Page 64 of Venomous Vows

“You don’t,” he carps back. “If you did, you would’ve never left my sight. I kept you away when we were younger for this reason alone and now here we are. You’re my fucking responsibility.”

“I’m not, though.”

His eyes narrow, alluding to how many buttons I’ve already pressed thus far. And I’m reaching my limit. “Keep talking, Elena. I’d love to hear more of your arguing so I can fuck it right out of you.”

No.

I’m not ready for all that yet.

“You can’t,” I lie. “Doctor’s orders.”

“Bullshit. You’ve been lifting boxes against doctor’s orders all week. And now you’re in a Vegas club.” His chest lightly bumps into mine and I shiver at the contact. Yet, I can’t move away and I’m unable to yank my gaze off him. “Tell me,piccola diavola,was this tight silver dress that shows every curve of your body meant for you or to gain the attention of every motherfucker in this place? Because I know this isn’t your normal attire.”

My lips part and my response is ready, but it won’t leave my throat with the way his consideration pries into my stubbornness and self-preservation.

Adrian looks over my head for a brief second before looking back down at me. “You’re coming with me,piccola diavola.”

“I can’t,” I retort. “My sister?—”

“Is with Zane,” he divulges simply, as if he’s bored. “And we’re done having this conversation. You’re done working with Celine, too.”

My brows immediately crash together. “What? This wasn’t her idea.”

“Yes, but she definitely set you up.”

“She told you we were here?”

He scoffs haughtily before his fingers slide down to my ass, and he leans over. The smell of cedar and sage fills my nostrils and settles my nerves. “She told The Disciples where you’d be, sweetheart. There’s three of them here right now.”

Mindlessly, I pivot, wishing to see if anyone is looking at me right now and cursing myself for not noticing orfeelingit.

Yes, but she definitely set you up.

Adrian softly pulls me flush against his body, seizing the opportunity when a rustle in the crowd erupts from the area, followed by a female scream over the blaring music.

Celine.

“Adrian, let me go,” I order with my mind still in an uproar about what he just told me and how she’d never put me in danger. “There must be some sort of mistake.”

“I don’t make mistakes,” he claims smoothly. “And I don’t make bold accusations, either.”

“She wouldneverdo something like that to me,” I assert, with my palm resting on his hard chest to keep some distance between us. “I’ve known her for years.”

“Friends come and go,piccola diavola. You’re welcome for my weeding out one who could possibly get you killed.”

He’s insane.

Celine isn’t the backstabbing type. She’s my friend. We’ve been through hell and back together with the business and our personal lives.

It literally makes no sense.

“C’mon,” Adrian urges as he begins to guide me toward the back of the building. “This place is starting to give me a fucking headache.”

That makes two of us.

And I’m in no position to attest to where he’s taking me. I need answers.

And some more painkillers.

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