Deceitful Lies by Brook Wilder
Chapter 34
Paige
Andrei is always home before one in the morning, and I always know when he’s back by the subtle noises in the house—the hushed voices and the soft footsteps of his guards as they enter the mansion. And I know that Andrei always looks in on me, even if he sleeps in another room.
At first, I thought it was to make sure I hadn’t run away, but one night, he touched me. He didn’t know I was awake, and his fingers grazed my cheek, brushing my hair back. I waited for him to climb into our bed, but after a few seconds, the door clicked shut and he was gone.
Tonight, everything is off. I feel it deep in my gut that something is wrong. Andrei isn’t petty—he doesn’t have time for that passive-aggressive nonsense. He wouldn’t stay out all night to vex me.
No. Something is wrong.
I open the door of our suite and listen to the movement below me. It sounds as if the whole house is up and my first thought is panic, but I fight it back.
I am the pakhan’s wife, and I told Andrei I’d look after affairs at home. I hurry back into the bedroom and dress appropriately in the uniform of a Bratva wife—a Victoria Beckham wrap dress, ridiculously expensive Prada pumps, and Tiffany diamonds—before going downstairs.
“Paige?” Emma stands in her doorway, peeking out. “What’s going on?”
I place my hand on her shoulder, pushing her gently back into her room. “Nothing. Lock the door and wait for me.”
Emma frowns with doubt but does as I tell her. My family is safe. Now to check on my husband.
Vanya and Natasha stop speaking and watch me as I descend the grand stairs. My head held high, I approach them with confidence. I don’t dare ask what is happening. I pretend to know. “I’ll be in my husband’s office. Tell him I’m there.”
I know little about Vanya other than the fact that he is from Twin Rivers, and his grandparents were immigrants. He lacks the roughness of the other guards; his light brown hair and hazel eyes are closer to a college kid’s than a killer’s.
He nods. He’s only known me as Andrei’s wife, not his captive.
I pace the floor of Andrei’s office, waiting for him to come home. I pick at my nail polish, ruining another costly manicure as footsteps pass the door and continue down the hall. The sound of gravel crunching under tires sends me out into the hallway and hurrying into the living room. I peer out an unlit window and my skin cools with relief. Andrei’s Lamborghini is in the drive.
I hurry toward the front door. I don’t care if I look like a clinging wife. I’ll throw my arms around his neck and tell him how much I missed him. No more of this sullen bullshit, waiting for the other one to crack and spill their feelings. But Vanya’s hand grabs the doorknob first, preventing me from swinging it open.
“Please, Paige Geraldovna. Allow me to check first.”
My frustration comes out in a whine. “It’s my husband’s car.”
Vanya doesn’t budge, silently obeying my husband’s unspoken orders. He knows what Andrei would expect, despite what I want.
I calm myself down and return to the window, peering through a space between the heavy drapes. I look at the car again—it’s electric blue, not silver. And a woman gets out of the driver’s side. Her silhouette is tall and lean as the spotlights suddenly flood the drive. I recognize that walk. Talia swings her long dark hair before she confidently climbs the steps to the front door balanced on sky-high heels.
My agitated gaze connects with Vanya’s before he opens the door. “Let her in. Bring her into my husband’s office.”
I scurry behind Andrei’s desk as if it’s a fortress of stone. I listen as the front door opens, and voices rise into heated words. Talia steps in the office doorway with Vanya close behind her. She tries to step forward, but Natasha appears in a flash and grips Talia’s shoulder, stopping her on the spot.
“Dobriy noch, Natasha,” Talia purrs, but she watches me. “So nice to see you again.”
Natasha doesn’t answer and checks Talia’s tiny purse. Expressionless, she hands it to Vanya to check again. Natasha kneels in front of Talia and pats her down in her tight spandex catsuit.
Talia laughs. “Careful, girl. You don’t want me to get excited. Or I’ll expect you to use your tongue.”
Natasha ignores the crass jibe and hurls a subtle one of her own. “No weapons, Mrs. Barinov. Shall I call for extra security?”
Talia scowls at her. “Watch your mouth, bitch.”
I force myself not to fidget or play with my jewelry. I want to run at her, beating Talia as my guards watch. Yes, my guards, not hers. But there’s a sliver of fear in my body as Talia eyes me like a shark.
I toss my hair before I sit down gracefully in Andrei’s chair. “Thank you, Natasha. Stay with me and watch her. If she so much as twitches in the wrong direction, shoot her.”
I’m no threat to her, but I won’t hand her control over the situation. Talia laughs as if I’m playing make-believe. She doesn’t know me anymore. Not after what she’s done. She’s changed me, and I’ll prove it.
“I’m carrying no weapons, silly girl.” She spins in a circle, showing off her toned figure in an outfit tighter than skin. Her heels are a glossy patent leather, and her jeweled bag bumps against her hip as she enters the room. “Where would I hide a gun?”
Natasha shadows Talia as two more guards stand by the open door. Talia sits down on the couch, crossing her legs, acting like an invited guest.
“He’s changed the furniture since the last time I was here. Eva must have picked it out.” Her gaze flicks over my outfit. “She has taste.”
“The last time you were here?” I scoff. “You mean when you were dragged, kicking and screaming, all the way to the front gate.”
“Is Andrushka here?” She leans back, pushing out her chest. “Or does he spend the evenings with his whores?”
“Why are you here?” I ask. “You didn’t drive here in the middle of the night to make weak insults.”
“I came to return your husband’s car,” she replies casually. “You left it behind.”
I smile. “Keep it, Talia. It’s your prize for coming in second place.”
She smiles harder. “You might want to bury him in it, Paige. If tonight goes as planned, you’ll be a widow by morning.”
“Fooling me once was easy. But if you think you can do it again, then that makes you the bigger fool.” I rise from the desk and stand in front of her. “I’m bored with your empty threats. You can walk out on your own, or I’ll hold the door open while my guards toss you out.”
Talia nods approvingly, a grin on her lips. “Good, you sound convincing. I taught you well.”
“You taught me nothing.”
“You’re no longer silly and frightened,” she says, then faces Natasha. “You should have seen this one. Throwing up and crying whenever she saw a drop of blood. Not much of a pakhan’s wife, I’m afraid.”
I tower over her. “According to you, I won’t be one by morning—Why would you want Andrei dead when you want him back so desperately?”
Talia flinches, but covers her reaction quickly by taking a cigarette from her purse. She holds it in her lips, waiting for a light. She watches Natasha, who looks to me. I hold out my hand. Natasha places her lighter in it, and I light Talia’s cigarette myself.
A thin line of smoke leaves her lips aimed at me. “I heard a rumor that you’re pregnant. Is it one of the guards’?”
“It’s my husband’s,” I reply, stepping away. “He fucks me many times every day. He can be determined when he wants something.”
Talia frowns, throwing her lit cigarette on the carpet. “Do you think he wants that bastard in your belly? Your wedding was a fake, and it still is. You’re here for a reason and when he’s done, you’ll be out. Nothing in your life is real except the fact that he’s using you. No one wants that hideous baby you’re carrying. Save your figure and get rid of it now. I know someone.”
I step on the cigarette, crushing it under my foot. Talia has won this round as her words finally strike me. I nod to Natasha, who grabs Talia by the shoulders and pins her in place. I light the lighter, bringing it close to Talia’s long hair until a strand flickers on fire.
“Threaten my baby again, and I will burn you bald.”
Talia kicks out her leg, grazing my knee. I drop the lighter in her lap, where Natasha swipes it onto the floor and kicks it away.
“You learn fast,” Talia smirks. “But you’re still way behind.”
“Remove her.” I do my best to keep myself from shouting, but my voice rises in spite of the attempt.
Talia moves quickly, twisting out of Natasha’s grip. “I enjoy our talks, Paige. Let’s not be strangers.”
Outside of the office, Bratva guards are lining the hallway on both sides, and we walk between them. I walk behind Talia and herd her to the front door, wondering how much they heard. It doesn’t matter. I’m the one who belongs, but for how much longer? My resolve wavers again and I silently curse myself. I know it’s right to leave, but not now. I stand on the front step as the Lamborghini pulls out of the driveway. The gates open automatically; they must respond to his car. Talia can enter anytime she likes.
Natasha glances at her phone. “We must go upstairs, Paige Geraldovna.”
“What’s happened? Where is Andrei?”
She doesn’t answer my questions. “We must keep you safe.”
Guards start running through the mansion. Windows are checked and bolted, doors are locked, inside lights are dimmed, and spotlights in the trees illuminate the entire yard as if the sun is rising.
Natasha tugs me toward a closet in the back of the mansion. I never gave it much thought before. My knees buckle as the panel moves, revealing the hidden staircase.
“Where’s Andrei?” I try to run for the front door, but Vanya catches me easily in his arms and carries me up the stairs.
“No!” I pound my fists on his chest as tears well up in my eyes. “Tell me where my husband is!”
***
“We’ll wait in the panic room.” Vanya stands inside the suite by a door I’ve never entered, though I knew it existed. I move away from him as if he wants to lock me away.
I lift my chin, but my voice shakes. “I’ll wait in the spare bedroom.”
Natasha silences Vanya when he tries again. She guides him out of the suite and shuts the door. I know they won’t go far. I told the guards not to move my father, not out of spite, but because he’s too frail. And Emma decides to sit with me by the window. Her body isn’t sprawled across the straight-back chair. She sits upright, leaning toward the glass until her nose almost touches it. She’s not waiting for Andrei but watching for Viktor.
I’m scared Talia wasn’t lying.
“You saw me, didn’t you?” I ask her. As Talia and I left the office earlier, I saw movement from the corner of my eye on the staircase. I didn’t dare turn to look, but whoever it was, they hurried out of sight.
Emma stares out the window, not daring to turn her head, not even a little. “Yes,” she whispers.
“Do you believe me now?” I ask, refusing to acknowledge the questions she must have.
I watch Emma’s reflection nod solemnly in the window. She doesn’t speak as her eyes search the darkness for him. I watch too, hoping for Andrei’s return. It would solve everything if he were dead.
I would be a wealthy widow. But I don’t want that.
The thought is too awful to even think. I want my freedom on my terms and not anyone else’s. I want to know Andrei exists somewhere, even if I never see him again.
“Do you understand now that we have to leave?” I ask quietly.
Emma has yet to look at me. Instead, she looks at her hands when she answers. “I can’t.”
Before I can respond, headlights sweep across the trees as Andrei’s Lamborghini turns and enters the garage. The relief I feel makes my shoulders slump as if I’ve been holding my breath. Emma jumps up from her chair and runs for the door, heading out of the small bedroom.
“Emma!” I shout. “Why don’t you understand?”
“I do understand, Paige.” The look on her face convinces me. “But I don’t want to leave here with you.”
