Page 41 of Ruined Vows (Borrelli Mafia #5)

BIANCA

PAPER CHAINS

I wake up in silk sheets that smell like the ocean and money. And for the first time in years, I don’t wake up fighting.

No nightmares. No shadows curling behind my eyes. Just warmth and an odd peace.

Ironically, it unnerves me more than any bullet ever has.

The light filtering through the curtains is pale gold, the kind that promises the morning is still mine. I stretch under the covers and try to remember the last time I didn’t wake up tangled in tension, or with the taste of some long-dead memory in my mouth.

And I can’t. I sit up slowly, taking in the air that is free from monsters and memories I can’t forget.

This place is sublime. It’s peaceful. And there is this man.

He’s making me want him. He’s tearing down my walls, brick by brick. He did it patiently and carefully, but the result is the same as if a bulldozer had leveled me, and its name is Vukan.

My phone buzzes softly on the nightstand. The screen shows a clean, elegantly designed itinerary—no excess, no fluff .

Just this:

7:30 a.m. – Breakfast, private terrace.

9:00 a.m. – Infinity Pool, rooftop.

That’s it. No guards. And no staff hovering. Just him and me. And water with no edge. My heart gives a little stutter that I immediately strangle.

No. There will be no softness. There will be no touching. Or kissing.

I’m bringing my A-game.

I slip out of bed and walk to the wardrobe, already planning my retaliation. If I’m falling, he’s going first.

Today, he drowns in me.

I pull out the swimsuit I’ve been saving for the kind of revenge you don’t have to raise your voice for.

It’s a deep blue one-shoulder, high-cut, low back, and laced along one hip in a way that borders on criminal. I pair it with a sheer black wrap that floats when I move, dark sunglasses, and gold ankle cuffs that clink softly with every step like a warning.

I apply subtle bronzer to my cheeks. My shimmering brown lipstick matches it, giving me a sun-kissed glow. I smack my lips together out of habit. Satisfied with my glossy lips, it’s show time.

My hair is undone but deliberate. I look like temptation on vacation. And it’s not for him. It’s for me. Because my ego is fragile and I want him. Maybe more than anything I ever wanted before.

God , do I want him.

And he didn’t touch me. Didn’t kiss me. He didn’t even reach for me, and that hurt. So today I’ll smile and play the game. I’ll wear sin like perfume and float beside him in endless water.

And he’ll break.

Because if Vukan Petrovi? wants to pretend he’s not already mine ?

Then I’m going to make damn sure he feels it in his bones.

My mission is to make him sweat.