Vows of Vengeance

Note from the author:

Vows of Vengeance is Book 2 of the Bloodlines of Power series.

However, it can be enjoyed as a standalone — you do not need to read Book 1 before diving into this story.

Things you need to know before you start reading:

Leo De’Romano is the heir to the De’Romano empire, son of Sophia & Luciano De’Romano — feared across the underworld for his cold ruthlessness and unmatched control. Trained to lead from birth, Leo commands respect and terror with a single glance. Standing at 6’4, with a powerful, athletic build, inked tattoos tracing along his tanned, sculpted skin, he’s every inch a king forged from blood and vengeance. Silent. Dangerous. Consumed by a need for revenge — until one wild, untouchable woman turns his world into a battlefield.

Ava Moretti is the darling of high society — stunning, rebellious, and dangerously untamed. Born into the powerful Moretti family, she’s known for her beauty, fiery spirit, and refusal to be caged by expectations. Ava stands at 5’6, with a flawless hourglass figure, long, silky dark hair, and green eyes that dare the world to tame her. Sweet but defiant, her dream was freedom — not the ruthless marriage that ties her to her greatest enemy.

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Ava’s POV

Sunlight streamed through the arched windows of the Moretti estate, flooding the grand hall in a warm golden glow. The mansion stood proudly — opulent, sprawling, and whispering wealth in every carved corner and marble stair. The massive chandelier hanging above the staircase glittered like a waterfall of crystal, casting delicate prisms on the polished floors below.

Ava rushed down the grand staircase, her heels tapping with effortless grace. Dressed in high-waisted cream trousers and a silk blouse, her long dark hair fell over her shoulders in soft waves. She looked like a vision out of a fashion editorial — but she moved like a woman with purpose.

She passed the butler with a polite smile and walked quickly into the lavish dining room. The room was enormous — the walls decorated in deep burgundy and gold accents, tall windows draped in velvet curtains, and a table that seemed to stretch for miles. A vase of fresh white lilies sat in the center, the scent delicate but lingering.

Her mother, Maria Moretti, elegant in a mauve robe, sipped her coffee while scanning the latest society column. Her father, seated at the head of the table in a sharp three-piece suit, glanced up from his tablet.

Ava grabbed a piece of toast and leaned down to kiss her mother’s cheek.

“Okay guys, I’m gonna head out.”

Maria looked up, her brows knitting gently. “Ava, cara, just sit for five minutes. Have some breakfast.”

“I can’t, Mum, I’m already running late. I’ve got morning rounds.” She took a quick bite of the toast.

Her father lowered his tablet. “Is your sister up yet?”

“Emma’s still asleep,” Ava replied. “I think she had a rough night.”

There was a beat of silence. Ava could feel it—the tension lingering beneath her parents' composed expressions. The kind that comes from unanswered calls and unexplained absences.

Her brother hadn’t been home in weeks. No word, no explanation. And while this wasn’t the first time Matteo had pulled a disappearing act, this time felt heavier. Their parents tried to mask it, but the worry was there—in the stillness, in the silences.

“I’ll check on her later,” Ava added softly. “Don’t worry.”

Maria smiled faintly. “Drive safely.”

With one last smile, Ava left the room, her heels echoing through the halls.

Outside, her black Porsche waited, glinting beneath the morning sun. She slid behind the wheel, her diamond stud earrings catching the light as she pushed her hair back and put the car in gear.

Ava Moretti wasn’t just another rich girl with a famous last name. She had graduated top of her class and had recently started working at one of the most prestigious hospitals. She was a doctor—intelligent, composed, and ambitious. She didn’t care that she could have lived off her family's fortune for the rest of her life. She wanted more. She was more.

She pulled into the hospital’s private staff parking lot and parked neatly in her reserved spot. Slinging her white coat over her arm and grabbing her ID badge, she walked toward the staff entrance, her heels clipping confidently.

But just as she reached for the handle—

A strong hand clamped over her mouth.

Her eyes widened in shock.

A second arm wrapped tightly around her waist as a sharp chemical scent flooded her nose.

Her heart pounded. She kicked, struggled, tried to scream—but it was no use. The cloth over her face burned her nostrils, blurred her vision.

Her last thought before everything went black was her sister’s sleepy smile that morning.

Then darkness swallowed her whole.

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Leonardo’s POV

High above the chaos of the city, Leo De’Romano stood in his office — the throne room of a new king.

The space was a sleek fortress of glass, steel, and dominance. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the city skyline, while the interior exuded masculine luxury: dark oak walls, Italian leather furniture, crystal decanters, and a sprawling black marble desk that screamed power. A vintage pistol rested beside an untouched espresso, while a priceless painting hung just above the liquor bar behind him.

Leo stood with his back to the view, broad shoulders wrapped in a custom charcoal suit that hugged every defined muscle. The white shirt beneath strained slightly across his chest, and the black silk tie he wore was precise—like the man himself.

Dark stubble shadowed his sharp jaw, and his emerald-green eyes were as cold and unreadable as the steel safe built into the wall behind him.

The door creaked open, and Enzo—his right-hand man—stepped in without hesitation.

“Boss.”

Leo didn’t look away from the window. “What is it?”

“We’ve got the Russian contact asking for a sit-down next week. Says he wants to talk business—something about expanding into Naples. You want me to shut it down?”

Leo took a long breath, then turned. “Set the meeting. But on our ground.”

Enzo nodded, pulling out his phone to make arrangements.

Leo moved toward his desk, his every step controlled, deliberate. He was a man of few words—just like his father—but unlike Luciano, Leo’s silence came with a razor edge. Where Luciano was respected, Leo was feared. He’d taken control of the De’Romano empire with ruthless efficiency, and he wasn’t about to let anything threaten it.

Still, the legacy weighed heavy. He could feel it every time someone compared him to his father.

Leo De’Romano had already made his mark.

But this world demanded more.

And soon... he’d show them exactly what he was capable of.