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

I stare at her, then at how her hand trembles in mine. It took courage for her to admit to the fact that, in a way, she empathizes with me. Even if it goes against her core principles.

The therapist jots a few notes on her pad and clears her throat as she slides her attention to me. “What do you think of what Lia said, Mr. Volkov?”

I face Lia as I speak. “I think you’re brave for seeing my side, even if you didn’t have to.”

“But we’re husband and wife. I’m supposed to see your side…just like you’re supposed to see mine, Adrian.”

I know what she’s getting at. Lia wants me to see how much she loathes the mafia part of my life. The hunting, killing, and torturing. And while I do understand her hate, there’s no escaping the reality of our lives.

If anything, leaving the Bratva would mean I’d lose its protection. We’d be vulnerable and on the run. And that’s not a fate I’d inflict on her and our son.

But in order to keep her and shield her mind, I need to stop being forceful with her fragile mentality. I’ll wait until she rebuilds herself and stand with her every step of the way.

One day, she’ll realize that the world we live in doesn’t matter.

We’re the only ones who do.





17





Lia





A week later, we go on vacation.

This isn’t the place I had in mind when I suggested a retreat. In fact, it’s probably the last location I would’ve ever thought about.

But here we are.

In Russia.

I should’ve known that Adrian’s unpredictable nature would strike again.

He took us on a private flight to a house with a redbrick roof in the countryside with a smaller cottage situated beside it. It’s surrounded by miles of land, covered by snow that’s formed layer upon layer over other layers. Trees line the property, casting a cozy feel on the driveway that leads to the house. When Kolya drove us here, we barely saw any other houses on the way.

It’s not a surprise that Adrian wouldn’t take us to a place full of people. He’s too paranoid about security to ever do that, and in a way, I prefer less crowded areas, too. I never liked the outside world too much, even before I married him.

If I thought New York was cold, Russia is fucking freezing. We’re talking temperatures below zero. The only way I’m able to cross the distance from the car to the house is because Adrian carries an excited Jeremy with one arm and holds me close with the other.

Yan, Boris, Kolya, and two other guards escorted us. Yan insisted on coming, saying his injury is completely fine, and even though Kolya was against it, Adrian surprisingly allowed it. My friend said it’s because his boss wants to keep a closer eye on him.

As soon as we’re inside, I release a relieved breath. Warmth instantly seeps into my bones and chases away the merciless cold from outside. I honestly have great respect for people who survive such harsh winters year in and year out.

The place is fully heated and seems to have been already prepared for us. It’s small, cozy, and has a cottage-like feel to it. The dark wood flooring seems to be heated as well. A living area with large, mismatched sofas is just inside the entrance and across from what I assume is the kitchen. There are narrow wood stairs that lead to the second floor, where I’m guessing the bedrooms are located.

Adrian puts Jeremy down and our son sprints in different directions before he gawks at the snow from the glass door that opens up to the balcony. “Mommy! Can we make a snowman?”

The mere thought of going back into that cold makes me shudder.

“Not now, Malysh.” Adrian smiles at him. “There’s a storm coming tonight.”

“Then tomorrow?” Jer asks hopefully.

“Yes.”

“And you’ll join us, Papa?”

“I will.”

“Yay!” He jumps up and down, then runs straight to Adrian’s leg.

Kolya and Boris bring our bags inside and nod as they’re about to leave.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“The other cottage, Mrs. Volkov,” Kolya says.

“To stand guard,” Boris elaborates.

“Hell no! You’re not standing guard in this freezing cold.”

Adrian glares down at me and I glare right back. “What? Surely you’re not making them go outside when there’s a storm coming. They’ll freeze to death.”

“They will not,” he says with slight exasperation.

“Of course they will. Have you seen all the snow?”

“I have and so did they. We’re Russians, and we can handle the cold.”

“No.”

“No?” he repeats with clear skepticism, as if he doesn’t believe I just told him no in front of his men.

“Yes, no. This is supposed to be a vacation, not a way to test their endurance in the cold. Who would even reach us here?”

“You would be surprised,” Adrian says and nods at his guards, who nod back and leave.

“Come back for dinner,” I call after them. “Bring Yan and the others, too.”

They don’t show any sign of hearing me and continue on their way. As soon as the door closes behind them, Adrian towers over me, his face a mask of coldness that mirrors the outside. He speaks low enough that Jeremy—who’s preoccupied with running his toy soldier across the windowsill—doesn’t hear. “Don’t ever, and I mean ever, defy me in front of my men again unless you’re in the mood to be punished in their presence.”