Page 32 of Forgotten Vows

I lead them through the penthouse toward the kitchen, pointing out rooms as we pass—the living room, the library, the media room, the gym—trying to show them that this is a home, not a prison. Thatthey have space here, freedom within these walls. But I can see Adriana taking it all in with that same wary expression, looking for a way out.

In the kitchen, I make pancakes while they sit at the island. Matteo chatters nervously about nothing in particular while Adriana watches me with those green eyes that used to look at me with love, and now just look tired and defeated. I pile pancakes on plates, add chocolate chips like I promised, pour orange juice and coffee, and set it all in front of them like proof that I can take care of them… that I can give them what they need.

Matteo digs in immediately, and I can see some of the tension leaving his small body as he eats. It seems like the normalcy of breakfast makes everything feel slightly less terrifying. But Adriana just picks at her food, pushing it around her plate, and when she looks up at me, I can see the question in her eyes.What happens now?

I don't have an answer.

I thought I had it all figured out—get her out of Gio's house, bring her here, marry her, keep her safe. I thought once she was here, once she understood that I was protecting her, everything would fall into place. That she'd remember what we had, remember who I was, remember that we loved each other once.

But nothing has fallen into place. She's here, but she doesn't want to be. She's my wife, but she doesn't trust me. She's safe, but she feels imprisoned. And I don't know how to fix it.

I watch her with Matteo, the way she touches his hair, the way she smiles at something he says, the way her whole face softens when she looks at him. I watch the love there, the fierce protectiveness, the absolute devotion, and I know I'd give anything to see her look at me with even an ounce of that love again.

I thought becoming a conqueror was enough to win her back, that showing her the lengths I'd go to would make her realize I never stopped loving her.

But that doesn't seem to be the case. And now, I have no strategy for how to keep the woman I've found again.

9

ADRIANA

The silence wakes me the next morning before anything else, and for a moment I lie perfectly still in the unfamiliar bed, my heart already racing before my mind has fully caught up to where I am. The room is more luxurious than what I've slept in for years—Gio made sure I wasn't enjoying the comforts that my name and our family wealth should have entitled me to. And, as much as I hate to admit it, I slept better than I have in a long time.

But now, the wrongness of it all crawls over my skin again, the fear flooding back in.Gio will find us.

My pulse starts to race. He'll find us, and when he does, he'll kill Lachlan slowly, make me watch, make Matteo watch, and then he'll take us back to that estate and everything will be worse than it was before. I can almost see Gio's face when he realizes we're gone, the rage that will consume him, the resources he'll mobilize to track us down. He has connections everywhere, and Chicago isn't far enough. Men like my brother don't let go of what they consider theirs.

I push myself up and look around the room that's supposed to be mine now. After Lachlan kidnapped us and brought us here, I was surprised that he didn't demand I share his bedroom. The fact that he's giving me this much space is a relief.

The bedroom itself is beautiful, even though I can tell an interior designer picked everything out. It's all done in neutral creams and golds, with a gleaming hardwood floor, and the ensuite bathroom is done in silver and marble. It reminds me of my room when I was younger, and I wonder if Lachlan gave them any instructions to make it so. He saw my room on occasion, when we were both brave enough to sneak a few minutes with him inside it.

It's beautiful, but it's still a gilded cage, just like the one I left behind. The only real difference is the man holding the key.

I force myself out of bed, my bare feet silent on the hardwood floor as I make my way to the bathroom. I splash cold water on my face, trying to shock myself into the present moment. Droplets run down my neck and soak into the collar of the T-shirt I slept in, making me gasp at the chill.

You're alive,I tell myself, gripping the edge of the sink hard enough that my knuckles go white.Matteo is alive. You're both here, both safe as of right now, and you need to keep it that way.

I put on a pair of jeans and a loose T-shirt from the closet, feeling uneasy about wearing anything even slightly revealing around men I don't know. I'm not even sure I'm comfortable showing skin around Lachlan. I feel reassured after our not-wedding night that he won't touch me without my consent, but that doesn't mean I didn't see how hungrily he looked at me. I don't want to make that tension worse. I hope that the clothes stocked in the room are something he instructed an assistant to buy. I don't like the idea of Lachlan choosing a wardrobe for me like a doll he's outfitting.

When I emerge from my room, I can hear sounds—the soft clink of dishes from the kitchen and the low murmur of male voices. I follow the sounds toward the kitchen and find Matteo sitting at a massive island, his legs swinging as he eats pancakes that someone has made for him. One of Lachlan's men—I remember his name is Rian—stands nearby, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. He's watching my son with an expression that's partially protective and partially uncomfortable. He looks like he's not quite sure what to do with a nine-year-oldboy but is determined to make sure he's safe and watched out for anyway.

Weirdly, as uncomfortable as I am here, I appreciate that. It does seem like Lachlan and his men are invested in us being kept safe, even if I'm not happy about how they're going about it.

"Mama!" Matteo's face lights up when he sees me, and he scrambles down from the stool and runs to me, throwing his arms around my waist. I hold him close and feel some of the tension in my chest ease slightly, just enough to let me breathe.

"Did you sleep well?" I ask, pulling back to look at him while my hands automatically check him over the way they always do, looking for signs of harm or fear—anything wrong. It became a ritual in my old home, and I can't break it. His eyes are bright though, his smile genuine, and there's a lightness to him that I haven't seen in so long it makes my heart ache.

"Yeah!" The excitement in his voice that catches me off guard. "Rian showed me the TV room, Mama. It's huge, like a real movie theater, and there's a pool on the roof that's heated so you can swim even when it's cold outside. Can we go swimming later? Please?"

A pool on the roof. Of course there is. Lachlan has built himself an empire here, a fortress high above the city where he can have anything he wants, including a pool that defies the weather and the season. I glance at Rian, who's watching us, and I wonder what he sees when he looks at me. A victim, a prize… a problem to be managed?

"Maybe," I say to Matteo. Lachlan said the house was ours to explore, but I'm not sure how far that stretches. "We'll see."

Rian clears his throat, and I force myself to meet his gaze. "Lachlan said you and the boy can go anywhere in the penthouse," he says, like he's reciting instructions he's been given. "There's food in the kitchen, or we can order whatever you want. The pool is fine if you want to use it. Just... don't try to leave without telling someone first."

Don't try to leave.The words hang in the air between us, a threatdisguised as concern. I understand what he's really saying—you're not prisoners, but you're not free either. If you try to run, we'll stop you.It's the same dynamic I lived with at the estate, and the familiarity of it makes something cold settle in my stomach.

"Understood." My voice comes out colder than I intend, sharp enough that Rian's expression shifts slightly. Something that might be sympathy flickers across his face before he schools it back to neutrality.