Vow of Deception (Deception Trilogy #1) by Rina Kent

But her beauty and elegance aren't the reason for my trembling fingers.

It’s all of her.

I’m staring at a dark-haired, clean, and well-groomed version of myself. I barely remember the last time I was as clean as she is, but I do remember my reflection in the mirror at the hospital a few weeks ago, and I definitely looked like this woman, only with blonde hair.

“That’s why it has to be you.”

I startle at the stranger’s voice. While I was lost in his wife’s picture, I just about forgot that he was there all along.

“But how…?”

“How?” he repeats with a slight furrow in his brow.

“How is this possible? I was an only child, so she…” I chance another look at her. “She can’t be my twin or my sister.”

“She isn’t related to you by blood.”

“Then…how do you explain the resemblance?” Scary one, at that. She even has my freaking eye color that I’ve always thought was rare as hell.

“Do you believe in doppelgängers, Winter?”

“Doppelgängers?” I scoff. “Are you joking?”

“Do I look like the type who jokes?” The authoritativeness in his tone causes me to glue myself to the closed car door. Shit. He really is terrifying.

“N-no.”

“Correct.”

“Are you saying she and I are doppelgängers? How is that possible?”

“It’s more common than you think.”

“I still…don’t believe it.”

“It doesn’t matter what you believe. It’s already happening.”

“Already happening?”

“Yes. You will be my wife.”

“No. I didn’t agree to this.”

“Didn’t agree to this,” he muses, as if my words are somehow comical. “You believe you have that option? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

I inch farther into the door until the handle digs into my side. “I’m a free person.”

“Free? How do you define freedom? Is it sleeping in parking garages and begging for food?”

“The way I live is none of your business.”

“Don’t talk back to me again or you won’t like the way I react.” He’s so calm in issuing his threat, but that doesn’t diminish its impact. I wish I could become one with the floorboard or the door—I’m not picky.

He stares at me for a beat too long, making sure his words hit their mark, before he continues, “You’ll have a roof over your head, a warm bed to sleep in, and hot meals all day long.”

The picture he’s painting is tempting, but he is not. He’s far from tempting. He’s so frightening that even sitting beside him is giving me a sense of anxiety. I feel like I need to be in fight-or-flight mode around him. Actually, I’ll have to go with flight because the fight option will definitely get me killed.

So while I do want all the things he listed, their price—being with him—isn’t something I can afford to pay.

I need to find a way out of this.

“If you’re still not convinced, fine.”

My head snaps up to meet his blank gaze. “You’re letting me go?”

“If you wish.”

I narrow my eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, but the police are on standby a few blocks away. As soon as you leave this car, you’ll be arrested for the murder of Richard Green.”

I gasp. How…how the hell does he know about that?

“I blocked the police and media from divulging your name and picture, but if you’d rather live on the streets, then you won’t mind prison. You should thank me, really. They at least give you meals there.”

I can feel the car closing in on me, its seats turning into octopus tentacles to choke me.

He’s planned everything from the murder to the police to how they never mentioned any detail about me. But he’s been playing his cards, one by each one in a methodical, psychopathic way. He never planned to give me any choice to begin with. He came here with the purpose of turning me into his wife, and I can do nothing to escape this fate.

“Why…” I swallow the tears and the clog in my throat. “Why didn’t you use that threat from the beginning? Why did you give me hope that I could refuse this?”

“It wasn’t my intention to give you hope. And you couldn’t have refused me, Winter. You’re a nobody. A pest everyone stomps on without looking twice. A nameless, forgettable face no one remembers down the line. Be grateful that I’m giving you this offer. Say thank you and go with it.”

I raise my hand and slap him across the face so hard, pain bursts over my palm and shoots down my arm.

A weird type of anger took hold of me at his words, and I needed to relieve it somewhere. This is the only solution my brain came up with.

One that I now realize could cost me my life.

The stranger’s eyes darken and a muscle tics under his stubbled jaw.

I fully expect him to strike—or punch—me back, and I squeeze my trembling lips together in preparation for the impact.

However, his hand loops around my nape and he hauls me over so that my face is mere inches away from his. “The last person who dared to touch me is now buried six feet under.”

I gulp down the lump in my throat. His words alone are suffocating me and digging my grave. I would’ve preferred he hit me instead.