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I’m not sure what the outcome will be.
All I know…
Gabriel has me ensnared.
And I’m not sure I’ll make it out alive.
Start reading Ruthless Vows NOW!
SNEAK PEEK
Chapter One:
EVA
I’m fully invested in the book I’m reading—a modern-day fairytale about a woman trapped in a beast’s dungeon—when I hear my youngest sister running down the hall, giggling. Sienna probably getting into trouble as usual. She enjoys using her status as the baby of the family to get whatever she wants from our father since he always indulges her.
I glance up from my book to see Sienna run past the library door, where I’m sitting, with her long hair flowing behind her. The library—a room filled with dark, sturdy bookcases and all the books one could ever ask for—is my favorite room in our house. It’s the only place where I ever truly feel at peace.
Returning to my book, I drown out the world around me. Witches, goblins, and utter fantasy captivate me until I hear footsteps entering the room. I don’t need to look up to know who it is when the person sighs and slumps into a seat next to me. My sister Greta is just a year behind me and the second oldest in our family.
“What do you want?” I ask, keeping my eyes glued to the page in front of me.
Greta huffs. From the corner of my eye, I see her tilt her head back over the edge of the cozy chair she settled into. “I’m bored.”
“You’re always bored,” I remind her, flipping a page.
“Yes, but that’s because father won’t let me outside.”
I glance up and out the window. It’s pouring rain, droplets hitting the glass. “Probably because it’s raining.”
“So what?” Greta asks, pushing her light brown hair over the back of the chair. My hair is a few shades darker, closer to black. In some lighting, Greta’s hair almost looks like a dairy blonde. She always complains about how much she hates her hair and wishes she had my hair color. Honestly, I can’t blame her. I love my dark hair and wouldn’t trade it for anything.
“So what?” I repeat, setting my book down. Knowing Greta, she wants to talk, which means no more reading for me. “Greta, it’s a downpour out there.”
Greta shrugs. “I’m not a helpless flower. I won’t wilt or drown or anything. I just want some fresh air.”
Greta is always the most tomboy out of the four of us. Whereas I like to read, Imelda—the third oldest—likes to make her own clothes, and Sienna just likes to watch TV. Greta loves going outside and experiencing things our father disapproves of. Greta’s favorite hobby, though, is horseback riding. Father is terrified she’ll get hurt, but Greta insists, and at nineteen years old, she’s become seriously good. But there’s no way he’d let her go riding in the rain. Even he has his limits.
Even though Greta and I are over eighteen, we have to remain home until we’re married. It’s just the way our family is. It probably has to do with the fact that our family is part of a long line of Italian mobsters. Mafia ways have always limited women. And our family is no exception. And that includes our father dictating what we can do with our time.
“No,” I say, “You just want to ride Emilia.”
Greta lifts and finger and points it at me. “True. But who cares? Can’t I do what I want?”
“You know that’s not true.”
Greta folds her arms across her chest. “This is so unfair.”
“What’s unfair?” a young voice asks. I look over and see Sienna standing in the doorway. Her hair, as dark as mine, is tousled from running around the house.
“Nothing,” I reply.
“Don’t you have any shows to watch?” Greta asks.
Sienna flops down next to Greta. “There’s nothing good on at the moment.”
“Not even on Netflix?” Greta asks. “There’s always something on!”
