Deceitful Lies by Brook Wilder

 

Chapter 30

Paige

 

Last night, Andrei didn’t sleep in our bed. It’s almost 10:00 p.m. now, and I haven’t seen him all day.

 

I stare out the living room window toward the woods, my heart in limbo as I peer into the darkness. Everywhere I look, I’m reminded of the danger that has entered my life since meeting Andrei. Everywhere, I feel dread and see brutality.

 

Even in myself.

 

Why do I even stay? The question rises in my head. My hands caress my stomach, and I press my hot forehead against the cool glass.

 

Am I here only because of the baby? If anything, that should motivate me to run. If I really loved my baby, I would try to protect it. But how can I protect it when I can barely protect myself?

 

There’s noise at the far end of the mansion, and I hurry to the window in the spare bedroom to look out. Below, I can make out the driveway leading out of the other garage. Andrei’s Lamborghini pulls out first, making a sharp turn toward the front gate. Four of the Rovers follow behind his car and disappear.

 

I stare at the empty pavement below as if I can make him come back by willpower alone.

 

My heart races, and my throat tightens with anxiety. I try to take a breath but feel nausea rising as I stumble into the closest bathroom. Hanging my head over the toilet, I wait as dry heaves sting my chest. Panting, I slide down onto the floor, crying miserably, wishing Andrei would turn his car around and come home.

 

I can’t stand knowing he’s gone out. Especially because I know what Andrei does when he’s away. With my fist clenched, I curl up on the floor and berate myself viciously. My forehead presses hard against the bathroom tile. My nails scratch at the floor as a growl escapes. I shake with anger because I love Andrei.

 

Like a stupid little fool.

 

A noise from outside the room catches my attention, and I wait to hear it again. Hurrying into the living room, I smirk as I watch the silver door handle jiggle. No one else has the keys to Andrei’s suite, not even me.

 

Once, they kept me in, and now, I’m keeping them out. I walk to the door as the handle jiggles again. I swing it open with a tilt of my chin, proud of myself for regaining a fraction of control over my insane life.

 

Natasha stares back at my tearstained face, and I feel my cheeks flush with shame. I must look a mess after lying on the bathroom floor crying over him.

 

“What?” My tone is sharp as I glare at her uncertain expression.

 

“May I come in, Paige Geraldovna?”

 

I walk away from the door, leaving it open, and Natasha walks into the room. She doesn’t slyly glance around as usual. She knows I’m alone.

 

“You didn’t leave with my husband?” I ask, plopping down into a swivel-based armchair and tugging my robe shut across my knees.

 

“No.” Her mask is unreadable as she watches me carefully. “Are you feeling well?”

 

I scoff. “Did my husband send you here to check on me?”

 

“I was concerned,” she replies slowly. “I came of my own volition.”

 

“Funny. Because you sounded just like him. He does something I don’t like, and somehow, I’m being irrational and emotional.”

 

“You are carrying his baby,” she replies evenly.

 

“So, it’s the hormones?” I narrow my gaze and take my frustration out on her. “That’s the only reason I could be acting this way?”

 

Natasha sighs. She probably wishes she had gone with Andrei instead of dealing with his flake of a wife, who barely understands the Bratva. Natasha doesn’t handle emotions the same way she handles a gun.

 

But I look away first. “Why don’t you sit down?” I say to her, trying to reel in my emotions.

 

Natasha hesitates, her gaze flickering between the armchair beside me and the open door. “Only if I can speak frankly,” she replies.

 

I nod, and she sits beside me, relaxing into the deep chair. She pauses, carefully considering how to phrase what she wants to say.

 

“I didn’t like you when I first met you,” she confesses. “I thought you were weak, but you proved me wrong many times. I try to sympathize with what you’re experiencing. We all do. But it’s hard to imagine. We’ve only known this life. This is our norm, and not yours. Someone should have guided you from the start …”

 

“Like how you’re guiding my sister?” I ask, my voice a low challenge. 

 

Natasha’s eyes widen as she stares at me in brief shock. It’s a rare moment that I hope to remember forever. The moment fades, and she regains her composure.

 

“Why would you think that?” she asks cautiously.

 

I cut her off. “Stop, Natasha. There’s no other reason a person like you would spend time with a sixteen-year-old girl. Emma is mesmerized by all the excitement and money. She thinks we’re playing gangster, and nothing can go wrong.”

 

Natasha arches a brow. “You do me and your sister a disservice.”

 

“So, I’m mistaken?” I ask, daring her to lie. “You’re not using Emma’s naivety to the Bratva’s advantage?”

 

Natasha stares at me intently before finally responding. “You may not have been willing to come here,” she says sternly. “But now you’ve made a choice to stay as Andrei Vasilyevich’s wife. You’ve been given privileges for your loyalty. Your sister is also making the choices she needs to make to adapt to her new surroundings.”

 

We both know each other’s dark secrets without pushing further.

 

At the Novikovs’ wedding, I knew right away that Andrei was a dangerous man. I saw it in his eyes and heard it in his smooth voice. But I was irresistibly attracted to him in a way I couldn’t understand. I felt drawn to him in a way that made me afraid.

 

I fought those feelings stubbornly, but I knew I would lose if I saw him again.

 

At the time, anything was better than my old life. And even knowing all the risks, my heart craved the thrill of being his only woman.

 

It feels like love now, and I allow myself to believe that it is love. The way he looks at me when he’s kind. The way he says my name when we’re in bed. The chill I feel when he touches me …

 

Doesn’t he feel it too? If so, why won’t Andrei say it? Why does he refuse to tell me what I want to hear?

 

“You’re starting to accept the reality.” Natasha’s smooth voice cuts into my thoughts. “Andrei Vasilyevich was born a dangerous man, and that excites the good girl in you. He will never change, not for you or your child. You will have to be the one who changes. It angers you because you know you can be as strong as he is. But that same strength also terrifies you, because you know what it can lead you to do.”

 

Shamefully, memories of my giddiness at seeing the severed head return. Natasha is right.

 

My voice shakes as I speak. “It’s not a strength to be a cold-hearted murderer.”

 

“It is if you want to survive,” she answers.

 

My voice is barely a whisper as my shoddy confidence slips away and leaves me trembling. “I’m scared, Natasha. But it’s not what you think.”

 

Danger looms large in my life, and now, in Emma’s. Everywhere I look, I’m reminded of the criminal life we’re currently living. Illegal deals are routine talk at the breakfast table. Hits are appointments scheduled in an app. Threats are made like promises to be kept.

 

And in the center of it all is Andrei. The man who stole my body, and now, my heart.

 

How can love exist in a place so corrupt?

 

“It’s hard to believe,” I murmur to myself. “Hardly a few months ago, I was completely oblivious. All I wanted was to take care of my family. I was engaged to someone else …” I shake my head at the memory. “Then I met Andrei, and everything changed overnight.”

 

Natasha reaches for my hand, and I let her hold it. “Your hand is cold.” She rubs both my hands in her warm palms. Her concern worries me more than her stony gazes.

 

“Andrei has never been in love before,” she continues. “He loves Eva, but that’s his mother. He’s never been in a serious romantic relationship before. And maybe he’s guarded. He’s scared of hurting you, and I can see it.”

 

I sniff. “Do you really believe that? He’s not the type of man to be afraid.”

 

“His love couldn’t protect his mother from his monstrous father. A father who hated his son.”

 

“Why did Vasily hate Andrei?” I ask.

 

“Because Andrei dared to defend his mother,” she replies. “You’re lucky to have Andrei, but you must learn to accept him as he is. Andrei will care for you and cherish your child, but you cannot expect more.”

 

Lucky, lucky girl. Her first words to me echo like a dull drumbeat.

 

I don’t speak as Natasha continues to rub my hands until they finally warm up. What terrifies me more is how my feelings for Andrei have grown despite everything. I never expected to feel such a deep connection with any man. I thought that kind of love was made up in movies or for other people. Better people, whole people, disillusioned people. But this is real, and it grows in intensity every day.

 

“Did they go out to murder someone?” I ask softly.

 

Natasha pulls her hands away. “No,” she pauses. “Not tonight. They have other business.”

 

“Why didn’t you go with them?” I ask.

 

“I thought you might need me more.” Natasha is on her feet, pulling a thin cigarette from the pack she keeps in her back pocket. “I’m going for a smoke.”

 

Just like that, she leaves the room before I can respond.

 

Liar.

 

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to empty the dizzying thoughts that whirl around my head. I must be stronger. I must be smarter. I must protect Emma, no matter what.

 

This isn’t good, this isn’t healthy, and this is certainly no place for my little sister.

 

Or my baby.

 

I stand up slowly and lock the door, catching my reflection in the grand mirror beside it over the carved console. I gaze at my frightened expression and contemplate everything happening in my life.

 

I used to simply be going along and marking time until I was suddenly dragged into his world.

 

My face twists in anger, and I slap the mirror as if I’m slapping myself. It vibrates but doesn’t fall off the wall. I raise my fist to give it another blow, but hesitate as I stare at the hatred reflecting back at me.

 

I could be what Andrei wants, but can I live with it?

 

Lowering my hand, I sigh and shake the anger off. Everything is confusing and infuriating. I care about Andrei, but I’m also terrified of him. It seems like no matter what I do, I just can’t win.

 

If Andrei had told me he loved me last night, I wouldn’t be doubting myself today. I’m in over my head, and I can never get out if Andrei doesn’t send me away.

 

But I’m determined to do whatever it takes to keep my baby and my sister safe. That’s the one thing I’m sure I have to do. My father—he’s on his own. I think about our conversation. How his sickness made him say things to hurt me, things that make me wonder if I’m a good person.

 

How can I be when he’s the one who raised me?

 

Maybe I do belong here in this cruel world. Maybe my destiny was always to be Andrei’s wife.

 

I look at my reflection one last time and then turn away. No matter what happens, I’ll stay strong. I’ll keep Emma safe, and I’ll keep my baby safe. They are the only people that matter now. I won’t let Andrei or anyone else drag either of them into the Bratva.

 

And just then, a plan enters my mind. Like an answer to my prayers, I see a way out.