Deceitful Vows by Brook Wilder
Chapter 32
Andrei
Paige smiles as she sits beside me in the front seat. When we left the house, she immediately walked over to the Rover’s back door. Three Rovers tail us to the restaurant.
If I was alone, I would take the risk of driving around Twin Rivers in my Lamborghini and blast music along the waterfront: let Igor’s men see that I’m not scared. Not even bothered.
But not when I’m with her.
I pull the car into the parking lot and frown when I see the other jeeps. Judging by the parking lot, it looks like a Bratva convention. For a moment, I consider going elsewhere. But Paige makes a noise of delight and I turn off the engine.
“I’ve always wondered what this place looked like inside.” She slips her arm into mine and looks up, her face tinged with a fading blush.
I hold open the door to Flour & Sauce, and Paige steps in, her chin lifted high without shame or apology.
“Is this our first official date?” she turns back to ask, smirking.
“The first of many,” I reply.
She looks incredible in a knit dress and heels that show off her figure. The new clothes give her newfound confidence, and she moves like she’s made to wear them.
The host smiles when he sees us. “Welcome, Andrei Vasilyevich. And Mrs. Barinov.”
The wedding attracted no attention, but it seems that our marriage did.
“Thank you,” Paige beams, and something rattles me. Something is different about her. I want her to accept the Bratva, but maybe she’s taking it in all too quickly. The thought quickly perishes as I watch Paige’s ass sway with each step she takes to the table.
Employees scurry out of our path, and the same attentive host ushers us toward the back to a private room. I barely hear him, my eyes focused on the bounce in Paige’s step. She halts in front of a door and waits for it to be opened.
The room looks out over the main floor of the restaurant. Tinted glass separates us from the rest of the diners and affords us total privacy. There are other rooms just like it circling the perimeter. I get up and check for Igor’s men. I know them by sight, and they know me. When I don’t recognize any of their faces, I give my men a slight nod, and they return the gesture while they continue to watch discreetly from a distance.
I smile at Paige as she slowly removes her coat. “This room is soundproof, and no one can see in.”
Paige smiles nervously, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. “Maybe after dessert?”
“You are the dessert.” I lean in for a kiss. My concerns are silenced as our lips press together.
I reach into my jacket and she watches intently, a passive expression on her face. She used to shudder, thinking I was reaching for my gun. But tonight, I pull out something different from my pocket and place it on the table.
She looks at the box quizzically and then back at me.
“This is for you, moya nevesta.”
She reaches for the box and opens it, and squeals in delight when she sees the diamond earrings inside. But I don’t sit down at the table with her.
“Is everything all right?” Her gaze drifts to the door and then she frowns, wary of who else might show up uninvited.
“Everything is fine.” I take her hand and kiss it. Pausing with her warmth against my skin. “I need to select the wine myself.”
“Why?” she asks coquettishly. “Is it a special occasion?”
“Of course,” I smirk. “You were almost ready to beg. I think that deserves something celebratory, don’t you?”
Before she can muster up a response, I step out into the hallway and motion to the sommelier. The man nods and beckons me to follow. As I do, Dmitri’s words come back to me in full force.
Why am I still fighting my father’s war? My plan to be my own man has only brought his enemies to my door. But then the memory of the wedding returns, and so does the image of a man aiming a gun at Paige.
Like it or not, my father’s war is mine, and my war has become Paige’s as well. And then there’s the enigma of Gerald Reyes. Who is he, really? What else am I missing?
Second-guessing will kill a man faster than fear. I button my jacket as the sommelier unlocks the door to the wine cellar.
For a moment, I wonder if it is wise to leave Paige alone. But she isn’t alone. My men are crawling through this place. They outnumber the waitstaff. She’ll be safe for these moments alone.
She may be new to the Bratva, but she’s born to be one of us.
