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

Adrian sits in the dimly-lit room. Only the light from the phone that’s nestled between his long fingers is a break in the black. It could be because of the shadow the screen projects on his face, but he appears scarier now. No light present in his darkness. No escape. No reprieve.

He’s like a dark lord sitting on his throne.

A devil.

A monster.

A villain.

The innate need to run that I’ve felt ever since I stepped foot in this house—hell, since I first met him—strikes me again.

“You didn’t answer my question, Lia,” he reminds me ever so casually. Or what appears as casual, because it’s feigned. I can almost hear his actual tone, which is closed off, harsh, and is sucking on the essence of my soul.

Everything about him is sharp and has an edge. The top buttons of his shirt are undone, revealing a hint of his powerful chest. He’s half-relaxing in his seat with his long legs crossed at the ankles. Half, because his posture is still upright and he looks like he’s ready to pounce any second if he feels the need to.

How long has he been sitting in the shadows, anyway?

And why the hell am I having one nightmare after another ever since he brought me here?

“Lia.” The single word holds more warning than should be possible.

“You don’t need to know.” I slowly sit up, gently peeling Jeremy’s fingers from around my waist. He mumbles something in his sleep, and I brush his dark hair as I tuck him under the covers that are decorated with spaceships and stars.

“That’s two punishments.”

My head jerks up to face Adrian. “But…for what?”

“One for not learning the list Ogla gave you and the second for now.”

I knew Ogla was his damn spy. “But I didn’t talk back just now.”

“Defying me is equivalent to talking back. Not answering my questions warrants punishment, too.”

“Maybe you should make me a fucking list like the mafia one so I can learn it and magically tiptoe around it.”

“And that’s three.”

“You can’t be fucking serious.”

“Perfectly am. Four.”

“I’m not allowed to talk at all?” I snap.

“Not in that tone, no. Five.”

“Just stop it, already, and admit that you’re a sick bastard who gets off on spanking me.”

“Six.”

I open my mouth to say something, but soon seal it shut, realizing that whatever I say will only worsen my state.

Damn him.

He rattles me so much that I keep playing into his hands and digging myself into a hole with him. The visceral nightmare I just experienced isn’t helping either. Ever since I woke up, I’ve been jumpy and disoriented, having little to no control over my reactions.

“Go on, Lia.” Adrian’s calm yet threatening tone resonates in the air. “I’m very interested to see how far the number can go up.”

When I remain silent through the sheer force of my self-control, a small smirk tugs on his lips. “Now, tell me what you thought wasn’t real.”

“A nightmare,” I say quietly, because if I speak any louder, I’ll be snapping at him. He’s provoking me so he can get the number of my punishments higher, and I won’t give him that satisfaction.

His finger taps against his thigh once. “What type of nightmare?”

“None of your business.”

“And that’s seven.”

“What?”

“Eight.”

“Am I not even allowed to keep my nightmares to myself?”

“Not since you stepped into my house, no.” He drops the phone to his lap, places both of his elbows on his knees and leans forward, interlacing his fingers under his chin.

Even though it’s dark, I can almost see the blackness of his eyes. It’s not only something visual, but it can also be tasted in the air, leaving a sharp tang on my tongue.

“You don’t seem to grasp the situation, so let me explain it to you for the last time, Lia. You’re my wife, my property, my thing. That means you walk the line I trace and make the decisions I allow. If I say you leave your will at the door, you do. If I say you will walk blindly into a well, you will. In my house, my word is law and my decisions are final. If you feel the need to defy me, by all means, do. I’ll enjoy every second of whipping you into submission.”

My jaw aches, and I realize it’s because I’ve been clenching it tight during the entire time he spoke. I’ve never felt the need to bolt out of my skin like I do in this very moment. I want to fly out of here, to go somewhere, anywhere, where his presence isn’t squeezing my throat with imaginary hands.

But the sane part of my brain knows that I have no choice, that I can’t handle life in prison, no matter how tough I think I am. Being with him isn’t a choice, it’s the only means of survival I have.

Isn’t fate cruel? Why is my safety linked to one of the most dangerous men alive?

Adrian rises, and I scoot farther into Jeremy’s side, as if a child will be able to help me in this situation.

“Get up,” he orders.

“Why?”

“Nine. With every second you don’t stand, the count will increase.”

“I’m just asking,” I try not to snap, but end up doing it, anyway.