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The Underworld King's Secret Vow Novel Cover

The Underworld King's Secret Vow

After her fiancé, Angelo, abandoned her at the altar for his late brother's widow and wrongfully imprisoned her for three years, she lost everything. But now, she has returned to Chicago at the side of the city's true ruler, Lorenzo Castiglione. When Angelo encounters her at a high-profile gala, he assumes she has hit rock bottom with a nobody. He has no idea she holds the key to Lorenzo's empire, and that the man he is desperate to beg for mercy is her new fiancé.
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Chapter 1

I spent weeks planning my engagement ceremony to Angelo, the new Don of Chicago's Rizzo family. However, at the ceremony, Angelo publicly announced he was marrying Giuliana, his dead brother's widow.

When I rushed forward to confront him, Giuliana clutched her chest and collapsed.

A furious Angelo placed me under house arrest at a remote estate, accusing me of ruining Giuliana's happiness and causing her heart attack.

Three years later, I returned to Chicago as the fiancée of the underworld king, Lorenzo Castiglione, accompanying him to a charity gala.

Angelo arrived with Giuliana, who was draped in luxury. He was there to plead with Lorenzo for control of a lucrative new project.

He saw me being stopped by security outside and glanced at the folder in my hands.

"I heard you shacked up with some low-level nobody just to spite me. Regretting it now?" He added, "Beg, and I might consider letting you in."

I didn't even bother to look at him.

Lorenzo had forgotten a crucial encrypted file at home. I had to get it to him before the gala began.

————————

1

"No invitation, you're not getting in. Scram."

The gala was about to start. A burly security guard shoved me hard, his massive frame casting a shadow over me.

I stumbled back, nearly dropping the file folder clutched in my arms.

The entire hotel was on high alert. A distinguished guest's diamond necklace had gone missing, and tense-looking Castiglione Soldati were everywhere.

"These are urgent documents—"

"Don Castiglione doesn't see just anyone," the guard sneered. "Especially not a social climber like you."

He sniffed derisively, his eyes filled with contempt.

"You don't carry the mark of any family. I heard the Don is about to announce his engagement. God knows what kind of schemes you desperate women are cooking up."

He pushed me toward the door. I lost my balance and crashed straight into a solid chest.

A familiar scent of tobacco and expensive cologne enveloped me.

My head snapped up.

Angelo.

Three years. He was still as tall and imposing, his tailored suit flawless. But his eyes were colder, harder.

A flicker of shock registered in his eyes when he saw me, but it vanished in an instant, replaced by that same old arrogance.

He waved a hand, dismissing the guard.

The guard, so aggressive moments before, now scuttled away with a fawning smile, shooting me one last venomous glare before he vanished.

"Chiara?" His voice was low and dangerous. "What are you doing here?"

I straightened, deliberately putting distance between us. "None of your business."

"Following me?" Angelo descended the steps slowly. "It's been three years. I thought you had more self-respect. The family cast you out. What are you doing back here?"

I watched his lips move, but the words were just noise. My mind was already somewhere else.

The endless torment in that estate had taught me one thing: I didn't need him.

I contacted the family elders and accepted the engagement they had arranged: a marriage to the king of the underworld, Lorenzo Castiglione.

A month later, Angelo came to the estate to "release" me himself.

I never once met his gaze. I just stepped into Lorenzo's waiting car and headed to his estate in New York for our engagement ceremony, leaving Angelo far behind.

Before long, Lorenzo became the undisputed head of the entire North American mafia Commission.

Before I could answer, a sickly sweet voice drifted from behind him.

"Angelo, who's causing trouble?"

Giuliana glided over, wearing a custom silk gown.

She linked her arm intimately with Angelo's.

When she saw me, a flawless, practiced smile spread across her face.

"Chiara? Oh my god, is it really you!" she feigned surprise. "It's been three years. Have you... been well?"

Her gaze lingered on my jeans and sneakers.

"Looks like you've fallen on hard times."

"What's that in your hands?" Her sharp eyes zeroed in on the file folder.

Angelo snatched it from my grasp.

"Give it back!"

He sidestepped me easily and tore open the seal.

"Weapon schematics," he read from the cover, his brow furrowing. Then he scoffed.

"I heard you shacked up with some low-level nobody just to spite me. Looks like it's true."

My heart hammered against my ribs.

"You vanish without a word, and now you've stooped to drafting blueprints for some third-rate chop shop?"

His voice was laced with pity. "Without the family's protection, married to a useless bum. Chiara, have you really fallen this far?"

"What are you talking about?"

I snatched the file back.

He had no idea. A batch of faulty Russian weapons had recently flooded Chicago's black market, causing massive casualties. That was why Lorenzo was so intent on this investigation.

The Commission's headquarters were in New York. I had refused to set foot in Chicago for years, so it was no surprise that no one here recognized me.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue now that I've exposed your pathetic little life?"

Seeing my silence, he mocked me with a sneer.

"There's an important charity gala here tonight. If Don Castiglione finds out some nobody trespassed on his property, you're finished."

A flicker of pity crossed his eyes.

"But for old times' sake, I can get you in. All you have to do is beg. Show me some submission. I might even clear out an office on my turf for your pathetic boyfriend."

Submission? An office?

For me?

For the woman whose fiancé controlled the entire North American underworld?

For the woman who could have anything she wanted?

Who the hell did Angelo think he was?

"Chiara, you're still so stubborn." He shook his head at my expression. "Three years, and you haven't matured at all."

In a fit of rage, I stomped on his foot.

My heel dug deep into his expensive, handmade leather shoe.

"Ah!" Angelo yelped, his hand shooting out to grip my wrist. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You can't just barge in here! This is Castiglione territory!"

"Three years, and you're still the same spoiled brat. For God's sake, grow up!"

"Look at you now! Was being the lady of the Rizzo family really worth all this? Worth throwing a tantrum and running off with a nobody?"

Just as we were about to explode, Giuliana clutched her chest, her breathing becoming shallow and ragged.

"I'm sorry... If I hadn't lost my husband..." she said weakly, "Angelo wouldn't have felt so sorry for me... wouldn't have wanted to give me a title..."

Here we go again. Same old act.

"After you left, the family was in chaos. For a while, Angelo couldn't explain the absence of his fiancée," she went on, her performance seamless. "But now that you're back, you can have it all. I'm just a helpless widow. I'll step aside..."

Seeing her turn pale and sway, Angelo immediately steadied her.

"Giuliana, don't say that." He comforted her gently, then glared at me. "Are you happy now, Chiara?" he demanded, his voice turning cold and cruel.

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