Page 9 of Cruel Vows


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“I don’t—” I take a deep breath. “There isn’t anyone else.”

There’s that cruel laugh. The one he’d given me when I asked to attend Ada’s funeral. It is cold, freezing like the tundra. I can feel the hope in my chest sinking like the Titanic after it hit that stupid iceberg. Without his help, I would drown in the icy depths of what my family left behind.

“What about your fiancé?” His brow raises in question. I can feel the blood drain from my face. “Peter Spiridakos, if I’m not mistaken.”

I remain quiet.

“You two are quite the power couple.” He smirks. “Two reigning Greek mafia families merging through marriage is a power move not many expected.” He pauses. “Especially since up until a few years ago you were all cutting each other’s throats in the streets.”

My jaw clenches as bile rises, burning through my chest and up my throat. Shit, it is hot in here.

“You can’t—” I stumble over my words. Why can’t I breathe?

“Can’t what?” he mocks disdainfully. “Tell me, little mouse. Why did you run into the viper’s nest instead of the safety of another mouse?”

I couldn’t run to Peter. I wouldn’t.

“He could have been the one to put the hit on us,” I manage to get the words out fairly calmly. His dubious expression says he doesn’t believe a word I just said.

“You really shouldn’t lie, mouse,” he tuts. “I’m not,” I snapped, moving my hands beneath the sheet so he wouldn’t see them trembling. If he hands me over to Peter, I am a deep-fried Thanksgiving turkey with all the fixings. Myfiancéis not a kind man, but that hadn’t mattered to my father. What mattered was the army Peter brought with him from Greece. The one he planned on using to take down Adrian and the Sovereign Brotherhood.

“Touchy. Touchy.” His smirk deepens. “It appears that not everything is perfect in paradise, hmm. Is he that terrible in bed, little mouse?” He steps toward the bed, pupils dilating as he licks his luscious lips like a predator ready to devour its next meal.

Luscious?

Fuck no.

Delicious.

Shit, not delicious.Notdelicious.

Damn that part of my brain that just, straight up, reads porn. Now I’m romanticizing the man I hate. The one who let my best friend die. He took the one thing that mattered most to me in the world and stomped out her light.

“Does he make you feel dirty things between those thick, lush thighs of yours?” he croons at me. Adrian places his knee on the edge of the bed and leans over me, one hand braced above me on the headboard. “Do you play with yourself at night? Run those fingers over that plump little clit of yours while you think sordid thoughts of him?”

Yeah, definitely not.

“My sex life is none of your business,” I hiss, shifting away from his closeness. Another dark smirk.

“Can’t be that good if it’s not worth sharing.” He shrugs a shoulder. “Oh, well. Guess I’ll just have him come pick up the garbage.”

I wince at the last word.Garbage.Isn’t the first time I’ve been called that by a man.

“You can’t,” I tell him urgently.

“Can’t what?” He tilts his head slightly. “Call him? I assure you I can, and I will.”

“And if he’s the one that called the hit?”

Adrian snorts derisively. “By marrying you and sinking his dick into your mousy little cunt, he would have been handed the keys to your entire empire with no one batting an eye,” he tells me. “Why would he go through all the trouble of killing your entire family, including all the staff? It wouldn’t have benefited him to lose all of those soldiers.”

The man has a point.

Still, if he hands me over to Peter, my life is over. I’d slit my own throat before I let that man have me. My father had seen the docile, meek daughter he’d forced into submission. What he hadn’t seen was the planning and the plotting beneath the surface. The first time Peter had hit me, I’d gone to him. Know what he told me? If I hadn’t upset him, he wouldn’t feel the need to keep me in line.

My own father.

It was at that moment that I knew I’d made a grave mistake. That everything I’d been told had been true. The rose-colored glasses had shattered, and all I was left with was guilt and regret for what I had done.

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