Page 104 of Lethal Vows

“Are you shitting me right now?” I growl quietly.

“I could say the same to you.” He leans down to whisper in my ear, “Wouldn’t you rather it be me making a scene than Crue gunning down every man who’s made eye contact with your tits tonight? I’m going to have to bubble-wrap you to make sure a massacre doesn’t happen.”

I huff out an exasperated sigh. “Crue doesnotown me. He’s marrying my sister, remember.”

“And how did that happen?” Dawson bites back with more fierceness than I expect from him. “I don’t have any siblings, but I imagine it’s not fair on Honey to be stepping into the middle of whatever chaos you two have between you.”

His words hit hard.

Honey knows what she’s stepping into.

But does she?

Do any of us?

I cut a brief glance in Crue’s direction, and his stare is pinned on me and Dawson.

Fuck! I turn so I can’t see him anymore, my heart leaping out of my chest.

“I liked you more when you spoke less and were simply pretty,” I say to Dawson.

He gives me his most wicked smile. “I could say the same for you.”

“Are you enjoying the party, Dawson?” Honey says in a way that breaks the tension between us. And I wonder if it’s because perhaps Honey fancies him. Or is it that she simply plays hostess well? Either way, I excuse myself.

The reality is, I don’t think Honey knows what she’s signing up for. A man like Crue expects complete obedience, and my throat constricts at how she might falter under his gaze. She may love the lifestyle, but mostly, she has lived freely. Does she not understand the collar and chain that is Crue Monti?

I pass by Mrs. Monti, her obvious glare taking me in from head to toe, ticking up my irritation. Then again, I suppose the last time she saw me, I was supposed to marry her son and shot him instead.

CHAPTER66

Crue

Ithrow back my whisky and follow her.

Because, of course, I can.

What else am I supposed to do?

Rya steps into the library and I follow her, closing the door behind us. She doesn’t so much as look over her shoulder as she trails her finger along the spines of a shelf of books.

That tight black dress clings to her curves, that body my hand knows the workings of inside and out. My cock twitches at the reminder. This insufferable woman who has created so much damage in my life, and yet I find myself still drawn to her.

Obsessed.

Captivated.

Be-fucking-witched.

I can’t let her go, even though everything is in motion for me to be elsewhere.

To marry someone else.

“Have you slept with her?” Rya asks her tone even.

I watch her uncomfortably, adjusting my cock.

What the fuck do I have to lose? I want to savor her if this is the last time I’ll see Rya Ricci.

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