Page 9 of Vow to Corrupt You (Gods of Corruption #1)

Nikos

Serena keeps shouting and fighting, trying to yank out of my grip and run back to save her boyfriend.

Or rather, his manhood. I can’t understand why she wants to save someone who has betrayed her.

Traitors need to be punished. It’s the only way they can learn a lesson.

My future wife is too merciful. We will work on that.

On the other hand, she does have a fierce side that she’s fervently presenting now.

She tries to bite me so I will release her.

Fucking bite. I like it. I have no other choice but to throw her over my shoulder and carry her outside.

She screams and hits my back, as if that could change anything.

“You fucking bastard!” she shouts as I put her back on her feet outside the house. “Don’t you have any mercy at all? He didn’t even do anything. He didn’t touch me! Why would you punish him like that? Why are you so ruthless?”

My head cocks, and I scan her face. Her forehead is narrowed by her angry grimace, her makeup smeared from her tears. Is she this angry because she’s too kind for her own good, or is she upset about her boyfriend losing his cock so now she won’t be able to ride it?

“Any man who even dares to think of fucking you will end up like this,” I warn, and suddenly, she falls silent.

Her eyes grow wide as she stares at me, scrutinizing my face, inch by inch, hoping she’ll find at least an ounce of humanity in me. Too bad there’s none left. Had she known what kind of shit I’ve dealt with, she’d understand. But she’ll never know. She doesn’t have to.

“You’re a monster,” she cries, but the insult does nothing to me. Not anymore.

“I’ve been called worse,” my tone impassive.

She shakes her head with tears still dripping down her cheeks before turning toward the car she arrived in, but halts. Her body starts trembling, and it takes about half a minute before she manages to speak.

“Lorenzo…” Her gaze is stuck on the scene before her. Her dear Lorenzo kneeling, two of my henchmen holding him captive, his hands bound behind his back. She turns back to me, her expression a combination of pure hatred and lethal fear. “What’s going on?”

I stand with my hands at my back like the picture of cold indifference that I am. “He led you here despite knowing you’re mine . He’s as guilty as Claudio.”

“No,” her head shakes. “Lorenzo had no idea about any of this. He’s just a driver, nothing more.”

Lies . It still surprises me that she tries to lie to me, but I am impressed by her determination to protect those close to her heart. What she must understand, though, is that no wrongdoing will go unnoticed. Every move has its price, and the price must always be paid.

“And yet, he still brought you here.” Never pulling my eyes off her, I reach for a gun. My grip tightens on my Beretta 92, and I point it toward him.

“Please, Nikos. He’s innocent. Don’t punish him for my actions,” she pleads, but it’s not enough.

I cock my gun. The sharp, metallic click must be my favorite sound.

“Please,” she urges. “He’s my friend. I will never forgive myself, forgive you , if he dies because of me. And if that’s still not enough, if human life means nothing to you, please do it for my sake. Do it for me, Nikos. I will never forget that.”

I look at her, unmoved by her pleadings.

Lorenzo is one of my soldiers. He knows the rules and the punishment for going against them.

No one defies the family. No one undermines my authority.

Each execution is a clear message to others.

They know they must obey me, or they end up six feet under the ground with a bullet in their heads.

If I were to allow one man to escape without repercussions, my standing within the organization would be called into question.

It would weaken my command and erode the respect of others toward me.

This is why people fear me; I never show mercy.

In my world, there’s no room for mercy, only power and control. Forgiveness is for the weak.

“If you spare him, I’ll make you a deal.” Her words spill out in desperation, as if triggered by my lack of reaction.

“A deal, you say?” She might’ve caught my interest. She might’ve just found her way out of this. Or her way in. “What kind of a deal, my wicked one ?”

She takes a deep breath, gathering her courage. “If you spare Lorenzo’s life, I’ll do whatever you ask. I’ll marry you. I’ll become your wife, your queen. Your wicked one. Whatever you want me to be. Just please, don’t punish him for my mistakes. Punish me instead .”

My lips twitch with satisfaction. “Oh, that’s a given.”

“Does that mean you agree?” she struggles to speak, stuttering on her fear. “Will you release Lorenzo?”

I look at her for a while longer before I nod faintly. “Very well. I accept your deal.”

Her eyes grow wide, as if she didn’t expect it. Typically, I wouldn’t have made a deal like this. In a way, I’m breaking my rules. But she offered me something I so obsessively want. Herself. On my terms.

Yes, I already have her, but not in the way I want. I need her to want to be mine, to surrender herself willingly. And while this isn’t entirely of her own choice yet, it’s a start.

“Lorenzo will live, but remember, you’ve made a promise to me now.

And I always collect what’s owed to me.” I lower the gun and step closer toward her, towering over her.

“I will spare his life, but you will never see him again. He will be exiled from my syndicate, banished from joining any other, and must leave the country. And if he sets foot in Italy ever again, he’s a dead man. Is that clear?”

She nods, her gaze drops to the ground. “It’s better than death here for my mistakes.”

A low, mocking chuckle escapes my lips. I place the cold muzzle of my gun under her chin and tilt her head, eyes forced to mine.

“See, you already make me a better man.” The words ring hollow, a mockery we both understand. I could never be a better man, not even close. “But you,” I murmur. “You’re full of innocence and compassion. Now I see it. You’re my Persephone.”

Her jaw tightens. For a moment, it seems like she’s trying to contain her words behind steel gates of restraint, yet they escape regardless.

“Persephone… whisked away by Hades to the dark depths of the Underworld and coerced into a marriage I never chose. And you, you are my own personal Hades. You are just who you’ve always wanted to be—God of the Dead.

You bring nothing but destruction, darkness, and death wherever you go!

” she spits with such fury that it could ignite the world in flames.

Although she’s raised her voice to me before, this time she speaks with such anger and vengeance.

Considering she has a gun pressed to her throat, it’s pretty impressive.

She’s either foolishly fearless, or she hates me to such a degree that the prospect of death seems more appealing than spending the rest of her life by my side.

“Thank you, wicked one .” The taunting grin on my face causes her brows to rise. “I already told you. You do know how to stroke my ego.”

“You’re so twisted,” she scoffs.

“And you’re too willing to trade your life for others, so what does that say about you?”

She bites her tongue as if she’s thinking of a more fitting retort. “You owned me already. Selling my life twice to you makes no difference to me.”

“Is that so?” I smirk. “Now you’ll do whatever I ask, whenever I please.

You’ll become my wicked one , my little naughty girl, or whatever I desire, remember?

” I move the gun down her jaw and neck, and her lips tremble.

“You’ve given me the right,” I murmur, making it clear that there is no escape.

This vow is like an iron shackle she will never break.

Her fate is now irrevocably tied to mine.

“Your permission to own you completely.”

She stares back at me, her breath shallow.

“From this moment on, you will obey me.” Our glances dart between each other. “Say it.”

“I will obey you,” she breathes out, her gaze dropping.

I gesture to my men, indicating for them to escort Lorenzo to one of my waiting cars.

I seize her hand and lead her to another of my vehicles. “Get in,” I command, and she obeys without hesitation. I walk around the car and slide in beside her. Speaking to my driver in Greek, knowing she can’t understand, I issue my instructions, and we drive off.

The cityscape blurs by until we pull up in front of a building on Via Carini Street.

Remo quickly hops out of the front passenger seat, opens the door for Serena, and escorts her inside the tattoo shop owned by my old associate, Mattia.

The shop was already closed, but Mattia came here at my request.

Inside the shop, various tattoo designs hang on the walls, and Mattia is already preparing the equipment. Mattia himself looks like a work of art. His hands are heavily inked with intricate designs, his brown hair reaching down to his shoulders, tied back in a half-bun as always.

Serena looks around, her glare darting from the setup over to me. I stand by the door, blocking any thought of escape. She inhales deeply, trying to steady her rapid pulse.

“What’s going on?”

My head cocks slightly. “I’m going to mark you permanently,” I state coolly. “Unlike the ring I gave you, this is something you won’t be able to take off.”

“You can’t be serious.” Her pupils dilate to such an extent, her eyes resemble deep pools of darkness. “This is insane.”

“You agreed to do whatever I want,” I remind her with pure satisfaction. “I tried to go easy on you, but you chose to make things hard.”

Her panic gives way to anger as she reluctantly takes a seat in the tattoo chair.

Mattia glances at me as if seeking confirmation, and I give him a single nod.

He begins his work at her neck, and the tattoo machine buzzes through the room.

Serena winces as the needle touches her skin, starting to etch my name onto the skin above her collarbone.

I approach my dear fiancée, who slides off the chair after the work is done. I brush her hair away from her neck as my fingers slowly trail over the fresh ink. Deliberately, I trace the letters of my name inked on her soft, tan skin.

“Now, any man who sees this will know you belong to me.” I raise my gaze to meet hers. It’s blazing with hatred. “They won’t even dare to speak to you.”

Her anger must’ve reached its boiling point because, before I can react, she spits in my face.

The room falls silent. The shock ripples through Mattia and Remo. As if in sync, they both avert their gazes, fearing the eruption of my wrath.

I wipe her saliva from my cheek with the back of my hand, my jaw tight with controlled fury.

My hand tightens around her neck as I pull her closer, without choking her, and press my lips forcefully against hers.

Her body stiffens with fear at first before she tries to push me away, but I only kiss her deeper.

Rough and demanding, my tongue shoving in her mouth, finding hers.

I graze her bottom lip between my teeth as I pull away, causing her to grunt.

“You’re sick,” she seethes, her voice trembling with barely suppressed rage.

“Now you know,” I chuckle softly. “Now you’ll remember you belong to me .”

“I am not your toy,” she snaps back. I dig the way she fights back, that fire in her eyes daring me. Not many have the guts for it.

Her defiance is like a drug—it gets under my skin and makes me crave her more. It’s a twisted play we’re in, but fuck if it doesn’t light a fire in me. Her strength, her refusal to back down, it’s a turn-on in the darkest way possible.

“You’re not a toy, wicked one . You’ve proven that,” I murmur, my gaze lingering on her. “But you’re mine to play with, nonetheless.”