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

It’s almost as if she’s fantasizing about opening the door and jumping out while the vehicle is speeding down the road.

She’s slightly unpredictable, so I wouldn’t put that action past her. I can still feel the sting of her slap on my skin, and a part of me is demanding I punish her for that insult.

But all will be well in due course.

For the rest of the ride, she doesn’t look at me, probably scared that I’ll act on my threats from earlier. She’s smart at times but has foolish patterns at others. She still doesn’t know who I am or what I do, but she’s already figured out that I’m not a man she can afford to mess with. And for that, all her walls are up with wires wrapped around them.

What she doesn’t realize is that I can and will destroy those walls until I get what I want.

If there’s anything I learned from my fucked-up parents, it’s to be like a river with a strong current. Not only will others think twice before they cross me, but I’ll also clear out everything in my way, whether it’s friends, enemies, or her.

We arrive at one of our malls downtown. It’s owned by the Bratva’s legal front, V Corp, the company that’s currently managed by the Pakhan’s grandniece, Rai.

I didn’t go through her to come here, though, because no one needs to know about this.

Kolya and Yan get out first and stand guard by the side of the car, facing away from me. Winter stares at me from under her lashes, silently questioning what we’re doing here.

“Remove the coat,” I tell her.

“Why?”

“Stop talking back and do as you’re told.”

I can see the spark of rebellion in her aqua eyes, the need to question me again. I wait for it, intending to squash it once and for all, but she blinks away that urge and opts to pick her battles.

She unbuttons her coat and slides down the zipper before she removes it and lays it on her lap. I pull the thing from under her fingers and throw it out the window. Kolya catches it and walks with it toward the trash.

Her gaze follows the action, eyes wide, as if I murdered her favorite puppy. “Why did you do that?”

“It smells and makes you look like a beggar.”

“I am a fucking beggar,” she snaps, then clamps her lips together when she realizes her mistake.

“What did I say about talking back? Do you wish for a few years in prison? Is that it?”

“N-no.”

“Seems like it.”

“I’m sorry. Okay?”

I don’t like the tone she speaks to me with. It doesn’t sound apologetic at all. If anything, it’s a bit sarcastic. This woman is a lot different from my Lia.

Deciding to let it go for now, I study her, tapping my fingers on my thigh. She’s wearing baggy jeans and an ugly striped sweater that swallows her tiny frame, making her appear like a runaway pubescent kid. But her clothes don’t stink like the urine and vomit from her coat.

Something else smells, though.

“Remove the gloves.”

This time, she doesn’t ask why and does as she’s told. I throw them out the window, too. Black lines of dirt have taken refuge under her ragged nails and a few red blisters mar her fingers due to the cold.

I reach into the console beside the driver’s seat and retrieve some wet wipes. She stiffens when I take her hands in mine, her pupils dilating as I clean them off. They’re as frail and small as Lia’s, and they’re pale, almost to a sickening level. Only the red blisters and the green veins peeking from underneath her skin show a break of color.

Reaching into my pocket, I retrieve my wife’s wedding ring and slide it into her finger. Her expression widens and she stiffens but she thankfully keeps her mouth shut.

Instead of asking her to remove the hat, I do it myself. She remains still as her greasy blonde—or half-blonde—hair falls to her shoulders. After I throw the filthy scrap of fur out the window to join the other trash, I use the wet wipes to clean her face.

She tries to do it herself, but a single glance from me makes her drop her hands to her lap. I glide the cloth over her forehead, the soft contours of her cheeks, and the ridge of her nose. When I move to her chapped lips, they part slightly. I try meeting her gaze to see what she’s thinking, but she’s staring at her hands lying limply in her lap.

When my thumb pauses at the lower line of her bottom lip, a dark desire grips hold of me, and I’m tempted to bite it into my mouth and feast on the cracked exterior. To see if she’ll scream.

As if sensing my thoughts, Winter trembles, but it’s for something a lot different than desire.

Fear. Raw, potent fear.

I release her and she pushes back against the leather seat.

Opening the car door, I step out and take in a long inhale of the night air. I stride to her side and open hers as well. “Get out.”

She does, cautiously, and instantly shivers, wrapping her arms around herself. When I remove my coat and drape it around her, she stares up at me with a weird expression, one that says she never expected someone like me would do that.

Kolya shrugs off his jacket and offers it to me, but I shake my head. I’m not cold. If anything, I’ve been hotter than normal today.

“Follow me,” I tell her and she starts to hobble.

When I turn around to inspect the problem, she comes to a halt, her sock-covered foot resting on top of the other.