Twisted Vows: A Dark Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Vicious Mafia Kings Book 3) by V.T. Bonds

Author:V.T. Bonds [Bonds, V.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2025-03-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Fiero Capito

Guilt churns in my chest. Even as my woman dives into her work with impressive single-minded focus, I can’t stop replaying the way she looked at me last night before she made a mad dash to the door. The panic on her face was my fault. I backed her into a corner—again and again and again—until she broke.

I don’t want to put her through that kind of shit again, but I can’t guarantee I won’t. I want and need her.

She was right when she said I was the biggest threat to her, but I’ll erase all the other dangers so she can focus solely on me.

I choose a bistro I only spent a few minutes in the last time I staked out the ER and settle into the corner booth with a light meal and fancy coffee. My view through the front windows is limited, but I have clear visuals of the side doors, and every time Mia rushes a new patient to the back, I admire her braided hair.

She’s just as gorgeous in scrubs as she was in her wedding dress. Maybe more so with how artifice-free she is.

When she doesn’t return to the waiting room for a remarkably longer time than normal, worry heightens my senses. I buy a to-go coffee and toss a few extra bills on the table on my way out the door.

Just as I lift my foot to cross the road, she emerges from the break room hall wearing a different color set of scrubs and her hair in a ponytail. In the harsh lighting, she looks pale and withdrawn, but she checks her watch, glances at the reception desk, then calls the next patient.

I pivot, deciding not to cross the road, and instead join a few smokers a couple of stores down. The spot offers a better line of sight for the triage and reception area.

None of the men offer me a light. I lean on the brick wall, pull my lighter from my pocket, and suck down my first lungful of nicotine in several days and wonder how I went without for so long.

My wife returns, answering my question.

I didn’t need cigarettes because I had her. She’s my main addiction now.

She says something to the nurse behind the desk. They exchange nods as the other woman heads toward the break room. Mia scans the waiting room before plopping down in the chair and checking her watch.

I pull my phone out of my pocket. As the top of the hour rolls over, my wife picks up the phone and speaks. She didn’t dial out, which means she answered a call. A soft smile ghosts across her lips before she checks her surroundings again and ducks her head so the counter hides her face.

I grit my teeth as jealousy and suspicion roar through me. She’s never smiled at me like that, but I yearn to own all her happy moments.

The phone calls lasts for only a few minutes, but each passing second increases my doubt and fury.

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