Page 9 of Vicious Vows

Our deal is secure, written in the fine print on our marriage license, and my future is set. Micah is stiff at my side with my arm around her, and one by one, our guests approach to congratulate us before being ushered to the back patio where light refreshments are being served. When her father approaches, I give him his good news. His life and my stolen money in exchange for his daughter, and he’s home free.

He begs for her life, for her freedom, but the deal is done, and Micah has resigned herself to that fact. She is mine now, even as the ankle monitor is being placed on her leg.

“What’s this for?” she asks harshly, and I smirk at her.

“I’m not an animal, my dear. You’ll have free rein of the house now. Just stay on the property or that will go off. Oh, and don’t think of taking it off. It will sound an alarm. I have to keep tabs on my assets.” I look at Dale, my new computer guy, and nod at him. “Show her the room. I have guests to entertain, and we’ll get pictures shortly.”

“So, you put a house arrest anklet on me?” She crosses her arms over her chest, making her tits pop out, and I lick my lips, imagining how they will taste when I ravage her later tonight. Which reminds me of something else I want to tell her.

“Think of it as a wedding gift, dear. Don’t worry, we can take it off when we fuck tonight. Oh, by the way, you’re moving. You’ll be sleeping in my bed from now on.”

Her face droops, and I smirk at her as I walk past, knowing Dale will do his job showing her around while I go accept more congratulations and enjoy a drink or two. Being married is as great as they say it is. I could get used to this.

7

MICAH

The ogre they call Dale escorts me to a massive room full of computer screens and towers. He has to be piggybacking multiple servers to get this much computing power in here. There are two work stations side by side, as if he expects me to work right next to him, and when he pulls the chair out, I scowl at him.

“You’re just supposed to show me the room. I’m not a child. I know what these things do.” I think about it for a second and add, “Or did you forget that I’m the one who stole money right from under your nose?”

“Mr. Santoro would like me to work with you while you do your hacking for him. I’d like to see you in action, if you don’t mind.” The man is polite—I’ll give him that—but he’s working for Luke, and that means this polite act will go away the instant I refuse to listen to him.

Since I don’t feel like getting off on the wrong foot instantly, I bunch up the skirt of this damn ugly dress he put me in and plop my ass into the chair. It’s the most uncomfortable chair I’ve ever sat in, and I say, “If I’m going to work, I need a better chair,something ergonomic. My wrists are precious moneymakers. If I get carpal tunnel?—”

“Noted,” he barks, shoving my chair in. “Now show me what you do.”

I heave out a sigh and glance around the room. The heavy black metal tables set up for this hacking are so movie-stereotypical. These people are idiots. I don’t need a high-tech computer lab to do this, just my laptop and a good connection. The rest of the room looks like it came straight out of aGQoffice spread with leather furniture and an old man smoking a pipe. It clashes so much it’s distracting.

“Work!” he snaps, and I jump in my seat. Married less than ten minutes, and I’m at this damn desk working my fingers to the bone already.

They fly over the keys in a familiar fashion. He’s opened a portal already, connected to TOR, and set up a wormhole through a backdoor into someone’s accounts. He’s good. I’m better. In twenty seconds, I have tiny deposits in, testing the connection, and then larger sums out, dropping them into Luke’s accounts, which are far easier to access now that I’m in his system.

It's like taking candy from an unguarded baby on Halloween. I could drain the accounts and bankrupt whoever this is, but my job is to siphon funds without leaving a trace. And I can’t be as cutthroat as his stupid wedding vows were. My father’s life depends on my doing my job well and correctly.

“Fascinating. You’re using the?—”

“Zero-day. I know. Shut up.” I don’t talk while I work, except to Will. My God, Will. I wonder what he’s thinking. I wonder if Dadtold him what’s going on. “And do you have to breathe down my neck?”

The man backs off while my fingers continue to work, punching through another firewall into another computer. This is so much faster than at home. I have to admit this computer is powerful, and Will would love working on it with me. Though I’ll never tell Luke about him. I won’t get him messed up in this business. Hopefully, he listens to Dad and stays the fuck out of it. He’s just starting his life. He needs to be safe.

I feel hot breath on my neck again and get irritated, shrugging one shoulder to push Dale away from me, but I feel a stubbled chin, and Dale is clean-shaven.

“I asked you not to breathe down my neck,” I grumble, but it isn’t Dale who responds.

“Ah, darling, but you’re fascinating when your mind is engaged.” Luke’s voice rumbles through me, sending shockwaves into my belly.

I thought I wasn’t scared of him, but I am. The way he so easily threatens to spill blood with a smile on his lips and my hands cradled gently in his is terrifying. My hands keep typing, but I feel the hair on my body stand on end. And I feel the heat of his breath dust my cleavage and realize I’m still in this damn dress, the one that exposes my feminine side to his view.

“What do you want?” I ask, trying to force thoughts of him out of my mind. Thoughts of what he said was going to happen tonight—in his bed, alone.

“I want to watch you work, darling.” As he says the words, he pulls my hair back over my shoulder and exposes my neck. His lips press against my skin, heating it up and sending morewarmth to places I don’t want to feel warmth. Why is he doing this? Why is my body reacting this way?

“Do you have to stand so close?” I snap again, stopping my work. The code continues to run. I watch each line populate, the cursor blinking at me.

“Well, I want to see how you do it and enjoy the view at the same time. But I can let you work if you prefer. I only came to get you for pictures. They’re waiting on us. Though, if you wait too long, they’ll be photographing us in my bed, and you’ll be wearing far less than you have on right now.” His lips press against the sensitive skin below my ears, and my groin throbs. Why is this happening to me? Why am I being aroused by this? I’m not in love with him. I don’t want to fuck him.

Do I?

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