Deadly Vows**PUBLISHED**

Chapter 1

***WARNING***

Before you read this story: This is a very dark romance. There will be strong sexual content, violence, language, etc. If ANY of these things offend you, you need to stop reading now. This is not a traditional love story, this is very vulgar and disturbing in some areas. I don't want to hear any complaints later on. I warned you. You have been warned.

Elise 

Sixteen; The age of becoming a woman. While normal girls were receiving their licenses and picking out which foundation to wear for the first time or maybe even piercing their belly buttons, my life was being planned out for me. Some girls were lucky enough to be going on dates for the first time, choosing the boys they wanted to watch grow into men. But not me. For me, sixteen was the day my life ended.

"Elise."

I look up from my music as my father's right-hand man stands in the doorway. I always try and avoid him. He's a man of few words that sends a chill up my spine anytime we make eye contact. But something about his presence seems different as he looks at me. I lower my violin to my lap, focusing on him as I wait for him to speak.

"Your father wants to see you."

My heart leaps into my chest as excitement courses over me. My father never wants me for anything. He's a busy man running the organization I was born into. And I am not an important enough presence for him to ever need. If I were a son, he would have been training me to take over from the moment I turned eight. But I am his daughter, thus earning no real importance in his life. My mother was killed when I was four by our enemies, leaving my father with only me as his successor. He's never been kind to me and I know at the back of my mind it's because he wanted a son to continue his legacy. From the moment I was old enough, he kept me busy with any kind of lessons he could think of. He never cared when my fingers would blister from being overworked, nor when I would fall ill. He's never uttered a compliment or indicator that I've pleased him in any way.

Today, however, is different. Today is not only my birthday, but I had the perfect recital last night. Already, offers have begun to flood in for me to join companies and travel. I must have finally given him a reason to be proud. I can't think of any reason he'd want to see me other than to acknowledge my accomplishment and wish me the best on this momentous day.

I quickly place my instrument in its case, practically running to his office. My stomach is in knots as I anticipate his words to me, the anxiety flourishing as I stand in front of the large oak doors. Two men stand silently on either side, standing guard over his life as I approach. I ignore them, knocking lightly on the door.

"Enter."

The men on either side shift, both turning the knob to open the door for me. I quickly murmur my thanks as I step into the room, smoothing out the ends of my dress. My cheeks are beginning to burn from the smile on my lips as I approach my father. He doesn't look up at my entrance, his eyes remaining focused on the screen on his desk. My heart sinks a little as he gestures to the chair across from his desk with his pen, once again not bothering to look up. Out of habit, I place my hands in my lap, my thumbs twiddling anxiously. My father is an older man. His hair has barely begun to gray around the edges and like most of his counterparts, he keeps a clean-shaven face. I'm sure I got my mother's features all the way down to the green eyes I've always admired in pictures of her. Sometimes, when my father yells, I find myself silently thanking my mother for blessing me with her features.

Silence lingers between us as the minutes pass by slowly chipping away at my excitement. He still doesn't speak. He doesn't tell me happy birthday, or that he is proud of my performance, or that he loves me. And when he finally looks up, he isn't smiling. His face is set in its usual frown as he watches me with cold eyes, immediately wiping my own smile from my lips. He continues to watch me, placing his hands on his desk as he speaks.

"As I'm sure even you are aware, relations with the Pasquino family have been all but non-existent. And with the arrival of the Russians in our territory, we can't afford to be estranged. Not in this day and age. It's time to form a union."

My father stands, making his way to the large portrait that sits behind his desk. He continues to look at it as he speaks.

"With the power they're gaining, Lorenzo has decided it's time to marry off his son. He is his only son so Lorenzo has been very picky in deciding who will have the honor. Luca's still a ways off from taking over his old man's business but by then, he'll have plenty of children when the target moves to his back." My excitement has all but evaporated and been replaced with dread as I anticipate the direction of his conversation.

"A few weeks ago, a few of us met to put our names in the ring. And as of last night, Lorenzo was quite impressed with your performance. They have chosen you to be Luca's first bride."

My fingers throb in pain and it takes me a moment to realize I've been digging my nails into the flesh of my palms. My heart thunders in a different way against my chest as my father turns to look at me, waiting for my response. But in all honesty, I can't get enough air in my lungs to form one. My father didn't even tell me what he was planning up to this point. He didn't tell me anyone was watching me specifically for this last night, nor did he prepare me for it. I thought I had a future from last night, but my father shattered those foolish thoughts in a matter of seconds.

Not only did he refrain from telling me about the marriage, but he didn't even give me an opportunity to think about it or come to terms with it. I'm not a fool. Luca is only in his twenties and is widely feared. In our world, Luca is known as the perfect candidate for taking over his father's place one day as the head of the Pasquino family. He is loyal, cruel, and emotionless in his decisions letting logic fuel him. But in the real world, he would be labeled as a psychopath. In our world, when a boy becomes a "made man", he is given the honor of taking his first kill. Luca was made a man at the tender age of ten. The normal age for our boys is at least thirteen.

My father has taken my silence as acceptance, rambling on about how great of an opportunity this is for the family and our organization, but I can't bring myself to listen. I can't hear him over the rush of blood in my ears. My father has never been a loving man. In my sixteen years of life, this is probably the most he's ever spoken to me. But it still doesn't register that he could be doing this to me. Me, his sixteen-year-old daughter who hasn't experienced life yet. He sees me as nothing more than a meal ticket that he's cashing in for the juiciest prize. It all makes sense now why he placed me in so many extracurriculars growing up. It wasn't to keep me busy, it was to prepare me for a marriage to the highest bidder. To make me seem desirable in more ways than one.

I look up at my father, clearing my throat as I attempt to speak.

"When are we to wed?" I ask.

"When you are twenty-one."

I nod, my eyes lowering so that my father doesn't see the tears. He hates it when I cry. It unleashes an anger that I don't fully understand.

"This will be good for all of us. This will take our organization into the future and establish us across the country, further than we ever could have hoped." I almost laugh at his blatant disregard for my feelings. This is beneficial for him and only him. It has nothing to do with me, none of this ever has. Our family is a small one but established across the northeastern region of the country. The Pasquinos control the entire north, and then some. They are always making connections, making themselves more powerful with each passing year. Which is why I don't understand why they chose us for this marriage. We have nothing to provide that they don't already own.

"Is that all you wanted from me?" I ask. I hate the hope that lingers in my tone. I hate that part of me still longs for my father's affection even though he clearly has none for me. And true to his form, he moves back to his desk, looking through papers without looking at me once again.

"Yes. You may go now. Send in Grigori on your way out."

I slowly stand, nodding as I fight back tears. My life is over. Any life that I thought I had ended during that conversation. The hopeful part of me continues to tell myself that I still have five years left to be my own person and enjoy the time in between. But I know it won't matter. Who I become will die the moment we both say "I do."

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This novel has been rewritten and edited and will be available on kindle vella. The entire series will be published to kindle vella. Link is in my bio!