Page 36 of Deceptive Vows

“I want you to go shopping later,” he states.

“What for?”

“Clothes. You need warmer clothes for the weather here, and I don’t particularly like what you’re wearing.” He looks me up and down.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? These are nice clothes.”

“Yes. It’s sexy as fuck, but I’m not the only one who’s going to think so.” His gaze settles on my cleavage, and I swallow hard against the spark of arousal threatening to push its way through me. “I have guards patrolling the grounds who will think so, too. That’s just one thing wrong with your Malibu Barbie look.”

Malibu Barbie? Is he being serious?I couldn’t look any different to Malibu Barbie if I tried.

“What’s the other thing?” I challenge.

“Your father bought them for you, so the less I see of them, the better. I’m sending you to the store to get a whole new wardrobe. Aleksander will go with you. Think of your old stuff as keepsakes. Is that clear?”

“Yeah.” I can’t exactly complain. Getting new clothes is probably a good thing. At least I get to pick them and will feel less like I borrowed someone’s life.

“The seamstress is also coming by tomorrow to discuss your dress. You only have tomorrow to pick the style you want. So, make sure you do it, and don’t give her any trouble,” he states.

Seamstress.

Formywedding dress.

Me.

God, this is actually happening. We’re really getting married.

I’m going to be in my own dress, and we’ll be married.

It won’t be the fairy-tale wedding I dreamed of having when I was a little girl. It will be like some nightmare.

And who will be there to see it happen?

His people. All people who hate me and nobody for me. Unless José will be there.

Or not. What if I don’t see him again?

I was told yesterday he was none of my concern, but I have to ask the question just so I know.

“When am I going to see José?” I say quickly and pray he doesn’t go crazy on me. “Am I going to see him again?”

He sets his elbows onto the table, and I can tell I’ve taken this conversation in a direction I didn’t want.

“I already told you, he’s none of your concern anymore.”

“I know, but I just wanted to see him. Is he still coming to New York?” It would be a cruel joke and a sick twist of fate if I’m sitting here asking these questions while Mikhail has already killed José.

“I’m going to say this one more time, Malyshka. José has nothing to do with you anymore,” he informs with emphasis on every single syllable. “And just so you know...”—he touches my face and lifts my chin, so I meet his gaze head on—“I’m a very jealous, possessive man, and I’m not exactly a fan of your interest in the old man.”

“I told you; he’s my bodyguard. This is the longest I’ve gone without seeing him.”

“I don’t fucking care. In my mind, you look like you want to fuck him.”

My mouth drops, and I don’t know how it doesn’t hit the floor.

“You bastard,” I hiss, backing away from his grasp, different to yesterday when I allowed him to hurt me. I’m just so appalled by what he said it’s enraged me, and I can’t calm myself back down.

He bolts up, squaring off with me with his nostrils flared and eyes blazing.