Page 130 of Deceitful Vows

Their incensed rise is fully deflated when their stare down is interrupted by Bayli answering his ringing phone.

“Boss?” His eyes flick up to Aleena for the briefest second before he says, “On my way now.”

Despite his cocky wink, you can tell he’s hesitant to leave. It takes several long seconds for him to jog to the elevator, and he maintains eye contact with Aleena until the brushed steel doors snap shut.

I give Aleena some time to absorb the barrage of emotions hammering her before striving to ease it. “Would you like to take a seat?”

She shakes her head while twisting to face me. I can’t read her as easily as I can Nikita, so her apology shocks me. “I’m so sorry. When he left with you and then disappeared, I assumed what she’d told me for years was the truth.” She grips my arm as tears flood her eyes. “I should have never listened to her. I’m so sorry, Zoya.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

After guiding her to a booth in the corner of the foyer, I gesture for her to slip in first before I slot in behind her. She is shuddering too much to remain standing.

She stares into space for what feels like an eternity before murmuring, “What else has she lied about? How many lies has she told me?” Her drenched eyes lower to me. “How many lies has she told me about you?”

“I don’t know,” I reply, being honest. “But there’s a way we can find out.” I pull down the long sleeve on the jersey dress Andrik left for me, before running it across her cheeks, clearing her tears. “Ask me anything you want to know, anything at all, and I will tell you the truth. I promise.”

After another brief stint of silence, she commences her interrogation.

It doesn’t start where I expect. “Do you love the man you were with this afternoon?”

Since I pledged to be honest, I can only answer one way. “Yes.”

49

ANDRIK

My blood boils when a voice at the side says, “Whatever you’re thinking about doing, I beg you to stop this madness now before it is too late.”

I continue watching my grandfather’s fleet of SUVs glide down the driveway of my home, before spinning to face the voice. My father looks disheveled, like he’s battling more than the demons of his past. Dark circles plague his eyes, and his shirt is crumpled. He looks like shit, but it does little to weaken my determination.

I have permission to pick, and the verdict will only ever land one way.

Zoya Galdean is mine.

Anoushka moves out from the alcove when I lock my eyes with hers. She’s not snooping. She merely makes sure she is available to assist no matter the hour.

“Pack Arabella’s and Dina’s things, and then have them escorted out by security.”

“Andrik—”

“Don’t,” I snap out, turning to face my father. “Don’t act like you care, that you’veevercared, or I may be tempted to forget whose blood runs through my veins.”

He steps up to me like my gun isn’t on my hip. “Do you think I want to live like this? That I didn’t try to fight the system too? I’ve loved and lost. Fought and hated. I dideverythingyou have done, and I still lost. Your mother?—”

“Was constantly embarrassedby you! Disrespectedby you. You didn’t love and cherish her. You threw her away as if she were a broken toy the instant something new and shiny was placed in front of you!”

He chokes on a sob, like my words truly pain him. “I fought with the same tenacity as you, the same grit, but the outcome never altered.” The sheer remorse in his tone sees the needle going in the opposite direction for the first time tonight. “So not just as your father, but a man who has also losteverything, I am begging you to accept your fate before it is too late.”

“My fate is with Zoya. My life is with her. She is whoIpick.”

“Then kiss your life goodbye, along with your son’s,” he snarls through gritted teeth.

Over being constantly manipulated, I yank my gun out of its holster, pin my father to the wall by his throat, then almost singe a hole in his temple with a bullet.

Only almost because I don’t want my son to see this side of me, and although Anoushka is quick to pull him away from me like she did me from my mother thirty years ago, he is too close to miss the death of his grandfather.

“My mother?—”

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