Page 42 of Poisoned Vows

He wasn’t expected to do any of this. I was supposed to be a fucktoy for his father, something to be enjoyed and thrown away. But now I’m Nikolai’s wife, looking at a closet full of designer clothes, about to be taken away somewhere on what I can only assume is a honeymoon.

At least if he bought me all of this, he’s probably not planning on taking me somewhere and murdering me.It seems like a waste.

I don’t pack any of the lingerie, out of sheer stubbornness if nothing else. He can make me fuck him, but he can’t make me bring clothes to dress up in for it. “Where are we going?” I ask as I put three pairs of jeans into the duffel. “I have no idea what to bring with me.”

“A cabin,” he says offhandedly. “Bring what you want to wear that will be comfortable. There won’t be any fancy dinners or shopping excursions.”

He says it almost derisively, as if he’s expecting me to be disappointed. As if I care about any of that. Like my life was ever any of those things before.

“I didn’t expect that,” I tell him flatly, taking two of the pairs of jeans out and replacing them with leggings. If he says comfortable, I’m going to be fucking comfortable. If he has an attitude about having to see his new wife in lounge clothes, I’ll remind him of what he said. I have no desire to swan around a cabin in a cocktail dress and diamonds.

“The car is going to be here soon.” He looks at his phone. “Hurry up.”

“I’m hurrying.” I shove a handful of T-shirts into the bag. “Is a plane leaving or something? Don’t you have a private jet?”

“We’re driving. I’m ready to get out of here, that’s all.”

There’s something tense in his tone that I don’t like, though. If we don’t have a plane to catch, there’s no reason to be in such a rush, and my stomach knots with cold anxiety as I walk to the bathroom to toss whatever I might need into a bag. It takes me longer than I think he likes, but I don’t actually know what’s been purchased for me, so it takes me a minute to find it all.

“Are you done?” He’s all but tapping his foot as I walk out with my bags, and I narrow my eyes at him.

“Maybe you do need a vacation. Are you always this tense?”

His face doesn’t change. “Let’s go, Lilliana.”

I’ve started to learn that when he uses my actual name, and not one of the nicknames I despise, it means that he’s serious about whatever he’s saying. All it does is make me want to buck against it more, because I don’t want him to think he can Pavlov me into doing what he wants by using my name.

The way he’s in such a rush is starting to make my skin crawl, though. The entire idea of going out to a remote cabin with him after the way he’s been acting is making me more and more uncomfortable. But I don’t see how I have a choice. There’s no getting out of this. If I tried to run, his security would grab me. Or he’d grab me himself, and I think I’d prefer getting tackled by the guards.

“Lilliana.” His voice cuts through the air again, and I glare at him.

“Alright! Let’s go.”

When we walk out front, a car is there, but with no driver. I look confusedly at Nikolai as he takes my bags and gestures at the passenger’s seat.

“I said I was driving.”

“No, you said—” I break off, feeling that knot of anxiety tighten. He’d saidwewere driving, which I’d interpreted to mean we were being driven. But now, seeing the Maserati parked there and the lack of a driver, it’s clear that he’s taking the two of us to this cabin himself.

Am I coming back?

None of it makes sense. He didn’t need to marry me if he was just going to off me the day after the wedding. He certainly didn’t need to buy me a department store’s worth of clothes and other items. But it still makes me feel as if something is wrong.

“You can’t buy my affection, you know,” I tell him as I slide into the car, and he starts the engine. “Designer clothes and a sports car aren’t the way to my heart.”

“I told you I wasn’t interested in your heart.” The engine purrs as he turns down the long driveway, and I fight the urge to rub my hands over the buttery soft leather seats. I’ve never been in a car this nice before.

“Just my body.” I don’t bother trying to keep the distaste out of my voice. I want him to know just how much I don’t want this.And I don’t. I really don’t.

“Better me than others.” He doesn’t look at me as he pulls out onto the highway. “I won’t hurt you.”

“You and I have different ideas about what constituteshurt.” I push my hands between my knees. “You’re making me do things I don’t want to. I think that’s hurting me.”

“Then you have no idea what pain really is.”

“And you have no idea what you’re talking about,” I snap back, gritting my teeth as I try to hold back the instant flare of anger that swells up in my chest.How dare he?He has no idea what my life has been like, what I’ve been through.

“I might if you told me, instead of throwing these cutting words at me constantly.” Nikolai’s jaw is set, and I can tell he’s getting equally pissed.Good. If we’re a married couple, we might as well fight like one.

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