Page 4 of Deceptive Vows

When I glance at the chains binding him, the tears automatically stream down my cheeks. If he’s chained up, it’s for a reason, and he’s not saying anything about himself. I can’t lose him, too. Not him. Not the way I lost Papa. “What about you, José?”

“Do not worry about me. You have to think of yourself. They will keep me alive until they don’t need to. That’s why I’m here. You, on the other hand, might escape because of this dress.”

He glances down at the still beautiful gown clinging to my body, now a bloodied mess and torn in several places. It’s a one-of-a-kind original made specially for Adrianna, daughter of Raul Alvarez, the Cartel King of Mexico.

I look at the deceptive gown and recall how I came to be wearing it.

Splashed in diamonds and made of the finest silk, this dress would turn anyone into a princess. It wouldn’t matter where I came from or who I was.

Nobody might have known Adriana’s real identity, but everyone who was anyone important knew Adriana was going to be married to Felipe in a week’s time.

It was supposed to be a grand event comparable to a royal wedding, and Raul planned to show off his daughter to his empire. The event was to be symbolic of the expansion of his reign and the continuity of his legacy through Felipe.

Now, Felipe and Adriana are both dead, and the Russian mobsters who locked us up down here think I’m her.

Footsteps sound on the other side of the door, and my nerves spike.

“Remember your promise, mi amor.”

I nod, and he releases me just as the door bursts open. Two men with machine guns walk in first, and then I seehim.

The man from before who shot Felipe.

Dressed in full black like the grim reaper himself, he strides in with that same cool, confident demeanor I witnessed mere moments before he shot Felipe.

I fix my gaze on the beautiful devil I encountered earlier. It could have been hours ago. I have no idea how long I was out. A day could have passed.

Regardless of how much time has gone by, the same shiver of fear wracks my body, and he has the same effect on me with his good looks, power, and dominance.

Those good looks could fool you. His has the eye-catching masculine beauty and ruggedness that makes you want to stare, but it’s the power and dominance rippling off him in effulgent waves that highlight how dangerous he is.

He’s not the man you swoon over. He’s the man you run from the first chance you get.

Just looking at him is suffocating.

His dark, dominant presence robs me of my senses, and I feel like a hand is clamped around my lungs, squeezing tight from inside of my body, strangling me.

The corners of his lips turn into a wicked smile, and as he approaches, I feel like I might die from fright before he reaches me.

I’m paralyzed with terror as he bends down, grips me by my throat, and lifts my trembling body.

He grins wide at the obvious fear I’m showing.

“The princess is awake, boys,” he states. And now I know the faint accent I picked up earlier is Russian. The deep baritone of his voice is cool and husky with a lingering effect that works its way into me. “And even with the blood of her bastard fiancé on her face, she’s still as beautiful as she’s rumored to be.”

Those honey-colored eyes of his drink me in, and the darkness within makes my mouth dry and my heart gallop in the cavity of my chest.

There’s only one thing that darkness can mean.

Death.

Darkness means death, and I don’t want to die.

Right now, I don’t know if being Adriana will kill me or keep me alive as José said. If the latter is true, for how long?

“Please don’t kill me,” I beg when he digs his fingers into my skin.

“Kill? Oh, I have much worse in store for you, Adriana Alvarez.”