Page 12 of Hateful Vows
“I won’t be used, Aleksei.” My voice breaks and I clench my teeth to stave off the nausea that threatens to overtake me. He knows what choice means to me. He bears the marks of it on his face.
In my peripheral vision, Dante frowns then takes a step back. His tone is serious when he addresses us both. “I won’t touch you,” he vows and my head whips to him. “I won’t touch you without you asking me to, Irina. But your brother came to me because I’m your only chance. You have enemies everywhere in the city. I’m the only one who’ll take you in and protect you. My family’s motto demands it once I put my ring on your finger.”
“And Ivan Dobrev?”
“If we don’t kill him, dismantle his whole system and set up a new king on the London Bratva, you’re not the only one at risk,vipera. Your brother will die, too, eventually.”
Aleksei’s emotionless expression tells me he doesn’t care about that part. But I do. I always have. That’s why I trained the way I did for years, in secret. So that one day I’d be able to repay him for protecting me so many times and bearing the scars of it.
“I’ll take his place,” Aleksei says.
“Misha will come after us,” I counter.
“Then, I’ll kill him, too.”
“It’s not that simple. You can’t believe you’re just gonna rebel against the king and have him not care,” I almost yell at my brother but he shrugs.
“With or without your permission, my father dies tomorrow,solnychko.”
And there it is again. The dismissal. Like I’ve been plunged into ice cold water, the fight leaves my body. It’s always the same with men in our lives. They make decisions, and the women follow or die.
Even the nickname he uses for me is a mockery. I’m nothing like sunshine.
“Do we at least get territory with that fucked up deal?” I ask Dante, ignoring the way my brother’s eyes crack with something I refuse to acknowledge.
“What’s mine is yours,vipera. And what’s yours is mine.” The last part is intended for Aleksei. I don’t need them to spell it out for me. My stupid brother offered Dante power and control over part of our business for this shitty protection deal.
Percy meows at my feet and I scoop him up. “I hope your coffers can take me, Ventura.”
His smile is salacious and he licks his bottom lip. He doesn’t say a thing but his thoughts are transparent on his handsome face, the black curls falling over his forehead giving him a boyish look that makes me want to pull them as he kneels for me. After years of living with my brother, who doesn’t say much and isas cold as the tundras of Russia, knowing Dante’s honesty is… Fuck, it’s welcome.
“Now, tell me more about your murderous plans. I do love a goodbye party,” I tell the men, and plan for a funeral.
SEVEN
DANTE
My future wife looks like a queen in her palace. I like it more than I thought I would. It pisses me off.
When Aleksei offered his sister on a silver platter, I thought it’d be the perfect opportunity to mess with them both. With the decades of hate between our families, it wasn’t hard to imagine. But the more Irina settles on my couch, her cat on her lap, the more I take time to admire her.
Slender, elegant hands that would look perfect wrapped around my cock, pearlescent white skin that will take my marks so fucking well, and silky black hair I’m dreaming to hold as I make her take me in between those pouty red lips made for sin. All she does with it is spew venom. She could use it for something so much better.
Then, there’s the matter of dear Aleksei. It’s not even funny how repressed the poor chap is. I notice he didn’t announce to his dear sister that he’s also getting married. I keep my mouth shut. I love good blackmail material and this one is golden.
“There’s nothing to know,” Aleksei tells her with a frown. “In three days, when I report for our session, I’ll strangle him to death.”
“Bare hands,” I whistle. “I like your style, Dobrev.”
“I want to watch,” Irina demands.
My cock stirs to life. I love a feisty woman. It makes the chase all the more enjoyable.
“When you kill your father, Dobrev, you’re gonna have a mutiny on your hands.” I get up and walk to a dresser by the side of the room, pulling a manilla envelope out and throwing it on the table in front of my future wife. “I’ll help you contain it and weed out the weak. But before that, my darlings, you’re gonna sign our contract.”
They exchange a look filled with hate, and something else, too.
Aleksei reads over the contract, takes out a Montblanc pen from his suit jacket and signs without hesitation.
