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

After a few failed attempts, Lia calls for Yan, who joins them. She motions at the bench, probably inviting him to sit, but he shakes his head once.

So she stands up, grabs him by the hand, and drags him to the seat beside her. Yan’s alert gaze meets mine through the window, and I’m about ready to go out there and beat him to a pulp.

I know it’s not his fault, that she did it, but my brain can’t look past her hand on his. Her hand is on his.

As if sensing my murderous plans, Yan swiftly pulls away, but that doesn’t extinguish the fire that’s burning holes in my chest.

Staring him down, I motion at him to get the fuck up, and he immediately starts to comply, but Lia places a hand on his knee, forcing him to stay.

That’s it. I’m going to kill him.

I tilt my head to the side and motion at him to leave. In that moment, Lia turns around and faces me, her eyes narrowed and lips pursed, then she mouths, “Stop it.”

Me, stop it?

I retrieve my phone and type her a text.

Adrian: Get in here.

She stares at her screen for a second, her lips pursing further before she types back at rapid-fire speed.

Lia: No. I’m playing with Jeremy.

Adrian: That’s three, Lenochka.

Her eyes widen and she meets my gaze through the window.

Lia: I did nothing wrong today.

Adrian: You touched Yan twice and you just refused a direct order. Three.

Lia: You’re impossible.

Adrian: I will show you how impossible I can truly become if you don’t get in here in the next minute.

Lia glares at me through the window, her temper rising with every second before she types.

Lia: No.

Adrian: Then tell Yan to come.

A frown etches her delicate brow.

Lia: Why?

Adrian: So he can pay for touching you.

Lia: He didn’t do it. I did.

Adrian: Doesn’t matter.

The fact that she’s defending him makes his case worse, and the more she takes Yan’s side, the deeper his grave gets.

Lia: You need help, okay?

Adrian: And that’s four.

Lia jerks upright, throwing her phone beside Jeremy. He stares up at her with unsure eyes, but soon smiles when she kisses his cheeks and probably tells him she won’t be long.

Yan stands as well, but remains by Jeremy’s side.

Kolya, who must’ve witnessed the entire thing, gets to his feet and grabs his laptop. “I’ll be in the annex if you need me.”

“What?” I ask when he doesn’t attempt to go.

“Why do you keep Yan as her guard when you don’t trust him around her?”

“I’m testing him.”

“You’re breaking him in.”

“Same thing.”

“Still.”

“Stop spoiling him, Kolya. He’s not a kid anymore. In fact, he’s more cunning and works under the surface deeper than you’re blinded to see.”

“You’re only saying that because he’s close to Mrs. Volkov.”

“And you’re only defending him because you refuse to recognizes what he’s turned into. Can’t you see it?”

He frowns. “See what?”

“Yan is not the little kid who used to follow you around wherever you went.”

He pauses as if he wants to say something, but thinks better of it, nods, and leaves.

I click my monitors shut and head to my minibar to pour myself a glass of cognac on ice. By the time I settle back into my chair, the door opens not so gently as a furious Lia barges inside and slams it shut behind her.

Taking my time, I drink her in. She removed the coat and is wearing a light pink dress that flattens against the curve of her breasts and waist before falling to her knees. Her cheeks are red, her lips pursed, accentuating the cut from when she bit them to the point of drawing blood.

That will change.

Sooner or later, that habit will disappear.

Sooner or later, she’ll be completely mine. Literally. Figuratively. In every sense of the word.

I click on the remote, causing the curtains to fall closed, shielding us from the outside world.

“What the hell do you want?” she snaps.

“And that’s five, Lenochka.” I motion at her to move closer. “Now, come here.”





19





Winter





My temper is about to snap and break all hell loose.

I’m so tempted to get out of his office—to hell with his punishments every night. The sick bastard always finds a reason to spank me or whip me, anyway, so it’s not like tonight will be any different.

He’s making it his mission to not allow me to sit comfortably and to feel every lash of his punishment whenever I move. I constantly sense his presence with me, even when we don’t see each other. It’s a persistent reminder of my shameful orgasms and how my body responds to the pain as stimulation instead of discomfort.

The worst part is that I look forward to nighttime now. I look forward to all the things he’ll do to me in the confinements of the bedroom’s walls. Sometimes, I lie in still in the morning and feel like a slut for taking another woman’s role and orgasming on the bed she slept in for years. I feel like an imposter and a horrible human being.

But come nightfall, all those thoughts vanish, except for the feel of his skin on mine. The scent of his cologne. The sheer power of his presence.