Risky Vows Of Love Unpredicted

Chapter 1 My name is Alex Smith—or at least it was. Now, it’s Alex Greco. I still stumble over the name, as though it doesn’t quite belong to me yet, like a coat that doesn’t fit. I scanned the rich sitting room, its gilded frames and marble fixtures suffocating rather than impressing me. The people in it were even worse—powerful faces, dangerous smiles. They weren’t my world. No, they were the world I’d been shoved into, one calculated move in a game I never wanted to play. I didn’t choose this life. My father did. “I've got big plans for you, Alex,” he’d said that day, his tone falsely warm. Liam Smith didn’t have big plans for anyone but himself. That much I’d learned very early. It wasn’t that I hated him—not exactly. But loving him? That was entirely different and complicated. He was a hard man, terrifying to everyone who knew him. A child of the streets, who clawed his way to the top and built an empire that could make the mafia flinch. And now here I was, sipping air with the Greco family, his newest alliance. Not champagne, though. Never that. I don’t touch alcohol anymore, not after my eighteenth birthday. That night taught me a very hard lesson—one that water and juice helped me avoid reliving. Not that I had either in hand. Waiters didn’t bother coming near me, and I didn’t bother asking. Nikolai, my so called husband stood across the room, deep in conversation with a cluster of men. Business, I supposed. Or maybe murder. With him, it was hard to tell the difference. He hadn’t looked my way once tonight. He never did. And honestly? That suited me just fine. Nikolai and I were opposites in every way. Just like chalk and cheese, as the saying goes. He was sharp edges and cold ambition. I was... well, me. Standing in this sea of strangers, I felt every bit as out of place as I knew I looked. Arms folded, I shifted uncomfortably. The dress Nikolai picked for me clung to me in all the wrong ways, the halter neckline biting into my skin. And the heels? They were torture devices disguised as footwear. This marriage wasn’t about love or even convenience. It was a transaction, a truce between two empires: my father’s fast spreading crime syndicate and the Greco's infamous mafia family. I’d been a pawn in their plans. My father never sugarcoated his world for me. I knew exactly who he was and what he did. He wasn’t a good man, but he’d always let me think I had a choice. That illusion shattered the day he sealed my fate with them. Our wedding night was a disaster. Nikolai refused to touch me. Not that I wanted him to, but it stung—his disdain. Was it my looks? The fact that I didn’t fit the mold of his other women? Or was it because I’d refused the humiliating “virginity test” his father demanded? My father, for all his faults, stood firm on that. “Trust or nothing,” he told Lucas Greco. In the end, the test didn’t happen, but the marriage did. On our wedding night, Nikolai staged the pretence. He cut his palm, smeared blood on the sheets, and presented them the next morning like some silly trophy. To the world, we were husband and wife. To me, we were strangers with a shared prison sentence. Three months later, not much had changed. Nikolai avoided me when he could and belittled me when he couldn’t. And these gatherings? They were just another reminder of how little I belonged with them. The women here were shadows of themselves, their eyes downcast, their movements timid. I didn’t have that fear. Maybe that’s why I stood out. “You’re all alone again,” came a voice behind me. Deep, steady, familiar. I turned, and there he was—my father. His suit was immaculate, his hands tucked casually into his pockets, but his presence was anything but casual. “Dad.” Relief washed over me as I stepped into his embrace. I wasn’t the hugging type, but tonight, I needed it. He smelled like leather and faintly of cigars, a scent as unshakable as his personality. “What are you doing here?” I asked, my smile genuine for the first time that night. His eyes scanned the room, calculating as always. “Checking on my girl,” he said simply, his voice softening in a way it rarely did. For all his faults, Liam Smith was the only person in this room who truly cared about me. My mother had been gone for as long as I could remember—a drive-by shooting that killed her and left me with a bullet wound in my leg. I was too young to remember the pain, but the scar was permanent. Just like the vengeance my father unleashed after. I never asked for details. I didn’t need to. “You look uncomfortable,” he said, eyeing my dress with distaste. “Why wear it?” “Nikolai’s choice,” I replied, keeping my voice neutral. “You once told me to choose my battles wisely. This isn’t one of them.” He grunted, not approving but not arguing either. That was Liam—a man who gave advice, not comfort. Still, his presence here was enough to anchor me, at least for tonight. “What are you doing here?” I asked my dad. Seeing his face felt like a breath of fresh air in the tight atmosphere of the party. I’d been standing in the same corner for almost two hours, my feet screaming in the ridiculous heels Nikolai had insisted I wear. The dress wasn’t much better—a neck-choking contraption that dragged to the floor like a prison shroud. I hated it. Years ago, Dad had told me to choose my battles wisely, advice I’d clung to in this sham of a marriage. Fighting Nikolai over clothes wasn’t worth the energy. If I could save my resistance for something bigger—freedom, maybe, or at least some freedom—then I’d take the small losses. “Business,” Dad replied simply, his tone as unreadable as ever. “Of course,” I said, the bitterness slipping out before I could stop it. “It’s always business.” He gave me a look, one that saw through the thin exterior of my calm expression. “You’re upset.” “I’m not,” I lied smoothly. I’d learned to do that here, but it never worked on him. He sighed, the kind of sigh that carried weight, then glanced over my shoulder. “Excuse me for a moment—” “Dad, don’t,” I cut in sharply, catching the indication of tension in his posture before things escalated.