Captive vow, p.1
Captive Vow, page 1
Also by Willow Fox
Aigle Tactique
Révélation: Jaxson
Furtif: Mason
Dissimuler: Lincoln
Clandestine: Jayden
Bossy Single Dad
Billionaire Grump
Mountain Grump
Bachelor Grump
Bossy Single Dad Box Set
Bratva Brothers
Brutal Boss
Wicked Boss
Possessive Boss
Obsessive Boss
Dangerous Boss
Bratva Brothers Box Set
Casamentos Mafiosos
Voto Secreto
Voto Cativo
Voto Selvagem
Voto Relutante
Voto Implacável
eagle tactical
Expose: Jaxson
Expose Jaxson
Stealth: Mason
Conceal: Lincoln
Covert: Jayden
Truce: Declan
Eagle Tactical Box Set
Eagle Tactical Serie
Svelato: Jaxson
Enthüllt: Jaxson
Verheimlicht: Mason
Invisibile: Mason
Versteckt: Lincoln
Nascosto: Lincoln
Verborgen: Jayden
Infiltrato: Jayden
Fratelli Bratva
Boss Brutale
Boss Diabolico
Boss Possessivo
Boss Ossessivo
Boss Pericoloso
Frères Bratva
Boss Brutal
Boss Vicieux
Boss Possessif
Boss Obsessif
Boss Dangereux
Frères Bratva: Toute la série
Gebrüder Bratva
Brutaler Boss
Böser Boss
Besitzergreifender Boss
Zwanghafter Boss
Gefährlicher Boss
Gebrüder Bratva: die komplette Serie
Ice Dragons Hockey Romance
Faking it with the Billionaire
Daring the Hockey Player
Arresting the Hockey Player
Mafia-Ehen
Geheimes Gelübde
Gefangenschafts Gelubde
Wildes Gelubde
Widerwilliges Gelubde
Rücksichtsloses Gelübde
Mafia Ehen: die komplette Serie
Mafia Marriages
Secret Vow
Captive Vow
Savage Vow
Unwilling Vow
Ruthless Vow
Mafia Marriages Box Set
mariages mafieux
Vœu Secret
Vœu Captif
Voeu Captif
Vœu Sauvage
Vœu Non Consenti
Vœu Impitoyable
Mariages Mafieux: Toute la série
matrimoni di mafia
Voto Segreto
Voto Prigioniero
Voto Selvaggio
Voto Non Voluto
Voto Spietato
Matrimonios de la Mafia
Voto Silencioso
Voto Cautivo
Voto Salvaje
Voto Involuntario
Voto Despiadado
Père, célibataire et autoritaire
Le Milliardaire Grincheux
Grincheux des Montagnes
Le Célibataire Grincheux
Ruppige Single Papas
Berg Muffel
Bachelor Muffel
Milliardär Muffel
Táctica Águila
Expuesto: Jaxson
Sigilo: Mason
Oculto: Lincoln
Encubierto: Jayden
CAPTIVE VOW
MAFIA MARRIAGES BOOK TWO
WILLOW FOX
Captive Vow
Mafia Marriages Book Two
Willow Fox
Published by Slow Burn Publishing
Cover design by MiblArt
V2
© 2021
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
CONTENTS
About this Book
Chapter 1
Paige
Chapter 2
Paige
Chapter 3
Moreno
Chapter 4
Paige
Chapter 5
Moreno
Chapter 6
Paige
Chapter 7
Moreno
Chapter 8
Paige
Chapter 9
Paige
Chapter 10
Moreno
Chapter 11
Paige
Chapter 12
Moreno
Chapter 13
Paige
Chapter 14
Moreno
Chapter 15
Paige
Chapter 16
Moreno
Chapter 17
Paige
Chapter 18
Moreno
Chapter 19
Paige
Chapter 20
Moreno
Chapter 21
Paige
Chapter 22
Moreno
Chapter 23
Paige
Chapter 24
Moreno
Chapter 25
Paige
Chapter 26
Moreno
Chapter 27
Paige
Chapter 28
Moreno
Chapter 29
Paige
Chapter 30
Moreno
Chapter 31
Paige
Chapter 32
Moreno
Chapter 33
Paige
Chapter 34
Moreno
Chapter 35
Paige
Chapter 36
Moreno
Chapter 37
Paige
Chapter 38
Moreno
Chapter 39
Paige
Chapter 40
Moreno
Chapter 41
Paige
Chapter 42
Moreno
Chapter 43
Paige
Epilogue
Moreno
Giveaways, Free Books, and More Goodies
About the Author
Also by Willow Fox
ABOUT THIS BOOK
Captive Vow
(Mafia Marriages Book Two)
Grumpy single dad seeks Nanny...
Her father tells me she’s mute. Except I catch her humming a lullaby.
He’s a liar. Or she has everyone deceived.
What possibly could a four-year-old be hiding?
I really should have done a background check on him. Imagine my surprise when I discover my grumpy boss works for the mafia.
I want to leave but he won’t let me. I’m his captive, forced to follow his rules and do as he demands.
This slow burn mafia romance is the second book in the Mafia Marriages series. Captive Vow can be read as a standalone and features a happily ever after. It also includes cameo appearances from the Eagle Tactical series.
1
PAIGE
I ought to walk out before I end up murdered.
Everything feels off.
The smell of stale cigarette smoke lingers in the air and burns my nostrils. The floral wallpaper is a dirty old yellow.
The hairs on my arm stand on end.
I should turn around.
Run.
But I need a job and the wooden sign hanging outside, squeaking in the wind with the words Nanny Agency, Inc., caught my interest.
“Hello?” I call down an empty hallway.
I step farther into the single-story brick building. The place looks new from the outside, but the appearance inside tells another story.
A rough Italian accent, male, catches me off guard as he comes up from a back stairwell.
Abruptly, he shuts the door behind himself.
“Can I help you?” he asks. He glances at me thoroughly, over, up, and down.
Is he ogling me?
Gross!
He’s not the least bit attractive, with his bushy eyebrows and a thick, raised red scar across his cheek and arms. It looks like Hook left his mark after he fought with a crocodile.
While I realize that I’m not dressed in a suit or blazer, I have on a nice pair of jeans and a blouse. I wasn’t planning on stopping in for an interview, just an application.
“I saw your sign when I was driving by,” I say.
He steps closer and reaches for the speaker, turning the radio louder, though I don’t have the slightest idea as to why.
There are only the two of us in the building.
It’s a rather rude gesture, and I have half a mind to run before I end up chopped up in his cellar, but I also need a job. And I’m good with kids.
Aside from Mr. Ogling Scar Face, there’s no one else who I notice in the office.
I start again, deciding maybe I need to be more direct in my approach. “I’m Paige Stone. I have previous experience as a preschool director and owner of a preschool facility in Spring Valley. I’d like to find out if you have any nanny openings available.”
“We have an opening that we haven’t been able to fill yet,” the gentleman says. He glances me up and down again.
Is it something about my appearance? I glance down to make sure there isn’t a stain on my shirt or a hole in my jeans that I missed.
“You’re a little older than our usual girls who come in.”
“I don’t know what kind of nanny operation you’re running here, but I have plenty of experience, and as far as I’m concerned, if you’re discriminating based on age or body type, I’ll contact an attorney.”
His brow tightens.
“That isn’t necessary,” he seethes. His hands clench into fists.
My threat seems to have intimidated him.
Good!
I reach for a business card on the nearby desk, prepared to file a complaint if he doesn’t at least give me an application to fill out.
“Are you Vance DeLuca?” I ask, reading the name on the card.
“I am,” he says.
There’s no hint of a smile, and the whole place wreaks of trouble, but I’m not intending to nanny for him or his family. He’s just the middleman, the broker, and I need a job.
2
PAIGE
The doorbell jingles as I step foot inside the small café. I’m early for my job interview and don’t want to show up before my appointment.
Thankfully, I only had to wait a day for the interview.
Sleeping in my car sucks.
I grab an overpriced coffee and then a seat at a table, keeping an eye on the time.
My focus is primarily on my phone. The coffee shop at two in the afternoon is pretty quiet, except for the hiss and whirl of the machines as the barista prepares a coffee for another customer.
I glance up briefly from my phone and offer a weak smile.
I grew up in Breckenridge, but it feels like a lifetime ago. The last time I was here, I helped pack up Mom’s house and had her move in with me. Now that she’s gone, coming home just feels right.
Maybe it’s because the town holds fond memories.
Who says you can’t go home again?
At least, I want to believe that to be the case.
Another glance at my phone and the position that the nanny agency suggested might be a good fit.
Businessman seeks full-time nanny to special needs girl. Includes room & board along with a modest stipend.
The gentleman at the counter grabs his drink and pauses, giving me the once over. “Paige?”
He’s tall, handsome, and has a plethora of ink that covers his skin. He’s easy on the eyes, and my gaze falls quickly to the wedding band that he’s wearing.
Damn.
“Yes?” I don’t recognize him.
But he knows me.
“Wow, you don’t remember me. Do you?” he asks.
I smile sheepishly and tuck an errant strand of hair behind my ear. I doubt he was covered in ink the last time I saw him.
His grin is wide and bright. He looks genuinely happy.
That’s how I want to feel. I hope living here, moving here, can bring me that same type of joy.
“Jaxson Monroe,” he says and holds out his hand.
I smile and nod, pretending to recognize him. “Right.”
I could never be an actress. In all honesty, I have no clue who he is, but he’s drop-dead gorgeous. Like he just walked right off the cover of a romance book.
“You don’t remember me,” he says.
Well, he knows who I am. My name isn’t that common. “I guess I haven’t changed that much,” I say with a laugh. “I’m betting you didn’t have those tattoos the last time we saw each other.”
Jaxson smiles warmly and laughs. He shakes his head. “I’d say not. High school was the last time we saw each other, but I’d say we went to junior high and elementary school together. I won’t take any offense. Promise.” He gives a scout’s honor gesture.
He doesn’t quite look like a boy scout, but I smile politely. I’ve plastered a grin on my face to not seem so out of sorts.
He doesn’t grasp I’m uncomfortable, or maybe he’s just one of those super friendly and outgoing guys who doesn’t realize that other people aren’t great at making conversation.
He’s lucky.
I’m not.
“Are you visiting family?” Jaxson asks.
My lips tighten for a brief second. “No. I decided to move back here for a job.” I glance at my watch. “I have an interview to get to.”
I stand and take the remnants of my coffee with me, dropping it into the trash.
“Good luck.”
“Thank you. It was nice seeing you again, Jaxson,” I say over my shoulder.
The café shop was bright, sunny, and felt friendly, probably because I ran into Jaxson.
I pull up outside the address for my interview. It’s a dive bar.
“Seriously?”
What kind of businessman interviews for a nanny at a bar? I need the job, and being pretentious isn’t going to help me land the gig.
I’m only about five minutes early. I turn my phone on silent, grab my resume from the front seat and step out of my sedan.
I slam the car door and head inside wearing an A-line skirt, blouse, a short-sleeved sweater, and high heels.
Dress for the job you want.
What does a nanny wear, exactly?
I’m no Mary Poppins. And let’s face it, I need the job more than she ever did.
If I don’t get the job, I’ll be sleeping in my car indefinitely.
Every cent was spent on hospital bills, the funeral, and taking care of my mother before her passing.
The door is heavy and squeaks on its hinges as I yank it open.
It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dimness, and I glance around, looking for a gentleman in a business suit.
There aren’t too many people in the bar. Two men are playing pool in leather jackets. They probably belong in a motorcycle club.
The bartender nods toward the back of the bar.
There’s a booth in the corner. The table has a placard marked reserved.
I saunter up to the gentleman seated in the booth. The hairs on my arms stand on end. Something feels not quite right, but I push all my fears and anxiety aside.
It’s probably me being nervous.
“Hi, I’m Paige Stone,” I say and hold out my hand to introduce myself.
“Moreno Ricci,” he introduces. “Please, have a seat.”
The booth is curved, and I do my best to sit as far from him as possible. This isn’t a date. I don’t want it to feel cozy.
Why didn’t he pick a table or a booth where we were seated across from one another? Hell, why didn’t he choose another place to meet?
He’s dressed sharply, in a suit, his white shirt crisp, his tie without a single flaw. “Tell me about yourself, Paige.”
His question almost comes off as sounding a little too personal, like a date. But I know I’m reading into it. This is a job interview.
He will be my boss if I’m hired.
“Yes, of course.” I slide over a copy of my resume. I also keep a second copy for myself to glance down at every so often. It helps me focus on what I want to say and keeps me from leaving out something important.
“I owned and operated a preschool in Spring Valley until late last fall when a buyer offered to purchase the establishment.”
I don’t want to elaborate on why I sold the business.
Not unless he asks.
His eyes tighten and he gives a weak nod. “Owning a preschool isn’t the same as working with children.”
“I have a degree in early education, and I spent a decade teaching preschool-aged children and writing a curriculum that other teachers used for my private preschool. You mentioned in your listing that your daughter is special needs. I have lots of experience working with a variety of children with unique requirements.”
