Page 4 of Vow to Corrupt You (Gods of Corruption #1)

Serena

I storm inside the bathroom, decorated in a retro style like the rest of our house.

Panting, I rest against a wooden vanity with a pristine white countertop.

I can’t steady my ragged breath, and my knees feel so weak.

I splash my face with cold water, but it does nothing to subside the adrenaline rushing through my veins.

“What have I done?” I mumble under my breath as water droplets fall into the sink I’m leaning over. “Have I just signed my soul off to the devil?”

“I’m not the devil, but you flatter me.”

A husky voice resonates behind me, and my heart lurches.

Instantly, I tilt my head upward, meeting his intense gaze in the golden-framed mirror above the vanity.

A mere glimpse of him makes each vertebra of my spine quiver, as if touched by the cold hand of death itself.

His mere presence evokes my darkest fears, leaving me weak-kneed and terrified.

What is he doing here anyway?

I start panicking because I am alone with the infamous Nikos Romano, the God of the Dead himself, in a tiny bathroom. There’s not enough space for both of us. At least, not enough for me to feel safe. I don’t. Can anyone actually feel safe when that man is in the room?

I turn to him, supporting myself against the countertop. I fear if I don’t, I might fall as I tremble with him this close.

He, in contrast, rests against the door frame with a cocky smile, exuding amusement and authority.

“Mr. Romano,” I address him, clearing my throat. My heart flutters like the frantic wings of a hummingbird, its rapid beats drowning out the rhythm of my ragged breath.

Right. Breathe .

I try to focus on breathing.

In and out.

In and out.

His presence is anything but calming to a person. “What are you doing here?”

He pushes away from the frame, the amused grin never leaving his face.

Deliberately, he closes the door behind him, and the click of the lock gives me goosebumps.

He steps closer, closing the distance between us.

Now, he looms over me, his proximity quickening my heartbeat even more.

The spicy scent of wood and musk hits my nose, and it’s strangely pleasant.

He’s captivating but oh so intimidating.

No, he’s not!

I hate that man—if he can even be referred to as one. This bastard is not human. He is a monster.

“I’ve come to check on you.” His dark eyes flicker between mine, his head cocking slightly. “You are my fiancée now, and it’s my duty to make sure you’re well.”

Please. If you want me to feel better, don’t force me to marry you, you twisted psycho.

“No. I’m your fiancée merely on paper.” Before I can control my reaction, a scoff escapes me.

But the exact second the words leave my big mouth, I realize what—and most importantly—to whom I just said.

This man is not just anyone. He’s a dangerous mafia boss who owns the town—hell, the country.

He could kill me in a heartbeat if he wanted to, and no one would say anything.

“No.” He shakes his head, his grin widening, showing off his perfect teeth. His smile could make any woman swoon— including myself —but I won’t fall for it. It takes more than just a pretty face to like someone. And he… he’s unlikable in every meaning of this word.

My heart skips a beat as his hand comes to rest on the countertop behind me, effectively trapping me between his arms and the hard surface. One of his fingers gently brushes my hand.

Wait. I don’t feel his skin. Is he wearing gloves?

I glance down at his hand.

Yes, he does. Black leather gloves.

My brows twitch slightly. Why is he wearing them?

“Not just on paper.” His low tone snaps me out of my thoughts.

“You are mine now, Serena .” He speaks my name like he owns me, like everything has to be his way or no way.

God, how I hate it! I might’ve signed the pact selling myself to the devil, but he shall never own me.

Not in the real meaning, anyway. I might be his trophy wife, his prize or prey, whatever rattles his twisted ego, but I will never be his. Not in my heart.

“Why me?” My heart races with apprehension, but my blood boils with frustration and hatred. “Why did you choose me?”

“Serena,” he repeats, this time as if savoring the sound. “You seem like such a good girl… one I want to corrupt.”

I can’t help the scoff slipping my mouth. “Corrupt? Who do you think you are?”

“I’m the sin you can’t resist,” he drawls darkly, gripping my chin with his fingers and tilting my head back.

He leans forward so that our lips are parted by the mere mesh of our breaths.

I feel trapped. Intimidated. Scared, even.

I despise this man. I loathe everything about him.

He’s captured my brother and threatened to kill him.

He forces me to marry him despite my will.

He’s an unforgiving gangster whose ruthless reputation precedes him.

He may be insanely attractive, but he’s not the kind of man I imagined I would be spending my life with.

I’ve always dreamed of having a sweet relationship.

A cute boyfriend who would love and care for me.

Who would watch movies with me snuggled under a blanket.

Doesn’t every girl dream of her Prince Charming?

Instead, I got the God of Corruption who takes lives as if it were a casual thing to do.

A deviant who treats women as if they were his toys born to satisfy his wicked needs.

“I’m the sin you can’t resist.” His words echo in my ears.

I can and I will… even if it kills me.

He slowly turns my head to the side with his fingers and leans down to my exposed neck. His warm breath, brushing my sensitive skin, brings me back from my racing thoughts.

“What are you doing?” I barely manage to mutter.

I feel his lips on my skin, planting a wet kiss that ignites a rush of electric sensations that ripple through every nerve ending. I’ve never felt anything like this before.

Is it my lack of experience? Is it him? His wicked aura seeping deep into the very marrow of my bones?

I want to push him away, but I can’t move.

I’m frozen in place as if every part of my body refuses to listen.

His lips trail down the curve of my neck, causing my heart to race like a stallion set free.

A gasp escapes my mouth when I feel a pleasant pain.

He’s sucking on my skin, a throaty growl fills my ears.

“What are you doing?” I repeat, and my voice is nothing more than the exhale of a whisper.

“Marking my territory,” he murmurs in the most possessive of tones I’ve ever heard.

He slowly leans back, letting go of my chin and brushing my hair aside with his other hand. Instinctively, I turn to see my reflection in the mirror. I gasp, seeing a hickey he left on my skin.

“Why did you do that?” I stare at the mark, frustration boiling in my veins.

“I told you,” he emits a deep, guttural sound, and I turn to meet his piercing gaze. “To mark my territory. From now on, you’re mine, wicked one .”

I scoff at the nickname. “I am not wicked. Never have been. Never will be. And I am not yours,” I object firmly. “I vow to never be yours. This is solely to save my brother’s life, nothing more.”

My words seem to amuse him because the corners of his face twitch with a mischievous challenge.

Once more, he leans closer. He angles his head so that he looks at me from the side, his nose brushing my cheek.

His hand slides around to my back, raking its way up until it stops on my bare skin just above the zip of my dress.

His touch, even through the leather fabric, steals the breath from my lungs.

“Funny, because the way I see it…” his taunting growl triggers a wave of adrenaline, making every nerve in me tense to its limit.

“I’ll have you any way I want. At my mercy.

Vulnerable and exposed. I’ll strip away every last bit of your innocence.

I vow to corrupt you. To own you. Possess you. Make you mine.”

He captures my earlobe with his mouth and sucks on it, as if his words alone weren’t enough to send a flutter of dread through me. I barely swallow a sigh that desperately wants to escape my mouth.

“You won’t change me. I will never be who you want me to be.” I try to focus on breathing. In. Out. I want to push him away — I really do —but my body is shaking, and it feels like not only have I lost control of this situation, but I’ve lost every ounce of control of my own body.

Unlike him. He’s so composed. He’s enjoying it.

I know he does. I can feel his lips twitching in a smirk against my earlobe he’s continuing to tease with his tongue.

He slowly pulls away, just enough to gaze into my eyes.

But he remains close, way too close. His presence is too intimidating.

It sends my pulse racing. I need to get out of here, free myself from this invisible cage that his being here creates and holds me hostage in.

“Everyone has a dark side.” He drawls lazily, his voice rich and slow, almost like a purring cat. “You’re no different, wicked one .”

I want to protest, but once again, I am unable to do anything. I cannot move. He’s too close.

“I would almost forget,” he says nonchalantly, taking a step back. I can finally breathe, as if someone had loosened the chains around my neck. He reaches into the pocket of his well-fitted black pants and pulls something out.

My gaze drops to the black velvet box he holds before my eyes. “What is it?”

He slowly opens the box, and I see a striking diamond ring set in white gold.

The centerpiece is an enormous, mesmerizing black diamond encircled with smaller, sparkling diamonds that create a halo around the central stone.

It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.

The contrast between the darkness of the black diamond and the shimmering smaller diamonds surrounding it like radiant stars makes it truly captivating. Elegant. Timeless.

“I want you to wear it.” He commands. “You are officially my fiancée now.”

He takes the ring out and puts the velvety box back into his pocket.

He gently grabs my hand—though I don’t feel his skin, only the leather fabric—and his gaze drops to my hand.

I watch him slowly slide the ring on my ring finger.

The diamonds glimmer beautifully with every quiver of my hand, causing the diamonds to almost dance with sparkles of light.

“Is this your way of proposing to me?” I mock, snatching my hand out of his.

My gaze rises to lock with his. “In a bathroom after I was forced to sign the papers stating I’m nothing more than your new possession?

How romantic. You won’t drop to your knee, I suppose?

Declare your undying love for your new bride? ”

Nikos stares at me with amusement. His brow slightly twitches. “Perhaps, one day, you might bring me to my knees for another reason besides feasting on that pussy that’s now mine.”

I swallow. Hard . A surge of heat courses through me, my heart hammering in my chest so fiercely its frantic rhythm rings in my ears. No one has ever talked like this to me before. So dirty. So absolutely filthy.

“But first,” he places his hand on my neck. “You will be on your knees for me.”

My throat constricts, and a tangled mass of nerves twists in the pit of my stomach as I picture his words.

Vividly. I’ve never… been intimate with a man before.

Now, it seems I’ll serve as a sex slave to a man who’s obviously had more whores than I can count, doing all sorts of things at his command that I’m scared to imagine.

He moves back and sets his intense, piercing gaze on mine. A smirk of amusement and satisfaction tugs his lips.

“Next time I see you, you will be saying your vows to me at the altar.”

His steady tone rings in my ears, making my heart pound more forcefully again.

He casually turns on his heel and walks out of the bathroom.

The moment he disappears from my sight, I turn around and support myself on the countertop, panting, gasping for air, as if I was finally given oxygen after being almost choked to death.