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Chapter One for Sinner's Vow
Dread drips down my spine in a slow trickle—my stomach clenches. On either side of me, doors line a long, daunting passage. Intentionally, I’m sure.
I’m positive my father revels in intimidating visitors as they shuffle toward his study at the back of the house, the ticking of the grandfather clock taunting them with each step.
The ticking that haunts me now.
For each hand movement accompanied by a tick, I’m another step closer to my doom. Father never calls me to his office for anything good. The last time he called on me, I ended up in the hands of the Bratva.
Raven, you can do this,I remind myself as I place one Jimmy-Choo-clad foot in front of the other.
A half-strangled laugh echoes back to me, and I press my lips together. Even as my fight-or-flight response kicks in, I keep moving forward.
Because, just like all the times before, I know I have no other choice.
You could run.
I shiver and grip the sides of my dress. The memory burns in my mind of what happened the last time I ran, not from my father but from my ex-husband.
I had run home to my father, pleading with him to save me from the beast of a man he’d given me to. It had been a risk, but I didn’t know who else to run to. He’d put me in that situation, and I knew there was no escape unless my father granted it.
That day, my father held me as I cried bitter tears on the shoulder of his navy jacket. My sobs jolted my body, and I didn’t notice him withdraw his phone, dial my husband’s number, and tell my husband to come and collect his wife.
Knock, knock, knock.I’ve reached the dark wooden door that leads into my father’s lair.
“Come in.” My father isn’t a man you ever keep waiting. My fingers sprawl across the door that I push open, and I step into his office. Olbas Oil tickles my senses. The white cloth handkerchief at my father’s elbow is where the strong smell emanates from. My earlier breakfast curdles in my gut.
Three large chandeliers cast light down on the crown of his head. He shuffles paperwork on his mahogany desk. As my gaze travels across the bookcases that soar above my father, I find my calm by looking at a paper dove that Louise had made for him years ago. I have no idea why he kept the present from Louise, but right now, it’s what I’m seeking—a moment of calm before the impending storm. I hope this time I’m strong enough to withstand the force of whatever he unleashes on me.
“Raven—”
I pull my gaze from the bookshelves and look his way. Maintaining eye contact isn’t easy. His blue eyes always appear clouded, as if there’s a madness lurking.
I keep my hands firm at my side, though I want to ball my fingers into fists so I don’t fidget.
He gestures toward the adjacent chair. I descend into the brown leather seat before folding my hands onto my lap, waiting for the blow from his words.
He doesn’t so much as blink as he leans forward and steeples his fingers on the desk. “You’ve won your freedom.”
I release the breath I’ve been holding, and without being able to stop myself, I slump into the chair. My lips drag down, and my vision wavers. It’s over.
Tears spill, and I’m smiling. I’m smiling with a fierce pain in my heart. God, the price I paid for my freedom had been branded into my flesh, literally. My ex-husband used his belt as his form of punishment.
“Thank you,” I find myself saying through quivering lips. I’m crashing from exhaustion. I’m crashing from being relieved from an overwhelming crushing feeling. I’m free.
Free.
“Once you marry Aidan Murphy, you are free to leave this home. You can start over wherever you want.”
I’m staring at the gray-peppered crown of my father’s head, my vision as clear as a cloudless hot summer’s day. His black fountain pen glides with fluid motions across a piece of paper.
“Excuse me?” My voice comes out strangled, pained, heartbroken.
Without flinching, he repeats his words as he continues to write. He pauses when I don’t respond and glances up at me. “I need you to retrieve information from Aidan Murphy. Once you do, you have won your and Louise’s freedom.”
