Deceitful Vows by Brook Wilder

 

Chapter 27

Paige

 

I wake up late today and peer out the window at the sun already high in the sky. I get dressed quickly, wearing my usual jeans and T-shirt. Despite their humble appearance, I know the clothes I’m wearing could easily pay for Dad’s chemo.

 

I try not to think about home, even though I do all the time that I’m not being teased by Andrei.

 

Natasha will have to smoke alone this morning. I hear Andrei’s voice coming from downstairs. My body is on high alert as I walk down the hallway that connects the west wing to the east. Every time I know he’s around, I can feel my pussy give me a nudge in his direction.

 

There has to be a way to make him fuck me. He’s interested. I just don’t know what gets him to tick.

 

I stop at the stairs leading down and see Andrei standing outside his office door. I’m almost in shock. The smug smirk on his face is gone, and instead there’s a huge smile.

 

Is he … happy? He’s never happy. He’s too smug to be happy!

 

I move toward the top step, and that’s when my breath catches in my throat.

 

There’s a woman by his side. Young, beautiful, and blonde—the trifecta of good looks. And her body … she looks like she just stepped off a runway with a custom-fitted dress. She places her hand on his arm, and though she’s wearing heels, she lifts up onto her toes and kisses his cheek.

 

Anger and jealousy rush through me at the sight, and I’m staring helplessly again.

 

You bastard, Andrei.My hands ball into fists, but I say nothing. I want to look away, but I can’t.

 

The woman giggles and then walks toward the room leading out to the terrace. I saw him on the same terrace when he brought me here with that screaming woman. A million thoughts race through my mind.

 

Is that where he entertains? Far away from me, so I don’t know what’s going on? No wonder he can go without sex. My mind goes dark as I see Tim again, lying across our bed with Carole’s big mouth latched onto his dick.

 

I feel like an idiot as my feet carry me down the steps, so fast that I almost trip on the last one. Andrei looks over and frowns. He frowns a lot when he looks at me. Or he smirks.

 

But with her? He smiles at her. I bet he has no problem fucking her.

 

I fold my arms over my chest. “Who the fuck was that?”

 

Andrei’s look of alarm dissolves into boredom. “No one you will meet.”

 

The coldness of his response feels worse than a punch to the gut.

 

“Why? Is she your friend?” I ask, fighting to keep the tears from welling up in my eyes. I shouldn’t care who else he sleeps with. After all, this is all fake, right? And if it’s all fake, then why should I care?

 

But I do, and I hate it.

 

The frown on his face doesn’t fade. “I told you, Paige. My business is nothing that concerns you.”

 

He opens his office door, but I grab him, gripping his suit jacket with my nails.

 

“If you didn’t have a private army in the house,” I snarl, “there would be no way you could keep me here.” I tug tighter. “Haven’t you humiliated me enough? Who is she? I’m not putting up with this. Is she the one you were always going to marry?”

 

Andrei grabs me with one hand, pivots me into his office, and shuts the office door. I wrench myself out of his grasp and shake his hands off me.

 

“This marriage may be fake,” I say. “But you will respect me. You cannot run around on me like this. I will not be made a fool of! You piece of shit!”

 

Laughter rises out of his throat as he shakes his head.

 

I can’t hold the tears back anymore and the world goes blurry. I reach out and try to slap his face, but he’s too fast and too strong. He lazily catches me in his arms and pins my arms to my side, pressing my body against the edge of his desk with his own.

 

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. My body begins to heat up from our proximity. My shoulders sag as tears start falling. Why do I still want this man? He only knows how to hurt.

 

His lips lower and brush my eyelids, kissing the tears away.

 

“She’s my sister, Paige,” he whispers. “My half-sister—Eva’s daughter Sonya.”

 

“Liar.” Staring into his eyes, my misery won’t allow me to believe him. I’ve been tricked before. “She looks nothing like you. She’s blonde and petite. You’re lying.”

 

He lets me go and taps his phone. “Send my mother to my office.”

 

My fury loses steam as I hug my sides. I won’t look at him, but my ears are attentive. I pretend to take an interest in the carpet under my feet. There’s a slight tap on the door, and Eva enters with a smile. But her smile falters as she quickly reads the room. Of course … the two of us, fighting in this room. It must be déjà vu to her. I approach Eva and give her a quick but heartfelt hug.

 

“It’s good to see you this morning.” I fake happiness despite my eyes shining.

 

She smiles again. “It is a big house, but you are always invited to spend time with me.”

 

I smile again, my anger slipping a notch when there’s another knock on the door. The beautiful blonde enters and immediately goes to Eva.

 

“Mama! There you are.” She tightly hugs Eva, while Eva closes her eyes and holds her. “Shall we have brunch on the terrace?”

 

“Yes, Sonichka.” She holds her daughter’s hand in hers as her face breaks into a beaming smile. “Tell me, have you looked into schools yet?”

 

Their conversation is muffled as the door shuts behind them, leaving me alone with my fake husband—the husband that I was so certain was cheating on me a few moments ago. I take in deep breaths as tears prick my eyes.

 

Jealousy remains but now it has a different source.

 

At the wedding, Eva held my hand and spoke sweetly to me. But now that her real daughter is here, I’m forgotten.

 

I’m being silly and petulant, but the hurt is real. Emotions surface quickly to the top, and there’s nothing I can do to hide them.

 

I turn my back on Andrei.

 

“Are you okay?” he asks softly.

 

I’m not used to him expressing concern, so I just stare at him.

 

Andrei asks again, “What is on your mind?”

 

“Nothing you need to know.”

 

“Paige,” he asks, his tone insistent but not demanding.

 

The emotions overtake me as I become unsteady on my feet. Then the words pour out all at once.

 

“I’ve been gone for weeks now, and there’s been no contact with my family. I want to know they’re okay. My father needs me, and my sister needs me as well. I can’t just disappear like this. I have to call home.” I look back at him. “Please.”

 

Finally, I beg. But not for the thing he wants.

 

He looks away, averting his gaze from the desperate look in my eyes. “I can’t let you leave. But I can bring your family here.”

 

“No!” That part comes without thinking, but it takes time for me to find the right words for what comes next after the shock subsides. “I can’t let my family know that I’m married to a criminal. It would break my father’s heart.”

 

His expression turns to stone, and I wish I hadn’t called him a criminal. He’s silent as he watches me and I’m uncertain what will happen next.

 

Will he retaliate because I told the truth?

 

But there’s no avoiding the truth. He is a criminal, whose business I’m never privy to.

 

“I’m sorry.” I try my best to sound humble. “But my father taught us differently than yours.” That sounds worse and I go back to begging again. “My father is ill, and my sister is too young to look after him. Not knowing where I am has made things worse. I’m sure of it. Please.”

 

His only response is to shake his head.

 

I have to sit down, and I hit the couch with a dull thud. He sits beside me, but I swing my legs away from him. I ignore that he is there.

 

“I can take care of your family,” he says. “So that they will want for nothing.”

 

I’m instantly suspicious of his offer.

 

“And then what? We’ll always be indebted to the Barinov Bratva?”

 

I’m careful this time not to ask how many poor families between here and Twin Rivers are indebted in exactly this type of generosity. How many men became his soldiers to pay off that debt, possibly leaving widows and orphans behind?

 

“It will come through a charity, a legitimate one that has always stayed clean,” he replies. “I assume your father is on disability?”

 

I nod.

 

“Then he must have a social worker.”

 

I nod again. “They’re loaded down with cases.”

 

“We will hire a private social worker to help your family, and money will be given to them. No strings attached. You are legally my wife, so I am helping my wife’s family.”

 

The tension drains from my body but not quite entirely. It’s a good compromise, but something leaves me uneasy still. Andrei always has a motive. He has something to prove, even in bed. Something else must be happening.

 

An expression flits over his face—one that I can’t exactly pinpoint before it’s gone. But whatever it is that I just saw, I know he’s not about to tell me, even if I ask.

 

He moves closer and softens his tone. “Why only your father and your sister, Paige? Why not your mother?”

 

His question catches me by surprise. A memory floods my mind and I can’t speak. The bitterness is as fresh as if it had only happened that day. I see myself as a little girl again, crying in that filthy kitchen as I held onto Emma, who didn’t understand why Mommy and Daddy were so angry. She asked me if she had done something wrong.

 

That was the last argument of many before their inevitable divorce.

 

My mother’s hate made Dad sick.

 

And then, another image rushes to my mind. The way Eva held her daughter’s hand. Oh, what I would give for that same gesture from my mother. But she has never once contacted us since the divorce.

 

Not a visit. Not even a letter.

 

But Andrei has no right to know any of this. So, my back straightens and my tone turns calm.

 

“You have your secrets, Andrei,” I tell him evenly. “And I have mine.”