Chapter 3 - The Binding Vow
The transition was violent in its abruptness. Within forty-eight hours, the city’s underground was boiling with rumors. Preston Hale, the ruthless architect of the Chicago syndicate, was marrying a maid. The five ruling families were insulted. The politicians I owned were nervous. But inside the fortified walls of my Lake Forest estate, the only thing that mattered was the soft laughter echoing from the sunroom.
Oliver was speaking. It started as whispers—single words directed only at Emma. But by the end of the week, he had looked at me and asked for juice. I had nearly wept.
Emma sat across from me in my study, the heavy mahogany desk separating my world of blood from her world of light. She was dressed in simple clothes, completely untouched by the millions of dollars at my disposal.
“You don’t have to go through with the wedding, Preston,” she said quietly. “I did it for Oliver. Not for your money, and certainly not for your protection.”
“In my world, a broken vow is a sign of weakness,” I replied, pouring two glasses of scotch. I pushed one toward her. “The moment you stepped out of that service line, you put a target on your back. My enemies see you as a vulnerability. The Rossi family is already probing our docks, testing my focus. If I don't claim you as my wife, they will take you just to hurt me.”
Emma stared at the amber liquid. “And if you do claim me?”
“Then they will have to go through a small army and my dead body to reach you.” I leaned forward, my eyes locking onto hers. “I won't force you into my bed, Emma. I won't force you to love me. But you will wear my ring, and you will stay by Oliver’s side. Do we have a deal?”
May you like
She looked toward the door, where Oliver’s small footsteps could be heard in the hall. “I'll marry you,” she said, her voice steel. “But I won't be a prisoner in this house. If I’m to be your wife, I’m your equal.”
I smiled. It was a dangerous, genuine smile. “Deal.”
