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

I hold her hands in mine and stare at the blisters that shouldn’t be on her skin. They’re freezing, too, as if her brain still thinks she’s sleeping on the streets, in dirty, cold parking garages.

Lifting her palms to my mouth, I blow on them until they’re warm enough, then slide them under the covers. I’m about to make her more comfortable when a knock sounds on the door.

I pull the duvet to her chin and take one last look at her face. “I’ll be right back, Lenochka.”

After stepping out, I slowly close the door behind me, making sure not to make a sound.

Kolya is standing in the hall, his frame blocking my view and his brow furrowed.

“Is Jeremy asleep?”

“Yes, but he was stressed.” He pauses.

“If you have something to say, say it, Kolya. I don’t have all night.”

“He seemed scared after he told me that…well, his mommy fell asleep while standing.”

At least he believes she fell asleep.

“Sir.”

“What?”

“May I speak freely?”

I raise a brow. “When haven’t you?”

“This isn’t right.”

“This?”

“All of this.” He motions with his head at the closed bedroom door. “Her here. Now.”

“Is Yan bitching to you?”

“No.”

“You don’t have to protect him, Kolya. You’re spoiling him.”

“This isn’t about Yan and you’re well aware of that.

“Let me worry about things here while you keep an eye on what’s happening in the rest of the brotherhood. We cannot be left behind.”

“We won’t, but she…”

“Stop talking about her, Kolya. It’s done. She’s here and that’s that.”

“She fainted, sir.”

“How would you know that?”

“People don’t just fall asleep standing. I’m not Jeremy.”

“She’ll be fine.”

“What if she—”

“Kolya,” I cut him off, my voice hardening. “Drop it.”

“This could backfire.”

“I said to stop fucking talking about her.”

He gives me a disapproving stare, one that says, ‘you’re fucked up and I regret being by your side for thirty years,’ but he knows not to test me in circumstances like these, so he nods and leaves.

I unbutton my shirt on my way back to my room.

This will be a long fucking night.





9





Winter





“Lenochka.”

I mumble in my sleep, my head feeling heavy and painful, as if a hammer is rummaging through it.

My breath is cut off.

I gasp, only to be met by something…soft? My eyes snap open and I find myself on my stomach, my face nestled against a pillow.

Long fingers undo the zipper of my dress and slide the cloth down my body.

For a second, I’m so disoriented, I don’t even know where I am, let alone what’s happening. I shouldn’t be sleeping on a bed, and not just any bed; this one is warm, soft, I pick up the scent of mysterious wood and rich leather.

Reality kicks back in with a tumbling force that keeps me gasping for air. I came with Adrian to his house. After I saw his son, I had a visceral recollection of my daughter and then…what?

What happened after that? Where am I?

More importantly, what’s going on right now?

Air clashes against my bare skin, forming goosebumps. The dress is gone and I’m only wearing a strapless bra and the lace panties Emily gave me earlier.

My shoulders snap into a rigid line as sweat covers my brow. I’m terrified to look behind me and see the look in his eyes right now. If I do, I’ll be trapped and driven to the point of no return. However, abstaining from looking at him doesn’t diminish from his sheer presence or the overwhelming heat he emanates. It radiates off my skin like flames licking it—or death kissing it.

My mind flashes in all directions as the reality of what’s happening settles at the bottom of my stomach with a thud.

Adrian couldn’t be so cruel as to do this, right?

What am I thinking? Of course he is. Everything he’s done thus far to have me under his thumb only proves the lengths he’ll go to in order to get what he wants.

Maybe…maybe if I pretend to be asleep, he’ll stop. Maybe he only meant to remove my dress.

Even as I think that, I know I’m merely fooling myself. He’s not the type who can be stopped. I know that, I saw it in his eyes and I’m currently feeling it with his firm touch.

“What are you doing?” My voice is slow, broken, and so damn terrified.

“Don’t talk.” He’s speaking with an American accent. There’s no Russian accent present now.

He clicks the strap of my bra open and I stiffen as he pulls it out from underneath me, leaving me half-naked. My breasts meet the soft mattress, but it feels like cold metal, one that’s ready to cut through my nipples.

“Adrian, please…” I whisper as a tear rolls down my cheek. “Don’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“Whatever you’re doing. I’m scared.”

“You like being scared.”