Page 71 of Poisoned Vows

He looks at me, his chest rising and falling visibly as he tries to get control of himself. “I’m taking you back to the penthouse,” he says finally. “There’s enough security there that you should be safe. And then I’m going to see what I can find out about this shit.”

I don’t know what to say. My heart is racing as we go back out to the car, a fearful lump still clogging my throat. Nikolai opens the door to the car for me, and I grip the sides of the seat, trying to ground myself somehow as he gets in on the other side, slamming the door and revving the engine.

I can feel the anger rolling off of him in waves as he drives. It’s not directed at me, but it’s still terrifying. I sit there trembling, trying to breathe, trying not to remember the stench of death in the house.

I’ve never seen a dead body before. Never even been close to one. I feel like I might pass out or throw up, and I don’t think Nikolai is in the mood to deal with either, so I sit there with my fingers digging into the buttery leather of the seats, clinging onto the last shred of my sanity for dear life.

He weaves through traffic as we head downtown, darting in and out at a frightening pace, until we reach the building where his penthouse is, and he pulls into the underground garage. He comes around to open my door again, and I find that I can’t move. I’m frozen in my seat, shaking.

“Lilliana.” His voice is less harsh than I expected it to be. “I need to get you inside. Come on.”

Somehow, I manage to peel myself out of the car. My legs are trembling so badly that I feel like they might give out on me at any moment, but I follow him to the elevator, realizing that his gun is in his hand again.

“You don’t think—” My eyes flick towards the weapon, my heart hammering in my chest. I need it to slow down, or I’m going to pass out.

“It’s better to be safe,” Nikolai says curtly. “I go first when those doors open, Lilliana. You stay behind me until we’re safely inside.”

I nod mutely. For once, I have no desire to argue with him.Iwant to be safely inside, but I have no idea if even that will be enough to make me feel like I’m out of danger. This wasn’t at all what I had expected to come back to.

The doors to the elevator open, and Nikolai strides out, gun held by his thigh as he looks out into the hallway. I peek around him a little, careful to still stay behind him as instructed, but all I see are the black-clothed security that I’d expected lining the hall.

“Let’s go,” Nikolai says sharply, striding forward, motioning for me to follow. Vaguely, I’m aware that under any other circumstances, I’d be furious with being summoned along like this. Still, I can’t bring myself to care. I feel as if I’m wound so tight that as soon as I let go, I’ll collapse like a puppet with my strings cut.

Nikolai opens the door quickly, walking past the security standing by it. “Go inside,” he tells me. “I’ll be there in a minute. I need to talk to my security.”

I nod, mutely walking inside. I see a flicker of something that looks like concern over his features, as if he’s confused by my acquiescence, but it’s gone almost as quickly.

The penthouse is beautiful, if a little masculine, for my taste. Everything is black and grey and cream, iron and leather and wood, with one wall that’s mostly window overlooking the city beyond. Numbly, I walk to the nearest couch, my shoes sinking into the thick cream rug stretched out over the gleaming dark hardwood floor, before I topple onto the black leather couch.

It’s cool against the backs of my arms. I lie there, staring up at the ceiling, at the iron chandelier hanging to my right. There’s a certain rustic industrialness to the style of Nikolai’s penthouse that reflects the cabin, and I realize it must be something he likes. Hard edges, rough texture, softened by some plush textiles.

There’s a painting on one wall above a grand piano, I’d be willing to fucking bet Nikolai doesn’t know how to play, in a frame made of some black metal that looks like twisted iron. It’s a watercolor, all browns and greens and whites, and I think it’s one of those bullshit abstract paintings that you’re not really meant to understand what it is, because everyone interprets it differently. Lying there, I start to understand what that’s all about—because I see the blurs of browns turning into the shape of that deer in the woods, the white that snow underneath its hooves, as it stood there without an idea in its head that it was about to die. There’d been a gun trained on its head, and it hadn’t even known it.

There’s no red in the painting, but for a moment, I almost see it, a splash of it on the blurry white.

What the fuck am I even thinking about?I feel like I’m going insane. Less than an hour ago, I was staring at a dead body, and now I’m thinking about interior decorating.It must be a trauma response.

I don’t know how long I lay there, looking up, before I hear the door open. I sit up in a flash, curling back against the sofa, but it’s just Nikolai—and that thought makes a bubble of laughter escape from my lips before I drop my forehead onto my knees and start to cry.

I would never have thought there would be a day when I would be relieved to see Nikolai walk through a door.

“Lilliana.” His voice is still gentler than normal as he comes to sit down next to me. He reaches out, touching my thigh, and I flinch back. I can’t help it. “Lilliana, it’s alright. You’re safe here, as long as you stay inside.”

“How do you know?” I wipe at my face, sniffing back tears. It feels like everything is catching up to me at once, and I want to curl into a ball and sob until there’s nothing left. But I can’t do that in front of him.

Not for the first time, I wish he would leave.

“I have enough security to keep just about anyone from getting in here.” His hand is still resting on my thigh, but for the first time, it feels like it’s out of comfort instead of lust. “I have more coming, too. There will be a goddamn army keeping this place locked down until I get back—until I figure out what’s going on.”

“Is it really going to do any fucking good?” I look at him blankly. “There was security at the mansion, too. What difference is there?”

Nikolai’s mouth twitches. “My father was arrogant,” he says simply. “He kept less security around him than he should, and I have a feeling whoever did this was in his company often enough to recognize patterns in it. I handle things differently.”

“Why do you care so much about keeping me safe?” I sniff again, rubbing my hands over my face. “What does it fucking matter? Your sister is gone. Why are you even still here?”

Nikolai looks at me, letting out a slow breath. I can’t read the expression on his face, but for once, I believe the sincerity in his words when he speaks.

“You are my wife, Lilliana. Your safety is every bit as important to me.”

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