Page 131 of Deceitful Vows

“Was not the woman you think she was.” Speaking in pretense already pisses me off, so I won’t mention how potent my blood becomes when he adds, “She fooled us all.” He uses my quick check of Zakhar’s location to his advantage. “This is not a battle you will win without losing everyone you’ve ever cared about. Including Zoya Dokovic.”

I inch in the trigger further. I don’t want him to speak Zoya’s name, let alone associate it with that surname. Even when we wed, she won’t take that name. We will create a new surname, one as noble and respected as I had planned to return to my family’s before he made the task impossible.

Bile burns my throat when he says, “Why do you think he was so quick to say yes?” His eyes flick in the direction his father just walked. “They want a pure bloodline, and you and Zoya will give them that.” I almost turn the gun on myself when he says, “Sibling marriage was historically practiced amongst royalty through pre-colonial times. If you go through withhisplan, it will become modernized.”

“You’re lying!”

“No,” he instantly denies, shaking his head so firmly the wetness in his eyes almost trickles out. “Zoya is your blood relation.” His eyes bounce between mine, full of honesty and shame. “That’s why you’re so compelled to protect her.” As the barrel of my gun scalds his temple from the fury racing through my veins, he stammers out, “I didn’t want to believe it either, but you can’t deny DNA.”

I tighten my grip on his throat when he squirms. He’s not running. He is digging for his wallet. I’m just too worked up not to respond negatively. I want to kill. I want to maim. There’s just no guarantee my first victim won’t be me.

My jaw firms when he pulls a faded photograph of a blonde woman out of his wallet.

My mother was brunette.

“This is Mikhail’s mother.” The image of Mikhail’s mother holding a strip of ultrasound pictures rattles when he moves it closer. “Look at her face, Andrik. Her features.” He releases a solidary word with a hot breath. “Identical.”

He’s not speaking about similarities between Mikhail and his mother. He is highlighting how alike Zoya and his second wife are. Since Stasy is at the age Zoya is now, they could be mistaken as sisters.

He hopes I’m already over the fence, but just in case, he drags me over a little more. “Now look at the dates in the photo and when it was taken.”

My stomach heaves when the hundreds of calculations I run through my head after doing as instructed all provide the same result.

Stasy was five months pregnant with a daughter four months before Zoya was born. Her due date was a mere seven days before Zoya’s birthday.

I fight the heaves of my stomach when my father hammers the final nail into my coffin. “I ran a sample of Zoya’s DNA against Stasy’s that was already in the system.”

You can’t marry a Dokovic without submitting your DNA to the federation’s database, so his claim that Stasy’s DNA was in their system is legitimate.

I feel like I am sucker punched when he says, “It was a match. Zoya is your half-sister. Her DNA proves it.”

With a roar of a wounded man, I redirect my gun and fire simultaneously until all the bullets in the chamber are dispersed and I am certain I am dead.

50

ZOYA

“I’m getting married!”

I step back, stunned. My hearing must be playing tricks on me because there is no way those words just came out of Nikita’s mouth. She is as straight as an arrow. The only responsible one of our duo. She wouldn’t marry someone she’s been dating for six months, so a stranger doesn’t stand a chance.

“Can you believe it?” She walks straighter than Aleena did when I chaperoned her walk to her room several floors down, her gorgeous lace gown swishing against her thighs.

Aleena needed time to decompartmentalize everything we had discussed, and since I was just as eager for a debrief, I didn’t fight her wish for some downtime.

“I guess your ploy worked.” When she leans in, I don’t smell any alcohol on her breath. “A bikini competition was all that was needed for him to pull his head out of his ass.”

Before I can respond, a doorbell buzzes.

Nikita’s eyes pop before she strays them back to Maksim, who’s standing at the side of the living room, looking a cross between coy and frustrated. “That’ll be the event coordinator to set up the aisle.”

“You’re getting marriednow?”

She nods, smiles brightly, then bolts for the door to let in her late-night guests.

“Keet… I don’t think this is a good idea. You hardly know this man.” I twist to face Maksim. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he replies, stepping closer. “But we both agree that this is the best way we can move forward.”

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