Page 163 of Deceitful Vows

My groggy eyes slowly open when I hear car doors slamming shut and footsteps. Waking up in a strange environment sucks. It takes me a moment to gather my bearings, and when I do, it adds a ton of pressure onto my chest instead of alleviating it.

I didn’t catch the name of the middle-aged man who drove me here after farewelling Nikita and Maksim in the empty reception area. The guests piled out soon after Andrik, and I’ve been left to navigate my new title and surroundings by myself.

I didn’t recognize the names of the towns we drove through during our long journey to Andrik’s new home base. They ranged in sizes and wealth status, but Andrik’s home can only be described one way—cold.

There is no love in his house, no joy, and the conditions worsen when I discover the reason I was jolted awake. Andrik has returned home. He isn’t alone. The little boy I assume is his son is cradled in his arms. He’s as white as a bed sheet and looks deathly sick.

“Should he be out of bed already?” I follow Andrik through his palatial mansion when hepfftsat my question before he storms away. “Why isn’t he still in the hospital?”

I assumed that was why I was brought to this location, because it was closer to the hospital doing Zakhar’s heart transplant.

After Andrik places Zakhar on a bed and gestures for a doctor in the corner of his room to move closer to his bedside, he mutters, “Because you were nottheirpick, my son has to suffer until you have proven yourself worthy of their selection.”

“What?” A better response is above me. I didn’t realize this was a popularity contest. I thought the only requirement was for Andrik to marry. That’s why I took Aleena’s place.

When I say that to Andrik, he storms up close to me. More than alcohol bounds off his breath when he shouts in my face. Death is there too. “He had a heart! It was right there, in the operating room, waiting for him! Buttheygot word to the surgeon first, and he stupidly believed their wrath would be worse than mine.” When he flexes and unflexes his hands, I notice droplets of blood on the cuffs of his dress shirt he hasn’t changed since we exchanged vows. “It wasn’t.”

A chill runs down my spine, shocked he can speak about murder without the slightest bit of remorse. It only lingers as long as it takes for me to lock eyes with Zakhar. He isn’t my child, but I would still burn down the world for him. Every adult should do the same.

“Tell me what to do to fix this. I’ll do anything you ask.”

Andrik’s laugh is as painful as it is sadistic. “The only way you can fix this is by going back twenty-eight years and praying your philandering absentee father keeps his dick in his pants.”

I slap him before I can consider the consequences of my actions. Andrik’s reaction is just as reckless. He pins me to the wall by my throat quicker than my lungs can be replenished with what I am confident will be my last breath.

It isn’t a sexy hold this time around, nor lusty. It is the grip of a killer who was on the brink of breaking before I pushed him over the edge.

When my nostrils flare, my body too eager to live to surrender without a fight, Andrik’s massively dilated eyes lower to my nose before they drop half an inch lower.

He stares at my lips for what feels like an eternity before his hold eventually loosens enough for me to suck in some miniscule breaths. He isn’t pulling back. He just can’t maintain the hold he needs to kill me and run his thumb over my lips at the same time. Hurting me while caressing me simultaneously isn’t a skill he seems to hold.

The gentleness of his embrace doesn’t match the fury beaming from him. His body is shaking enough for its shudder to be felt from a distance, but the way he strokes my lips is almost nurturing.Loving.

His actions don’t make any sense.

He hates me as much as I am growing to hate him, doesn’t he?

Too bewildered not to seek answers, I murmur, “Andrik?—"

One mutter of his name snaps him out of his trance as quickly as his anger swamped him with it. His pupils enlarge to the size of saucers before they’re stolen from my view by him throwing his fist into the drywall at the side of my head before he quickly exits the room.

I take off after him, too angry and confused to let this go.

“Your original contract said you wanted an heir!” I thrust my hand at the room we just left. “You have one, so I assumed the only requirement today was a wife.Anywife.”

“You assumed wrong!” he roars, spinning to face me.

“As did you when you pickedmysister.” My wild eyes bounce between his equally furious pair. “Did you know she was my sister when you were fingering me in the driveway of your shared home?” My anger catapults when he looks disgusted by my line of questioning, which means I’ll only push him harder. “Did you know she was my sister when you were on your knees pledging that she would never have you like I was about to have you!” I storm up to him to bang my fists on his chest. “Did you know she was my sister when you had her sign on a dotted line that would end her life in five yearsifshe was fortunate enough to birth you a son!”

“No!” he screams, snatching up my hands. “I didn’t know anything becauseshelied!” His grip on my wrists turns painful. “I went to their homefor you,but they made out they didn’t know who you were. That they had never heard of a Zoya Galdean before.”

“You’re lying! Aleena wouldn’t do that to me. She loves me.”

When he laughs as if the idea of my sister loving me is ludicrous, I snap. I yank my wrists out of his hold before directing my hands toward his face. This time, I close my fists.

“You’re the lying, cheating piece of shit. Don’t try to put that onmysister.”

I get in two solid hits before he spins me away from him. “Calm the fuck down before I’m forced to retaliate.”

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