Brutal Vows Novels & Stories

He looked back at her. “You want us to make a vow?” Ayaan queried. She nodded and they both looked at the sky. “The stars, moon, and the natural flowers are a witness that today, I promise to stick with you till the end. I will be yours till not even death can separate us,” she vowed. “The stars, moon, and natural flowers are a witness that today, I promise to love you, care for you, and stick with you beyond forever. Nothing, not even death can separate us,” he vowed too. “Aameen!”

His voice rumbled with a dangerous edge, sending shivers down the spines of anyone within earshot. Kurt, the middle triplet, radiated an intense aura of power as his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. His muscles bulged with the raw strength that surged through his veins, ready to unleash a torrent of retribution upon their enemy. His voice, deep and resonant, reverberated with a chilling promise. "You have awoken a wrath within us that you cannot begin to comprehend. No one hurts our Mate and gets away with it."

My own twisted cravings eclipsed any sense of reason or morality. "Too bad, you worthless piece of shit, you couldn't do a goddamn thing to save your sorry excuse for a family and friends after I spelled out my plans for them to you," I spat, my voice laced with venomous delight. "You'll soon hear the sweet symphony of their screams, echoing through these godforsaken cells. The cries of your brothers, your men... It's over, Santino, and you're gonna watch every fucking second of it."

He pulled out a knife from his pocket and held it at her temple as he shoved his cock in her mouth. “Keep an eye on them and put a bullet in their head if you get a whiff of trouble,” I said to Anatoly. “I don’t trust these fucking animals.” Anatoly nodded. “It’ll be done.” “That’s enough,” I turned to the Krasnaya brigadiers. “What depravity you choose to do behind close doors is your choice. But if you are to be a part of my Bratva, you will learn to treat my gifts with some respect.”

I vow, glaring at him, willing him to combust from the sheer intensity of my rage. “I hardly doubt that,” he scoffs, but I detect a tremor of unease in his bravado. “I am going to break every single one of your 138 bones,” I begin, relishing the way his throat bobs with a convulsive swallow. “I will cut off your manhood and force it down your gullet. I will pluck out your eyes and peel away each nail before severing your fingers and toes from their sockets. And through it all, I will make sure oak tree venom will be in the room, ensuring you feel every exquisite slice, every agonizing fracture.”

This was a sacrifice, a necessary evil, a lie I had to live to get my vengeance. Ethan groaned as he thrust faster, his hips were like a powerful, frantic motion. The sounds of skin colliding was making it sound so pleasurable as I moaned, biting his shirt. The sound was not of a woman in love, but of a beast in a cage. He moaned so loud as he dug his fingers in my ass as he thrust so fast. The pain, the pleasure, the hatred, it was all a frantic, beautiful, and terrifying mix.

I looked up. The priest stared at me for one sad second, before he cleared his throat and began the vows. “Do you accept Dimitri Volkov, as your lawful husband..” My nails dug into my palms, as I clenched my fist. No please, I wouldn't. I will never! “To have and to hold..” My throat constricted. “from this day forward, for better or for worse,” I reached out one hand to steady my pounding heart. “for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until death do you part?”

There were only a few passersby, as it was already past midnight. Suddenly, a screeching noise of a car was heard, disturbing the peaceful atmosphere of the night. Not long after, a black sedan came into view, approaching at an extremely fast speed. The passersby turned towards the source of that awful noise. And then, as if in slow motion, the car arrived and slammed violently into the bollards, losing all control. The impact echoed like an explosion and the vehicle flipped once, twice, before crashing onto its roof with a brutal, final thud.

“Then stop talking and prove it.” Their clothes scattered like debris in a storm. He devoured her—mouth, teeth, tongue—a frenzy of lust and punishment. He left marks, bruises, evidence of possession across her skin like a signature. She returned each bruise with nails, with moans that dared him to go harder, faster. It was war. It was sex. It was something unholy and addictive. By the time they collapsed—sweat-slicked and breathless—her body ached, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

She walked closer to the commotion. She found herself in a large, cavernous room, its walls lined with worn leather couches and scarred tables. The scene before her was brutal and shocking, a stark contrast to the elegant balls and refined gatherings she had grown accustomed to. Five men who were following her lay sprawled on the floor, their bodies riddled with bullets, their blood staining the already grimy carpet. A sixth man, his face contorted in a mask of rage, stood over them, a smoking pistol clutched in his hand. Charlotte’s breath hitched in her throat. The violence was raw, visceral, a brutal display of power that left her feeling both nauseated and strangely fascinated.