Consumed by Deception (Deception Trilogy #3) by Rina Kent

Having lived more than half a decade with him, I should’ve been used to his cold, unfeeling side by now. I should’ve considered his aloofness normal. But I guess someone like me will never be able to overlook that side of him, and I sure as hell will never understand it.

I let my hands fall to my sides as I hold on to a quivering thread of logic. “I jumped earlier than I was supposed to. It was an accident, not Ryan’s fault.”

“Yes, it was. Yan witnessed it and I saw it on the footage. Kolya and Boris did, too. That fucker could’ve caught you but chose not to.”

“And you saw all that through some footage?”

“Correct, because, unlike you, I read the worst in people before the good. In fact, I only see their bad side, and that blond bastard deserved every bullet I emptied into his body.”

My lips shake and nausea assaults me at the sadistic undertone in his voice. The tone that implies he enjoyed every second of killing Ryan and is not the least bit remorseful about it.

“You don’t even see what you did wrong, do you?” I whisper.

“I just told you he was the reason behind the end of your career and you’re saying I’m wrong?”

“Yes, Adrian! You’re wrong because you fixed something ugly with something way uglier. Did you think I’d be thankful that you killed someone? Or that I’d be flattered that you did it for me?”

“I didn’t expect you to be, no. That’s why I never told you.”

“What else haven’t you told me? Is there a line of other bodies you’ve killed for me buried somewhere?”

Adrian’s in my face in a split-second, his hand shooting out for me before I can make an escape. He imprisons my chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing me to stare up at him. “So what if there are? What if there fucking are? You labeled me a killer, a devil, a monster, a stalker, a fucking villain. This is what villains do, Lia. We kill for our end goals, and we do it often. So get your head out of the clouds and stop pretending you’re not part of this, part of me.”

“You can chastise me all you want, but you won’t twist my morals. I’ll never get behind murdering people.”

“I don’t give a fuck whether you get behind it or not, but you will not question me when I make a decision with the intention of protecting you.”

“A decision like killing Ryan?” I bite out.

“Like torturing and killing Ryan, yes.”

“T-torturing?”

“He didn’t have the privilege to die fast so I—”

“Stop! I don’t want to hear the details.”

“You brought this up, so you’ll hear all about how I cut his precious legs and stomped all over them. How I took a knife to his flesh and severed the tendons while he wailed and begged and pissed himself.”

“I said stop!” My voice chokes as the gruesome images fill my head.

“That’s what I do, Lia. I can’t stop when it comes to you. If I had a chance to go back in time, I would’ve ended his miserable life that day in the club when he dared to put his fucking hands on you. If I had, you wouldn’t have lost ballet.”

“But I lost it, Adrian. I’d already lost it. Did killing Ryan bring it back?”

“No, but it was a small price to pay. He deserved to die for driving you to stand on that windowsill with the intent of finishing your life.”

“You drove me to stand on a cliff ready to finish my life, too. Do you deserve to die for that?”

I regret the words as soon as I say them. Shit. I’m so pissed at him that I didn’t filter my thoughts. That’s not what I meant to say, it came out wrong, but before I can retract them, Adrian speaks with chilling quietness. “Probably. But I can’t die, because that will leave you and our son unprotected.”

“It’s not…I…”

He flattens his thumb against my lips, putting a halt to any words I can form. “Shhh. You’ve angered me enough for one day. You don’t want me to punish you more than what I’m already planning.”

My thighs clench at the promise of his punishment for me. My body doesn’t recognize the anger I still feel toward Adrian and his actions. Or maybe it does and it couldn’t care less, having grown accustomed to my husband’s cold-heartedness. He’ll never change, no matter what I do. He’s just wired differently and he doesn’t give a fuck about how that looks in the eyes of others.

Even mine.

In fact, he’s willing to go the extra mile to mold me to his ways. But that will never happen. Because I killed someone, and even though he was a criminal, that incident messed with my head so much, I’m surprised I was able to survive it. Barely.

Adrian removes his hand. “Strip.”

“W-what?”

“You heard me.”

“But why…?” It’s the first time he’s ever asked me to strip. Usually, he’s the one who does that, taking pleasure in yanking my clothes off my body and ripping my panties.

“Don’t ask questions. When I tell you to strip, you fucking strip, Lia.”

I flinch at the hard edge in his authoritative tone, but it’s not out of fear—at least, not entirely. My panties are soaked with arousal at the command in his voice and my hands instinctively go to the back of my dress. I don’t know if it’s the intrusive way he’s watching me or the unknown that’s waiting for me, but my hand is unsteady on the zipper as I awkwardly slide it down.