Page 27 of Vow to Corrupt You (Gods of Corruption #1)

Serena

Frustration. The next few days pass with building frustration inside me. I hate how Nikos plays me every time, and I hate how my body can’t forget his touch. How it craves for more.

My hand slides down my belly and underneath my PJs.

It’s still early morning, and I’m still in bed, hiding under the duvet.

It’s the first time I’m actually doing this— touching myself .

Well, except for the time at the restaurant when I did it in front of Nikos.

I still can’t believe I did that. But the sexual tension has become unbearable, and I have to release it.

My teeth sink into my bottom lip, my toes curl, and a sigh I try to suppress escapes my mouth.

My eyes close tightly, my heart hammering. Despite the wave of pleasure rushing through me as I climax, I feel guilty. Dirty. Like a sinner. Perhaps it’s because sex was a taboo topic in my house, or maybe it’s because that’s not what society expects from women.

I suppose Nikos has managed to corrupt me… He once said he’s a sin I won’t resist. He was wrong. He’s every sin known to man that I cannot seem to resist. Nor do I want to…

I head to the en-suite bathroom and let the water cool my burning desires, sadly, just on the surface.

Maybe— hopefully —seeing my family will help me get back to myself and remember why I hated him in the first place.

They’re coming for lunch today, the first time since I moved here.

First time since I married Nikos. Papà insisted on visiting us (despite the mutual hatred between my father and husband) to make sure I’m not walking around here with a collar around my neck (and despite me reassuring him a hundred times, I’m not).

After an extremely prolonged beauty routine to ensure I look my best, I slip into a blazer-style mini dress with a deep V-neckline that plunges to the waist and ankle boots from Valentino.

My Papà will pale when he sees me dressed like this, but I’d rather have him complain than provoke Nikos with another one of my dresses that Papà would approve of, but that is like a red flag to a bull for Nikos.

As I walk down the stairs, my hair that’s left loose today bounces up and down with each step. My parents and siblings aren’t there yet, but the closer I get to the dining room, the more delicious aromas reach my nose.

“Good morning, Mrs. Romano,” Cecilia greets me with a polite smile, her hands full of silver trays. “Do you need anything?”

“No, thank you, Cecilia,” I respond warmly. I’ve asked her at least a hundred times to address me by just my name, but she always refuses, saying that the wife of Mr. Romano deserves no less. “Is my husband in his office yet?”

Most of the time in recent days, Nikos has been either in his office working and planning the next move in the ongoing war with the Castros or away, putting the plan into motion and attending business meetings.

“I’m here.” His low voice reaches me from behind and sends chills down my spine.

Suddenly, my body freezes like an ice statue, and I cannot turn and face him. The ice melts and turns to fire when his hot breath brushes my neck while he whispers against my ear.

“Were you thinking of me when you were pleasuring yourself this morning?”

I hardly swallow. How the hell does he know?

My jaw tightens, but I hold my chin high. “Are you stalking me?”

A scoff escaping his mouth causes goosebumps in its wake on my skin. “Were you expecting anything less from me, baby?”

My heart skips a beat at the way he calls me baby . Not by my name or the annoying nickname he gave me the first day he saw me, but baby with a hint of mischief and a touch of desire.

Still, without turning to him, I mutter angrily, “Are you implying you have cameras installed in my bedroom?” It’s easier when I’m not facing him, and my gaze follows the staff, readying everything for lunch.

He tucks my hair away from my neck, leaning closer, his lips brushing my earlobe. “In every corner.”

My body shudders with every heavy inhale and exhale. “How na?ve of me to believe you’d actually have some decency to give me some privacy.”

A trail of slow, warm kisses causes my muscles to tense. “Yes, how na?ve of you, wicked one .” His husky voice blurs against my skin. “So tell me, were you thinking of me?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Romano,” one of the maids interrupts, breaking the invisible tension between Nikos and me. “Lucio Conti and his family have arrived.”

Saved by the bell.

Nikos nods, and the maid scurries away like she’s afraid of staying in his presence for too long.

As we wait for my family in the foyer, my heart sinks a little.

Considering the circumstances of my marriage, the evening might turn eventful, to say the least. Caterina and Papà walk in first, their expressions carved from stone.

They exchange curt nods with Nikos, who greets them with forced pleasantries before Gianna and Valeria join.

My gaze searches for Salvatore until Gianna whispers that he’s not coming.

I could’ve expected that.

Or maybe it’s for the best?

“And where is Salvatore?” Nikos immediately notices the absence of my twin brother as well.

My father’s brow furrows into a forbidding grimace. “He didn’t exactly want to dine with a man who cut and burned his flesh, broke his fingers, and suffocated him to near death with a plastic bag over his head while he was fully restrained.”

An uneasy, unpleasant chill passes through me, and I’m unsure whether it’s caused by the disturbing image of what my brother had to endure, or by the fear of Nikos’s potential reaction to my father’s not-so-subtle provocation.

But this is it. A reminder of what kind of man Nikolaos Romano actually is. A ruthless monster.

“Lucio,” Nikos says, his lips twisting into a mocking grin. “That was before he was my brother-in-law. He’s family now. Why hold a grudge?”

My father’s eyelid twitches, and I know if I don’t do something now, they’re going to kill each other.

“We should eat,” I blurt out, trying to prevent the impending, perhaps inevitable eruption. “Before it gets cold. You’ll love all the food, I’m sure.”

“Agree,” Nikos says lazily.

Side by side with my husband, as if we were an ordinary, loving couple, we lead everyone to the table, pretending the horrendous exchange hasn’t just occurred. As if my family and husband don’t mutually despise each other.

We gather around the table, and despite the delicious aroma of food filling the room, no one appears eager to eat. The conversation is forced and awkward, interrupted by uncomfortable silences only broken by cutlery clinking against the porcelain dishes.

But it’s not until dessert—an absurd selection to choose from—that the tension becomes so thick you can cut it with a knife.

“Thank you for inviting us, Nikolaos,” my oldest stepsister oozes seduction. “I may call you Nikolaos, right? Considering we’re family now.” Valeria leans forward slightly, her breasts on display and her tone as flirtatious as it gets.

The audacity.

“It was Serena’s wish to have her family over for lunch.

She’s the lady of this house now,” Nikos says flatly, his ice-cold tone completely contrasting with Valeria’s suggestive attempts.

His gaze doesn’t rise above his plate, and he cuts into his cake as if it were the most intriguing thing to do. “And it’s Mr. Romano to you.”

Valeria nearly chokes on the sip of the wine she’s just taken, and I hardly suppress a smile. I can’t deny that Nikos’s resistance to my sister’s charm is rather satisfying.

“Oh… I see.” Valeria’s expression sours.

A hint of disappointment flashes on her face, but she doesn’t seem to take the hint.

“Well, Serena is still a very inexperienced woman. She seems a bit out of her element here. Perhaps I could offer her some advice.” She straightens her posture, her enviously big boobs straining against the tight, deep cut of her silk red dress.

She brushes her hair away from her neck, the golden bracelets on her hand jingling irritatingly as she continues to try to seduce my husband.

Nikos’s fingers drum rhythmically on the table. He glances at me briefly, waiting for my reaction, so I redirect my gaze to Valeria.

“I appreciate your concern, sister, but I’ll do just fine without your advice.” I clear my throat to continue.

Valeria raises an eyebrow, a smug smile never leaving her lips. “Are you sure about that? Because, you know, it’s okay to ask your older, more experienced sister for some… tips. I’m sure your husband would appreciate that.”

My lips press together, and my eyes close momentarily to keep my mounting anger in check.

Did my sister really just mean she would know how to satisfy my husband better, because she’s obviously slept around with enough men?

She would jump into his bed the second he showed any sign of interest, no doubt, not minding that I am her sister, and he is my husband.

“Careful, Valeria,” I speak in a surprisingly cold tone. “You seem to forget who you are talking to.”

Valeria’s expression shifts from smugness to confusion and then irritation, but she quickly composes herself and offers me a tight-lipped smile.

“Silly, I’m just talking to my younger sister, whom I care for. I meant no offense.”

The rhythmic drumming stops, and Nikos’s hand tightens into a fist as soon as the word silly leaves my sister’s mouth.

“I’m sure you didn’t,” I say, hoping I can end this ridiculous dispute before Nikos’s patience reaches its limit and before he gets involved.

You are Mrs. Romano now. Own it. His words echo in my mind, and that’s what I do.

I own it. “After all, you wouldn’t be so stupid as to insult the wife of Nikolaos Romano. ”

But my pride crumbles with Valeria’s following remark.

“Darling, you’re just a part of the bargain, nothing more.”

“Enough.” Nikos’s threateningly low hiss seems to stop the world from turning. For a moment, it seems the whole universe is holding its breath, terrified of his chilly gaze fixed on my sister.

“Disrespect my wife once more, and I’ll marry you off to the oldest, filthiest man I can find, and you’ll beg for that marriage as if it’s a blessing.” Nikos’s tone is icy enough to freeze all that it touches, yet dangerous enough to burn everything to ashes. “Is that understood?”

Valeria clears her throat, and suddenly, she seems so tiny. “Understood.”

“I will not let you threaten my daughter!” Papà shrieks.

His chair, screeching against the marble floor as he abruptly stands from the table, makes my skin crawl.

“And I will not let my daughters fight because of a man whose family bonds mean nothing. Because of a fucked-up, unapologetic bastard with no conscience!”

“Papà!” I assert, scared of how things might escalate, but my father doesn’t even acknowledge my intervention.

“Isn’t it enough that you have my daughter? Do you want to ruin her bond with her family now so she has no one left but you to mistreat her?” he erupts.

Nikos looks at my father, his head angles with a dark glint flashing in his eyes, “You think I mistreat her?”

Suddenly, no one dares to speak. The room grows uncomfortably silent.

“You have no idea, Lucio,” he growls with malice. “Your daughter is my little sex slave. She’s on her knees for me every morning, noon, and night.”

It takes me a second to shake off the shame, only for anger to take its place.

It burns so hot beneath my skin that I don’t even think.

I slap Nikos’s cheek with such force that the sound echoes through the room.

It takes me another second before the lethal darkness in his eyes makes me realize what I’ve done.