing serious business with entertaining retorts, which is another reason I love him so much.

Perhaps it’s another reason why Bianca is perfect for me. She seamlessly fits into my life and my world. But that’s neither here nor there. Because right now, I need to focus on the tasks at hand.

Dragan lounges in a chair with his boots kicked up on the table, like this is his second home. And it is. He’s always here. He needs to find a good woman who gives him a reason to go home.

I know how it is, because being alone for years, we become accustomed to our own voice, and at times, the noise. With no one at home, it’s easy to fill our lives with our work, and switching gears becomes too challenging to navigate .

Even now, I love the range and the sounds of guns firing, which make me feel alive. Bachelors like us become entrenched in routines that wouldn’t exist if we had someone to love, or someone to go home to.

It’s the reason my mansion is filled with precious works of art and sculptures. It’s pretty to look at, but it won’t keep me warm on a cold night. Not unless I burn the paintings, that is.

Luka taps away at his phone, probably shifting six figures between accounts with one hand and ordering a case of the best whiskey with the other.

Filip opens a soda and leans back on the expensive sofa.

Emilia? She doesn’t sit. She stands beside the floor-to-ceiling windows, dressed in a charcoal designer pantsuit, her gaze fixed on the wind as she watches the rain clouds blow around.

These are my loyalists, and even they look uneasy. This tells me I’m not going to like their reports.

“I trust each of you,” I say, voice low but heavy. “If there’s doubt, say it now.”

David looks up first. “No doubt. Just warning. Radovan’s pushing harder. The ones who used to bow to Milo? are pretty quiet now. But I don’t trust it.”

“He’s testing us, waiting to see what we’ll do,” Luka says. “He wants to see who will follow him if he makes a move.”

I’m not surprised. I knew Radovan hated me. He was my brother’s most loyal soldier.

Dragan grunts. “Let me take him out. One shot. Bam!” he says as he mocks the pulling of a trigger.

“The body doesn’t have to surface,” Filip chuckles. “I second that.”

I lift a hand. “Not yet.”

Emilia finally speaks. “You know he’s not afraid of you anymore. That’s the problem. He thinks your focus is… divided.” She turns to face us, placing her hands on her hips.

We all know what that means .

Bianca.

I’m not surprised. He’s brought it to my attention.

“She’s not a distraction,” I say evenly. They don’t need to know I’m obsessed with her.

“No,” Emilia replies. “She’s leverage. That makes her a liability in the wrong hands.”

David steps forward. “Then keep her close, in plain sight. Make it clear she’s not your weakness. She’s your weapon.”

He gives me a knowing look. He knows I’m not a man who falls in love easily. I wait for a few seconds, then I nod.

“We need to double the guards at the estate. Dragan, find out who’s speaking to Radovan behind closed doors. I assume it’s my uncle, but we need more intel. Luka, start by limiting the amount of money in their accounts until this settles.”

I do this because it will put them on notice, but it won’t cause a panic. It will make them think and worry.

“And me?” Emilia asks.

I meet her gaze. “Keep the calm among the loyal council members. Let them believe this is handled.”

She smirks. “And when it isn’t?”

“Then I burn them. Publicly.”

Filip says, “Radovan met twice with your Uncle Milan. Quietly, as in off-book. They’re circling the idea of ‘restoring the old order.’”

I groan. Milo?’ reign was bloody, weak, and chaotic. Are they too stupid to see this? The stupidity of others shouldn’t surprise me, and yet, it does.

“He’s so predictable,” I mutter.

I lean against the cold stone wall. My jaw is clenched. I need to remain calm because reacting is a mistake. I have to be patient. I will give them enough rope to hang themselves.

“Yeah, but it means he’s not alone,” he says.

“True. Thanks for the intel,” I say.

If they move at all, it will be soon. But if they touch Bianca? —

There will be no shadow left of them.

And an hour later, we emerge to attend the council meetings in the large dining room, which features a huge table. This serves as our boardroom. The council is comprised of eleven men and my cousin, Emilia.

These members of my syndicate are the founding bloodlines from the old world and the new. And when I enter, their looks are subdued. This is concerning.

I take my place at the head of the table. I let the room settle before I speak. David is beside me, Emilia to my right. The others? Some loyal. Some leaning. Some are already halfway turned to the defectors.

“No doubt you’ve heard the whispers.”

A few men murmur. The room is filled with tension and unease. A few men shift in their seats.

“I’ll make it simple,” I continue. “The Petrovi? name stands. So does its future. If you doubt me, speak now. But remember—if you challenge me, you challenge everything we’ve rebuilt and everything I have planned to grow.

I have powerful alliances that can help us and will give you the money you want. ”

One man clears his throat. Milan Petrovi?—My father’s brother. He thought this empire should have been his after my father died—the man who watched Milo? wear the crown he coveted.

He never forgot that slight. And now he’s watching me wear it. I know he’s not happy.

“Some are concerned,” he says slowly, “about… emotional investments. That our leader has aligned himself too closely with the Borrelli name. She’s an Italian.”

He’s always the first to test boundaries. He’s family by blood. But damn it if he’s not an asshole.

I don’t blink. Instead, I stare him down. My eyes are cold and hard. I pull from my past to look menacing.

“The woman I’m marrying is a Borrelli,” I say. “She’s also the reason three of our rivals now fear me more than ever. Because I have something to lose.”

The silence is so thick I can hardly breathe.

“She doesn’t make me weaker,” I add. “She makes me unpredictable and violent .”

David stifles a smirk. Emilia looks pleased. Luka leans in like he just placed a bet and knows it’s going to hit.

“She stays,” I snarl. “Unless you want to try to remove her. And you have to go through me.”

My voice doesn’t rise. It doesn’t have to because they all know what I’d do to a man who touches what’s mine.

He dissents because he can, knowing I can’t kill him unless he crosses an unforgivable line. I’m sure he knows I was instrumental in my brother’s downfall. So there’s that.

He’s a thorn in my side. I carry him because he can’t chew bubble gum and walk at the same time, let alone lead our family. We’ve inherited him like an heirloom—only those can be useful.

Him? Decidedly not.

However, he is calculating. I’ll give him that. My brother ruled for years, and he never made his move; he just waited, like a lion who observes its prey before the kill. Milo? always kept one eye open when it came to him.

I trust him even less. The only question is, will he pounce this time? Is he a hunter or will he be prey?

Milan thinks I’m unworthy and now, weakened by a woman. But he doesn’t understand that Bianca didn’t weaken me—she gave me something worth burning the world to protect.

I meet his gaze. The Borrellis are an alliance. I build empires, not destroy them. Unless, of course, they deserve to be destroyed.” I send him a look that tells him he’s gone too far.

“You all know Milo? ran us into the ground. I have new deals in place. We’ll reap profit and clout. And I’m here to tell you that everyone needs to fall in line.” I slam my hand on the table to make my point.

Damn him for pissing me off. He’s a problem, but I can’t remove him. Not yet.

The meeting turns to business at hand, and I hope I’ve proven that I can replace the trafficking money with guns and other deals. This will alleviate the immediate concerns the council has regarding revenue.

Two hours later, we adjourn. I’m exhausted. Running the empire is not as glamorous as Milan thinks it is. At times, it’s downright exhausting.

But I’m building a future, one that I want to share with Bianca, and that motivates me.

Later in the afternoon, I’m at the Borrelli warehouse, inside Matteo’s office, which smells of leather, gun oil, and ambition.

Cold concrete and sharp metal, laced with the sweat of men who didn’t make it.

It’s the kind of place where nothing’s ever said outright, but everything gets done.

Deals, threats, and dreams stitched together in silence and strategy.

Matteo’s already at the long metal table, jacket tossed over the back of a folding chair, sleeves rolled to his elbows like he’s prepping for surgery.

His fingers sail over the manifest pages with a reverence that borders on religious, like each line is gospel and deviation is sin.

A half-empty, long, cold coffee mug at his side, an imprint of hours passed.

He doesn’t look up when I enter, but I can feel it—the awareness, the clockwork of his mind already ten steps ahead. He’s been in the fray almost as long as I have—Long enough to get comfortable. Long enough to be very dangerous.

“Brought the specs?” I ask, eyes scanning the crates along the wall, listening for the echo of footsteps that aren’t there.

He sets the briefcase on the table with a dull clunk , the sound of metal on metal. Pops it open with a flick of his wrist, deliberate—no wasted movement.