Page 67 of Lethal Vows

I sit back in my chair.Touché.

Angel leans over and reaches for my hand. It’s uncomfortable, but I don’t pull away. “You might be convincing yourself that Crue is out of your system, but I don’t think you’re out of his.”

“If you ever will be,” Dominic grumbles under his breath.

“This is not the life I want to be a part of. I have always been very clear about that.”

And the further away I am from Crue Monti, the better because I feel like I can breathe and think for myself again.

And more importantly, figure out how I’m going to avoid him.

CHAPTER38

Crue

As I stare up at the hotel that Rya checked into two nights ago after she accused me of sleeping with another woman, I sigh. My little vixen is on the run, and I’m almost disappointed in her. I never thought she’d flee her own home. But what’s more disappointing is she didn’t think I could find her so easily.

Dominic is standing beside me. He drops his smoke and puts it out with his heel. “I don’t think you should go in tonight. Sometimes women need space.”

I shoot him a glare. “That woman is my soon-to-be wife. She should be by my side at all times. None of this cat and mouse shit.”

Although I do enjoy the chase.

But I have a job tonight, so I slip back into the car's back seat. Dominic starts the engine and takes off. I can sense he’s looking at me through the rearview mirror.

“We leave in two weeks. The families back home will want answers and a wedding,” he reminds me.

“I know,” I reply firmly. I don’t need reminding of my deadline.

Tentatively, he adds, “It doesn’t have to be her. It could be anyone.”

I glare at him. He shrugs his shoulders, remaining silent this time.

I know it could be anyone else.

But it has always been her.

Rya Ricciwillbe my wife.

CHAPTER39

Rya

Dear Miss Ricci

Your attendance is required this weekend.

Reply.

Crue

My hands shake in rage.

Goddammit! I received that email one minute before a delivery was made to my hotel suite door. A large white box sits on my bed. So he knows I’ve been holed up in the hotel for the last week. And worse, he still expects me to be his little doll on display. When will this man get a hint or, at the very least, understand the term “ghosting”?

I sigh, curiosity getting the better of me as I open the box. I only lasted an hour. Inside is a long black dress with a slit up the outer leg. The front is low-cut. There are pearl earrings and a necklace to match the dress. He must have known I donated the last earrings. A pair of black Louis Vuitton heels finish off the outfit.

I wonder what event it might be that he so desperately needs me to attend. Knowing him, it could be as simple as going through a takeout drive-through to order, and he would still want me to wear something like this.

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