Lies & Vows

SERENA'S POV

"I'm not just a witch, but a wicked one at that who eats little boys like you for dinner,"

I leaned in, locking eyes with the trembling brat, my grin spreading slowly as I dragged my tongue across my teeth for effect.

Then I picked up my drink, sipped elegantly, and watched him burst into tears, sprinting off in search of his mother.

"You know you'll have one of your own someday, right?"

My father's voice cut through, amused, as he approached my table, wearing a grin that mirrored mine.

Still tall and handsome even at his current age of sixty-five, he still made the ladies hearts shiver wherever he went.

I could positively say he participated significantly in my good looks.

"Thanks, but no thanks," I snorted in response.

He sighed, pausing while the waiter refilled our glasses. A polite nod to the man, then back to me.

This conversation was old news. My stance on motherhood wasn't changing. He knew that.

"One day you'll understand..."

"Don Giovanni," a loud, slurred voice interrupted, "I didn't think you'd actually show."

Santos. My father's longtime associate and a high-ranking member of the cartel. Drunk and far too cheerful for a man on his fifth marriage-to a girl younger than his eldest daughter.

They launched into loud greetings, all handshakes and back-slaps. I tuned them out, ignoring the bride hovering beside us, desperate to wedge herself into the conversation.

I glanced at her, caked makeup, plunging neckline, cunning eyes behind a fake smile. Gold digger. But hey, who was I to judge? I was just the unwilling plus-one, dragged here by my annoying father.

"I see you dragged the recluse out of her cave," Santos turned to me, eyes twinkling with charm. "What's the trick?"

His grin was all mischief-classic ladies' man. Charm and money: the only two tools in his belt.

"We had a bet. I lost," I replied flatly.

"Oh? And what was the wager?"

That came from the bride. Her voice-high and sugary-grated on my nerves.

I ignored her, taking my time as I sipped my cognac, savoring the slow burn.

"A bet on how long your latest marriage would last. That's why I'm here."

My father choked on his drink, simultaneously kicking me under the table.

I'd totally made that up. There was no bet. But the look on the bride's face? Definitely Worth it.

"And now, if you'll excuse me," I said, standing with a flourish, "I need to use the restroom,"

I walked off, basking in the silence I'd left behind and the bride's strained, frozen smile.

As I moved through the ballroom, familiar faces turned toward me-cartel members, old family friends, snakes in suits. I gave curt nods, never slowing. They didn't deserve my time.

I knew the nickname always whispered behind my back. The Cold Bitch.

Good.

Better that than a warm-hearted fool.

I'd seen too much to play nice. Being the first daughter of one of Vegas' most feared cartels meant I'd witnessed more than enough power games, betrayal, all for the sake of money or at a grasp at power.

Loyalty was an illusion. Love, a transaction.

I veered left instead of heading to the restroom, slipping out of the ballroom in search of air.

That's when I slammed into a wall.

"Ouch!" I snapped, stumbling.

Except, it wasn't a wall. Two strong arms caught my waist, holding me steady.

I looked up and forgot to breathe for a. while.

Tall. Sharp-jawed. Eyes like storm clouds. A walking, brooding statue of perfection.

For a moment, I stared. So did he.

Then the warmth in his touch turned cold.

"Watch where you're going, missy," he growled, voice like gravel as he narrowed his eyes, and then walked away without another word.

Rude.

I stood there, stunned.

Who the hell was that? And who pissed in his drink?

"Whatever," I muttered, resuming my mission.

Outside, I took a deep breath, exhaling like a fish starved of air.

"Much better,"

A high-pitched giggle rang out.

"I swear, did you see how hot he is?"

Three women approached the entrance, heels clicking against the marble. My instinct told me to hide and so I ducked behind the rose bushes. I couldn't help the silly grin that found itself to my face as I got comfortable to listen.

"I wish I was born a Giovanni," one of them sighed. Tall, red-haired. Familiar. "Then I'd actually have a chance with him."

Come and try, sweetheart, I thought.

"I need to tell Lilian I saw her man today. God, she's so lucky!"

Lilian. That name clicked. So this redhead was one of her friends.

That makes more sense, the dumb butches club.

"How do you even know she's the one marrying into the Moretti family?" asked the curvy brunette. Her voice was quiet, but sharp.

Finally, someone with a brain, I yawned silently.

"Come on. Who else would they sacrifice?" the redhead scoffed. "It's not like they'd pick that spoiled, cold-hearted bitch, Serena."

I pouted jokingly at their vague description of me.

The third girl nodded like her neck was on autopilot. She was the type to always agree to everything, and never having an opinion of their own.

Useless, I concluded to myself.

The brunette opened her mouth to speak, but I'd heard enough.

Time to make my entrance.

I stepped out slowly, letting my signature cold smile bloom. The brunette noticed me first, I watched her eyes widen, guilt freezing her in place.

She grabbed the redhead's shoulder, hard.

"Ouch! What's your problem, Marie?"

"She... she's here."

"Who?"

The redhead turned and immediately went pale.

I stopped in front of them, eyes locked on hers.

"That would be me," I said smoothly. "The cold bitch."

SERENA'S POV

Huh!

She gasped, taking a step back as if I were about to attack her.

I rolled my eyes and stopped a few meters away, the smile slowly fading from my face. I locked eyes with each of them, one after another.

They looked down, unable to maintain eye contact, shifting uncomfortably as they fiddled with their fingers.

The silence was deafening, leaving them squirming in guilt. I couldn't help but relish every moment of it.

Cowards, I scoffed inwardly.

"We... we... were..." the redhead stammered, managing to glance up at me.

Nice. She wasn't entirely made of cowardly bones after all.

"Nice dress, by the way. Serene?" I asked, lifting my hand as if I might touch the fabric. She tried to take a step back but froze halfway as the realization hit her.

"Yes, I got it at Serene," she responded, her composure slowly returning with the compliment.

I nodded approvingly. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, ladies."

"Yes, Miss Giovanni,"

I turned and walked back toward the ballroom. As I did, I heard one of them let out a long sigh of relief.

"So you let them go because Gina's wearing your dress, hmm?" Antonio's British-accented voice reached me before I saw him.

I didn't need to look at him to know his mocking tone.

"I'm a businesswoman, after all. My father's daughter through and through, anything for the business," I said, my voice carrying a note of smug satisfaction.

I never planned to do anything drastic, I just wanted a bit of fun.

"Ooh, don't compare yourself to that good old man, you devil," Antonio responded, his voice dripping with mock horror.

I grinned in response as we entered the warm, cozy interior, the scent of polished wood mixing with the low hum of quiet conversations.

Antonio is a fine Englishman, my father's wingman, though not much older than me.

But what he lacked in age, he made up for in efficiency.

His mother, a British beauty, and his Latino father-he grew up with her in England before deciding, at sixteen, to join his father in Nevada, one of the Black Diamond members.

Surprisingly, Antonio's was the one friend who stuck around all these years.

"You are not my bodyguard, Antonio," I took a flute of champagne from a waiter.

"But I have to be, because you are menace," he replied, deftly snatching the drink from my hand and downing it in one go before flashing me a satisfied grin.

"If cruelty were a person..." I stopped in my tracks, exasperated, as I watched him signal to another waiter.

"I learned from the best, remember?" he said, raising his cup toward me.

I shrugged, a grin tugging at my lips. Vanity was my undoing, I just couldn't help but enjoy the praise.

He grabbed two champagne glasses from the waiter and offered me one.

I didn't bother reaching for it, already knowing the outcome. Instead, I turned on my heel and headed to my table.

"I see you've learned a great deal," Antonio chuckled, hands stuffed in his pockets.

Monster, he must've hurriedly downed those drinks.

"Go away," I muttered under my breath. The eyes of everyone in the room were on us, their gaze burning.

"And leave this damsel alone?" he raised a brow, chuckling.

"Why don't you go? There are ladies all around who I'm sure crave your attention more than I do," I was currently feeling their gazes burn holes through my teal-green dress.

Antonio always attracted women like flies. A curse and a blessing, I guess, thanks to his late father's charm.

And yet, he was another reason why I wasn't liked among the younger women of my father's cartel.

"But I've got the best right here," He winked as I spotted my father, speaking to someone whose back was turned to us.

They seemed a little too close, my father laughing as he gave the man a friendly pat on the shoulder. He was genuinely enjoying the conversation-an unusual sight, considering how many times he'd feigned interest before.

"Who's that?" I asked Antonio, equally curious.

"I don't know, but we could find out,"

"Sorry, but not interested," I turned into another row, quickly avoiding Antonio's hand reaching out for me.

"...and ooh, there she is, Serena!" I heard the old man's voice, but I kept walking.

"Serena!" My father's voice boomed through the hall.

There was no pretending now. Everyone's eyes were on me, that shameless man. I shook my head in silent grief as I approached him.

"Ooh, Papa, you shouldn't shout too much. Remember what the doctor said about your health?" I smiled brightly, gritting my teeth.

As I walked toward him, the hall slowly returned to its previous hum, though I could feel the lingering curiosity in the air.

Sorry, no drama at my expense today. I thought to myself as I reached my father.

He pulled me in by my shoulder. At 67, he was still taller than my 5'7" frame, maintaining his good physique and looks.

Those were the two things I was grateful for from him, his height and his looks. People often said I resembled my late mother, but I didn't see much of the resemblance.

"Meet my beautiful daughter, Serena, the apple of my eye, and my heart's delight." He said with a flourish.

I rolled my eyes at his theatrics, he should've been the actor, and not my late mother.

Still, his open affection for me, especially since I was his only child, always warmed my heart. Though my stepmother often criticized how spoiled I was, I couldn't deny there might be a grain of truth in her words.

"Meet Raphael, my son and business partner,"

I stared at him, utterly confused. Then I shouted without thinking, "Your son!?"

SERENA'S POV

His statement made me glance closely at the supposed son, and it felt as though fate were having a cruel joke on me, because standing next to my father was none other than the rude, handsome brute I had bumped into earlier.

His well-carved eyebrow arched in mockery, and a knowing smile danced at the edges of his lips. His calm arrogance only fueled my rising anger, but I dug my fingers into my palm, forcing myself to remain composed.

You can't provoke me, son of a bitch. I'm in control of my emotions.

"I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding and..." Antonio, attempting to mask his nervousness, tried to ease the tension. But before he could finish, my father interrupted him.

"Calm down, Serena," my father chuckled, clearly enjoying himself.

Just moments ago, I was determined not to give the gossipy crowd any drama to chew on, yet here I was.

"I meant he's like a son to me. Remember Uncle Romano?" my father asked, his expression deceptively calm, though his eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Yeah," I replied flatly, though the mention of Uncle Romano caught my attention.

How could I forget him? Uncle Romano wasn't just my father's close friend, he was also the one person I thought understood me well, even though I was little then.

I remember how hard I cried at his funeral, if I had ever felt heartbreak, I think that was it.

"Well, this is his son. Raphael Moretti,"

"Ooh, nice!" I nodded slowly, but the word barely conveyed what was going through my mind.

"Nice" didn't even begin to describe the sinfully handsome man standing in front of me. From his sleek, wavy dark hair to his sculpted face, with the slightly broken nose that only added to his rugged charm, every inch of him screamed danger.

I love danger, but even I knew my limits. And right now, that limit was shouting at me to keep my distance from this man.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Moretti. Maybe we could arrange a time to meet and discuss business?"

"I don't think-"

"Of course," my father cut in smoothly. "I'm sure Serena would be happy to have dinner with you this week,"

I shot him a glare, which didn't diminish the wide grin on his face. I muttered something about having an appointment and quickly excused myself.

Antonio hesitated, torn between following me or staying with his boss, but in the end, I guess duty won over friendship. Though I could have used some company at that moment.

I slid into my car and decided to take a quiet drive around Las Vegas to settle my troubled mind.

I tried to pinpoint what was unsettling me. Of course, it all came back to the conversation I'd just had. My mind told me not to overthink it, but I couldn't help it.

This wasn't the first time my father had introduced me to one of his business partners, but it was the first time he had proposed a meeting with one of them without him.

What are you planning now, Mr. Giovanni?

A pair of beautiful black eyes framed by thick, curly lashes flashed through my mind as I drove past the electronic gate of the Giovanni mansion.

"I don't like you already, Raphael Moretti," I murmured under my breath as I opened the front door and headed for my bedroom.

The house was quiet, thankfully. The board-less wall clock read 11:25 p.m.

I was just steps from my room when I heard movement behind me.

Without bothering to check, I knew exactly who it was.

"You're back. How was the party?" Lilian, my half-sister, asked, sounding like she'd just returned from a party herself.

"Not half as bad," I shrugged, reaching for my door handle.

"Did you meet him? Raphael Moretti?" she asked, her tone breathless, almost eager.

I shot her an inquisitive glance, waiting for her to elaborate.

"My friend Gina said he was at the party," she explained, trying to gauge reaction.

"Sorry, but I don't know who you're talking about," I lied coldly, shutting the door in her face.

The soft golden light of my room filled the space as I entered. It was cozy, my sanctuary, everything from the fabric of the furniture to the Persian rug was chosen by me.

I pulled off my clothes, and just as I was about to head for the shower, I heard footsteps approaching my door. I paused and glanced at the door as the footsteps stopped just outside.

I saw Lilian's shadow lingering for a while before she finally walked away.

I stared at the door, a strange unease settling in my stomach, before I made my way to the shower.

God knows I don't have the patience to deal with her games tonight.

But something suddenly clicked in my mind. If Lilian was so interested in Raphael, why wasn't she at the party?

Unless...

A thought struck me, and I turned off the shower, the feeling of dread in my chest growing.

I hurried out of the bathroom, snatched my phone from the bedside table, and quickly dialed the only person on my speed dial.

The phone rang twice before he picked up.

"Why did you restrict Lilian from attending the wedding today?" I asked immediately, my tone sharp.

"Did she tell you?"

"Answer the question, Dad," I insisted, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Ooh, my sweet girl. This promise was made long before you were born," he said, his voice heavy with a sigh and another feeling that I couldn't quite name.

The unease in me deepened, but I pressed on.

"And a Black Diamond never breaks a promise," he added, his voice oddly distant.

"My Serena, Raphael is your betrothed and you are going to marry him."

The bombshell dropped, and for a moment, the world stood still.