Page 46 of Savage Vows
He sits in his wheelchair, hands folded neatly in his lap, eyes shrewd and dark as always. Even now, he commands the whole room, the whole damn family, without moving an inch. His presence fills every inch of this house.
I glance at him, then back at Maksim, who only grins and nods. “Good,” he says. “Wouldn’t be the same without the Volkovs.” He claps me on the shoulder.
After Maksim leaves, the house feels heavy again. My father wheels himself closer, his gaze fixed on the door Maksim just disappeared through.
I don’t bother to hide the edge in my voice. “I don’t trust him.”
My father’s mouth twists into a humorless smile. “Good. You shouldn’t trust any of the old families—especially his.” He glances at me, his eyes cold and knowing. “He and the Petrovs are cozy. They all are. You remember that, Dante.”
I nod once. It isn’t news, but the way he says it drives it deeper. The old families—the Petrovs, the Ivanovs, the Sokolovs, the Romanovs—have been circling each other for generations, trading favors and knives in the dark. Even now, with us holding the city, they close ranks when it suits them.
I think back to the way Adriana melted into Maksim’s arms, how easily she smiled for him—how that old trust flared alive in one look. Anyone could see it. Anyone could guess what their families once shared. Petrovs and Ivanovs, thick as thieves.
My father’s voice softens, almost to a whisper. “We are the outsiders, Dante. Don’t need a reminder of that, do you?”
I shake my head. He’s said it since I was a boy. Outsiders. No matter how much we win, this house will never be theirs, and this city will never forgive us for taking what we wanted.
I spot her later, coming down the hall with her arms full of books, hair slipping from its braid. I call her name—soft, not meant for anyone else—but she doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even lookat me. Her steps quicken, like she can outrun the weight of what she saw this morning.
That’s when it hits me. She’s upset. Of course she is. She saw me pull the trigger—saw what I really am, no matter how careful I’ve tried to be around her.
She keeps her eyes fixed on the ground as she passes. I could let her go. I should. But the knot in my chest won’t loosen. I want a reaction. Anything but this careful, silent distance.
So I move, blocking her path. She tries to brush past, but I catch her wrist—gentle, but firm enough that she can’t ignore me. The books slip from her grasp and scatter on the carpet. She freezes, breath shallow.
I study her face. “Adriana,” I say quietly, my voice just for her. “Look at me.”
She doesn’t. Her lashes lower, jaw tight. I see the way her hands tremble, the way she presses herself into the wall as if she can disappear.
I step closer, not letting her escape. My fingers slip under her chin, lifting her gaze to mine. Her eyes are wide, haunted and angry all at once.
For a long moment, I just look at her. Her pulse leaps at her throat. She’s trembling, but not with fear. I can feel it—a spark between us, live and hungry.
“You liked what you saw this morning, didn’t you?” I say, my voice low. My fingers slip to her chin, coaxing her to meet my eyes. “Don’t lie. I saw you at the wedding.”
She tries to look away, but I won’t let her. I want to see the truth on her face.
Her mouth trembles. “You’re—” Her voice breaks. She swallows. “You’re not what I thought you’d be.”
I move closer, breath mingling with hers. “And what did you think I’d be,kotyonok?” I press, soft but relentless. “A monster? Or something you want to touch, even if you shouldn’t?”
I see her resolve falter. The mask cracks. Desire, defiance, and something softer all flicker in her gaze.
I can’t hold back anymore. I lower my mouth to hers, pressing her harder against the wall, tasting her surprise, her heat. For a second, she’s rigid—then she melts into me, kissing back just as fiercely, hands fisting in my shirt.
The kiss turns messy, teeth clashing, her breath hot against my mouth. I grip her waist with one hand, the other sliding down to hook under her thigh. She’s weightless when I lift her, her legs instinctively wrapping around my waist.
I press her to the wall, grinding my cock against the heat between her thighs, the thin fabric of her dress no barrier at all. She moans into my mouth, the sound low and desperate, and fuck—it shoots straight through me.
It’s dangerous to be out in the open like this. But I can’t stop. Not when she’s kissing me back like this, not when she’s trembling in my arms and I can feel how wet she is through the slip of lace.
I break the kiss just enough to drag my mouth to her throat, biting lightly, sucking until I know it’ll leave a mark. Her head falls back, lips parted, and the sound she makes damn near undoes me.
“Say you want me,” I growl against her skin, my cock grinding harder into her. “Say it.”
Her nails dig into my shoulders, and she whispers, breathless, “I want you.”
Her words hit me like gasoline on fire.I want you.
