Page 3 of Ruined Vows (Borrelli Mafia #5)
VUKAN
GAME ON, PRINCESS
I t started in the warehouse.
Before the truce. Before the war ended, and before the words were uttered to make her mine.
Revenge hung in the air.
And then she walked in.
Bianca Borrelli.
Bathed in black. Not green, not softness—not the warm and caring woman who volunteers at shelters and donates to children’s charities.
No, the night of the showdown, she was dressed to fight. Skin-tight tactical wear, combat boots that echoed like gunshots, and a stare that could cut through steel.
She doesn’t know it—yet. The minute I saw her storm into the warehouse, she was mine.
I had the inside track on her arrival, courtesy of her brother, who wanted me to apprehend her so that she wouldn’t be held by a soldier who wasn’t in on our plan.
She met my gaze, and her hazel eyes flashed to that of emerald, like the green hills of Ireland, and she was intent on ending me.
She thought I was going to kill her, but she showed no fear.
There was no flinch in her step—just lethal purpose, sleek and silent. I wasn’t prepared for her to be so, well, deadly. She managed to get a few hits in before I subdued her.
She moved like war wrapped in no restraint.
That was the first moment.
The only moment that ever mattered.
Because something in me stilled. Not softened— stilled. Like my body remembered something my soul hadn’t yet accepted.
One look, one touch, mesmerized me. I knew then that I would have her. She wants ten dates? Fine. Because I never lose.
She wasn’t like any woman I’d ever known.
She wasn’t meant to be touched.
She was meant to be worshiped.
She’s the kind of woman a man burns down kingdoms for—not to place her on a throne but to earn the right to stand beside her.
She looked at me across the chaos.
Not past me. Not through me.
At me.
Like I was a question she didn’t like the answer to.
And I burned for it.
She is Matteo’s sister, the enemy.
She’s the Borrellis’ crown jewel.
Off-limits.
Untouchable.
But right then, standing in the hollow of a broken empire, with blood and brains on my boots, and loyalty weighing down my shoulders, I decided she was mine.
I didn’t care how long it took. I didn’t care what war started over it because a man doesn’t walk away from a queen .
Not when she looks at him like she’s already reading my sins.
And not when I know?—
I’d commit them all over again to hear her say my name.
That’s why I called in my favor.
Because I have to have her.
I’ve never been so hard for a woman, which means one thing.
I will have her. And she will beg for me to take her.
In the warehouse, she thought she could take me. She punched me hard, but it didn’t faze me. I give her credit for her deftness in the field. Truthfully, she would have taken out lesser men.
I was impressed, to say the least. She didn’t anticipate I’d be so spry and muscular for my age because I quickly subdued her in my arms. She mouthed off, telling me to go fuck myself in Italian. I assume she did so in five other languages, as I didn’t understand anything she said after that.
I was captivated by her perfect lips. The green flash of her eyes was devastating.
She’s a woman who will start wars.
She’s a woman men will die over.
When she enters a room, she owns it, not because of what she wears or how well she wears it.
But because she commands it.
After the gunfire stilled, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.
And that’s why I used my favor with Matteo.
In our line of work, having some markers is always prudent, especially since I was involved in the plot to overthrow my brother.
It’s not taken likely, killing a king.
The fact that I planned it makes it worse. But that’s the secret that I’ll take to my grave.
Because Milo? was my older brother, the aftermath of the war left me with a fractured empire. Wars are frowned upon. But assuming the throne over an unnatural death is a sin that destroys empires.
My brother was unpredictable, and it was only rivaled by his cruelty. He was a psychopath. Half the men were worried over their future under his rule, and the other half did his bidding over fear of angering him, which meant death.
One way or another, he had to go. Our criminal syndicate would have collapsed if he had remained our leader much longer. The risk was being absorbed by another syndicate of falling into oblivion.
Sure, every leader has opposition. But Milo? courted dissension in the ranks. His personality fanned the flames of destruction due to his uneven temperament and arrogance.
Men were discontent. Grievances festered like sores. My brother was making one mess after another. Milo? wasn’t a rational man. He was self-absorbed. He surrounded himself with men who told him what he wanted to hear, not what he needed to hear.
I wouldn’t be where I am today if I didn’t anticipate dissension in the ranks. I’m flirting with disaster. I have to clean up his messes and clean house.
I’m sure a takeover is brewing, and I need to be prepared because my men don’t like changes. The hierarchy will change with a new ruler, and some will feel slighted.
And I bring changes. Not only will I end the trafficking, but I will also bring a woman into the fold.
And that will not go over well with my council.
They’ll see my Italian bride as a weakness. They’ll say I sold out to the enemy. But nothing could be further from the truth.
But in the end, it doesn’t matter.
Because I will marry Bianca Borrelli.
Because she’s mine.
She just doesn’t know it—yet.
And I will protect my queen, no matter what the cost.