Page 43 of Deceptive Vows (Bound by Vows #3)

THEA

Three months later in New York…

The blade danced between my fingers, catching the dim light of the New York penthouse as I watched the streets below. From forty floors up, the city looked almost peaceful—all its hard edges softened by the distance and darkness.

Behind me, I heard the quiet click of the door. My muscles coiled instinctively, despite knowing exactly who it was.

"How was Chicago?" Nazar's voice carried across the space, warm and familiar, wrapping around me like a caress.

While he'd traveled to Russia for business with Pasha, I'd returned to Chicago. I'd expected it to still feel like home, but it didn't. Nazar was home.

"Heartwarming." I smiled and turned to face him, drinking in the sight of my husband—still a word that tasted strange and sweet on my tongue. His dark suit was impeccable and made him all the more delicious to look at. "Lucas says hello."

Nazar's lips curved into that half-smile that still made my heart skip. "And how is your brother taking our permanent arrangement?"

"He loves me, and I love you. He's adjusting." I crossed the room to him, sliding the knife back into the sheath at my thigh. "Anna's pregnancy is a good distraction for the entire family. A beautiful new life to focus on."

"You're going to be an incredible aunt." His hands found my waist, pulling me against him. Three months of marriage hadn't dulled the electricity of his touch.

"I already love them," I said as I leaned into him. I didn't think it was possible to love a child as much as I loved Ari and Anna's.

"And Gabriele? "

The name hung between us—the last loose end. The remaining Moretti brother was still pretending he and Marco were fighting. He'd already moved in as head of the Moretti family and proclaimed Marco's era of leadership over.

I sank deeper into him, inhaling as I did, breathing him in. "We have a wedding to attend in a month."

Unlike the rushed weddings between my brothers and me, Sofia's family requested a little more time to make arrangements. I'd met her aunt briefly while home, and it was as if she was the one getting married with the way she'd carried on. I'd almost felt sorry for my brother's future bride.

"Still proceeding with the ruse?"

I pulled back to meet Nazar's gaze. "Men like him think they're smarter, more cunning than anyone else. The beauty of arrogance is that it blinds you to your own weaknesses."

He nodded, his eyes darkening with the same determination that drove us both. "Eventually, he'll make a mistake."

"They always do," I agreed, my fingers tracing the lapel of his jacket. "How was Moscow?" I asked, noting the faint tension in his shoulders that hadn't been there when he left.

"Sergei spent years underground, avoiding detection. If it weren't for his blind hatred of Krysha, we wouldn't have to worry about Gabriele, but it seems he's decided to turn his full attention to Pasha and me."

There would be no peace until the Gray Wolves were eradicated. I'd even traveled to Russia with Nazar once already to join him in protecting Pasha, cementing my place next to my husband and my commitment to our Pakhan.

"Next time," I said, "I'm coming with you."

"I was hoping you'd say that." Nazar reached into his jacket and withdrew a small package wrapped in black silk. "A gift."

I took it, feeling its weight—solid and familiar—before unwrapping it. The knife that lay in my palm was exquisite. Damascus steel with a handle of polished bone, inlaid with platinum in an intricate pattern.

"Pasha had it made." He watched my face as I tested its perfect balance. "A wedding gift, custom-made and finally delivered."

"It's beautiful." I admired the craftsmanship. The blade was both artwork and weapon, like our marriage.

"He said it reminded him of you. Lethal and graceful."

I smiled, slipping the knife into my bra. "I like him more each day."

Nazar took my hand, his thumb tracing over the wedding band on my finger. "There's something else. News from Elana."

My breath caught. The ballerina had become an ally, keeping tabs on the other rescued women as they rebuilt their lives. "Is she all right?"

"Thriving. She's dancing again. Paris Opera Ballet offered her a position." His eyes softened. "She said to tell you thank you. That she's alive because of you."

I swallowed hard, still uncomfortable with gratitude. "I did what needed to be done."

"Always."

The word carried weight between us, an acknowledgment of who we were, of what brought us together. We'd found each other amid blood and chaos and deception.

And against all odds, we'd chosen to stay.

"The bed's far too large without you." I traced the line of his jaw with my fingers. "I've gotten used to your snoring." I would never tire of teasing him.

"I don’t snore," he protested, though his eyes crinkled at the corners.

"Keep telling yourself that, lover."

He caught my wrist, pressing his lips to my pulse point. "I missed you too."

I melted into him as his mouth found mine. A kiss that tasted like homecoming, fierce and tender and hungry all at once.

We weren't perfect. This thing we had wasn't easy. But it was mine, ours.

Promises and vows.

No longer deceptive, but true.