Page 15 of Devious Truth (Vicious Sinners #3)

“ T ake her off this fucking list.” I growl into my phone as I yank open the front door to Vivienne’s apartment building.

The lock is still broken.

“You’re sure?” Meredith’s question comes through as more than curious; she’s poking around the edges of an already sore wound.

“Yes. Why was she even on it? I took her off that list.”

“Vee is an adult and has a mind of her own. When she saw you removed her name, she demanded I put her back on.”

“When was this?”

“The day after you removed her,” she says casually.

Meredith’s inability to be intimidated by me at this moment only brings my irritation up another level. It’s also the reason she’s in charge of managing Obsidian. That, and she’s immune to Kaz’s charismatic personality.

“Take her off, and she doesn’t get put back on. She’s banned from the auctions.”

As I step onto Vivienne’s floor, the door to her neighbor’s apartment opens and one of the asshole brothers steps out.

He’s higher than the Mars Land Rover. At least he has enough brain cells firing to duck his head as he passes me, keeping his hands stuffed in the front of his jeans as he turns to jog down the stairs.

I hate this place. I hate that Vivienne lives here.

“I’ll take her off. Do you want to tell her, or should I tell her that you’ve banned her from making nearly a year’s salary in one night?”

“I’m seeing her now; I’ll tell her.”

She doesn’t need the money. All of her bills have been paid off. Not a single debt remains in her name. And her checking account has been filled. Putting her name on that auction list is just her way of telling me to fuck off.

“Is there something I need to know about?” Meredith asks, poking again. “You know, about you two?”

“No. Nothing that affects Obsidian.”

“All right. Well, when you see her, tell her I hope she feels better.”

I grunt. We both know Vivienne’s not ill. She’s in hiding.

Six months ago, Vivienne showed up for her shift despite having a hundred and two fever and a throat so raw she couldn’t speak. Meredith had to threaten to take her off the schedule for a week if she didn’t voluntarily take the night off.

“And tell Kaz the girls are all pulling for him.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.” At least his ego will.

Her laugh is the last sound I hear before the call ends. Just as I step up to Vivienne’s door, a message comes through from Alexander.

Kaz is up and causing a ruckus. He’ll be home and in his own bed by the end of the night. Stubborn asshole. Maybe if we hire a beautiful nurse, she can persuade him to stay in bed for at least another day.

Pressing my ear to the door, I check for voices or a television. Anything that will suggest she’s awake. It’s late. Not that it will keep me from waking her up to see her.

Last night I left Vivienne with Yosef so I could drive across town to Obsidian. In the lowest level of the club, a part of the building very few even know exists, Joey De Luca hung from a meat hook awaiting justice for his crimes.

It was for her own safety that I left Yosef to take her home.

Seeing Kaz lying lifeless like that, and all that fucking blood, coupled with the fact it had been so easy to get to him…it sent my head into a tailspin. It could have as easily been me. If Vivienne had been with me, it could have been her.

The tension in my shoulders radiates up my neck.

Once I get my eyes on her and remind myself that she’s fine, she’s safe, and she will remain that way, this damn ache in my chest will ease up.

Raising my fist, I pound on the door.

There’s movement on the other side and a faint shit a second later. It’s enough to soften the tightness in my jaw.

“I’m not feeling good, Ivan. Can I talk to you later?”

“No. Open the door.” I peer into the peep hole, certain she’s watching my reaction from the safety of the other side.

As if this cheap, hollow door would keep me from getting to her.

“But I’m sick.” A fake cough follows the lie.

“That’s two, Vivienne.”

“Fine.” It’s drawn out, like a petulant teenager who’s been told for the fifteenth time to take out the trash.

The door opens just enough for her head to peak through the opening. “What?”

“Open the door.”

“It’s late.”

“I know. So maybe we shouldn’t be having our conversation in the hallway where we’ll be keeping the other tenants awake.” The music from an apartment from three doors down blasts at that moment, undermining me. “I’m coming in.”

It’s tempting to push the door open, but I won’t.

After a moment of indecision, she steps out of the way and leaves the door wide open as she retreats into the living room.

“Is Kaz all right?” she questions, folding her hands in front of herself.

“He is.” I shut and bolt the door.

“That’s good.” She rubs her lips together, her eyes making contact with everything else in the room besides me.

“You look well for someone who’s sick.” I drink her in.

She’s dressed in a pair of black legging capris and a T-shirt that drops off her shoulder. Her hair’s pulled up into a messy bun, loose strands framing her face. She’s fucking gorgeous.

“I’m better now.” She chews on the inside of her cheek with her lie.

“I told you before not to lie to me. You’re not sick; you’re avoiding me.”

“I just needed a day.” Her shoulders relax. “Last night was a lot.”

It was. And for someone not accustomed to the violence of my world, it had to be even more to take in. I shouldn’t have left her alone after. When I was finished with Joey, I should have come straight here to be sure she was all right, to soften the harshness she’d been thrust into.

But seeing me after what I’d done, what I’d had to do, might have made it worse. A monster needs time to go back into hiding after being dragged out of the darkness.

“Meredith showed me the final list for next week’s auction.” I fold my arms over my chest, staring her down.

“And?” She mimics my stance, thinking to go toe to toe with me.

It’s cute that she thinks she can take me on.

“You’ve been taken off. You won’t be in that auction or any other auction. I had already told you that, but I guess you didn’t listen.” I pause a moment. “Just like last night when you had two more drinks after I said no more.”

“You can’t be serious. Your brother had been shot!” She takes a breath. “And since we’re talking about last night, Yosef didn’t leave after I was inside my apartment. He sat outside in his car. When I got up this morning, he was still there.”

“I told him to stay put.”

There’s another car there now, but since I had my men switch to less obvious cars she probably hasn’t noticed.

“Why?” She takes a step forward. “And where’s my car? It’s got to be done by now. I can’t have you keep driving me everywhere. I need my car back.”

“Your car will be done by the end of the week.”

She freezes, like she wasn’t expecting me to give in so easily. I didn’t—give in, that is—but she doesn’t know it yet.

“Oh.”

“And for the time being, someone will be sitting outside your apartment building. I need to be sure you’re safe. This mess with the DeAngelos isn’t to be ignored.” Better for her to know, so if one of the men ever need to approach her she won’t be frightened.

Women and children are supposed to be out of bounds, but that doesn’t mean much to a man like Marco DeAngelo. He’s built his empire off the horrors he puts women through. He can’t be trusted to have any sort of honor, especially when it comes to a war.

I move toward her, ignoring how she retreats as I advance until her back is against the bedroom door.

“And if I don’t want that?” Her voice softens.

“When it comes to your safety, you don’t get to say no.” I run the back of my hand along her jaw, just needing to feel her beneath my skin.

Even if it hurts.

She grabs my wrist with a gasp, staring down at my hand. My swollen knuckles are an ugly black and blue. Thin scabs have formed over the few places they split open.

“What did you do?” She brings her eyes up to mine, and I can see she already knows. “The shooter?”

“Last night wasn’t supposed to end the way it did.” I slide my hand free of her grasp.

“If your family is fighting with the DeAngelo family, why did Kaz go to that restaurant? Was he trying to provoke them?”

“What do you mean?”

“The owner’s son is engaged to Maria De Luca. Marco’s father was her godfather.” She hesitates a moment, a fresh blush touching her cheeks. “That’s what Elana said, anyway.”

“How does she know?” This conversation is giving me whiplash.

“I don’t know, she didn’t say.”

My little sister has cried for years that she wants nothing to do with Volkov business. She’s made it her mission to go through life never being part of this world we’ve created, so why would she have that sort of information?

“I’m not sure if Kaz knew about that. But it only goes to show that it’s dangerous right now. Maybe you should consider staying with me for a while.”

Her jaw drops. “Absolutely not. Why would I do that?”

“Because.” I grab hold of her chin, ignoring the pain shooting up from my knuckles. “I will do anything to keep you safe.”

For a long moment, her eyes bore into mine.

“I’m not yours to protect.” She shoves my hand away and slides to the side to put space between us. “Last night was a one-time thing. It was a job; that’s all it was.”

The memory of her scent still clings to my soul. I’ve fucked women who had no connection to me outside wanting physical satisfaction. What transpired between Vivienne and me last night was nothing like that.

“Do you remember what I said about lying?”

“Are you threatening me again? You’ll throw me over your knee?”

There’s a spark in her eye that doesn’t match the sass in her voice. That wall of hers has a crack in it, and being the bastard I am, I’m going to exploit it for all it’s worth.

“Do you want me to? Do you want me to punish you? Will that make it easier for you to open up, to be honest with yourself and to me?” I want nothing more in this moment to do exactly that.

And if pushing her helps bring her to a place where she’s safe to open herself to me is what she needs, I won’t deny her.

Having her over my lap, her perfect ass propped up on one knee, that fucking uniform shoved up to her hips exposing her beautiful curves… My cock is unbearably hard already, and I haven’t touched her yet.

“You can’t say things like that to me.” She wets her lips, contradicting herself again.

Does she have any idea of what she wants? Maybe she thinks she needs to deny herself.

“Why?”

“Because it’s not appropriate. You’re my boss.”

“Not this again.” It’s a tired excuse, and I swear if I have to fire her to have her, I will.

If I have to keep her from getting a job anywhere in the city, I can, and I will if it means keeping her at my side. Where I know she’s safe. Where I can be sure she’s taken care of.

This obsession of mine has moved past the realm of curiosity. I crave this woman. And nothing—not even her—is going to stand in my way.

“It’s still true.”

“Vivienne, I don’t care if you work for me. You’re a smart woman; you know that. It’s an excuse, a thin shield you’re trying to put in front of yourself.” Cupping her face, I draw her into me, bringing my lips right to hers before whispering, “And it’s not going to work anymore.”

A growl rumbles through my chest as I brush my lips across hers, pressing her body against the door. It’s not enough, I need more.

“It wasn’t just a job. Last night,” I murmur. “You’re lying to yourself, to me when you say that.”

Her eyes meet mine, clear and wide. I kiss her, a hard, unyielding kiss, determined to erase the fear, the doubt, the thick wall she’s built between us.

Cradling her jaw, I pull her closer, and she doesn’t pull away. Her lips part on a breathless sound that opens the crack in her walls wider.

Her hands press gently against my chest, fingers curling into my jacket. She’s not pushing me away but holding me to her. It’s a soundless confession. And when she kisses me back, fierce and trembling, I know she’s feels it, too.

“Work for me, don’t work for me. It won’t change anything.” I run my thumb along her jaw.

“Your brother was almost killed last night, Ivan. You’re telling me that I could be in danger just for being with you. Is that what you really want? You want me in danger?”

My jaw twitches. Of course I want her safe. I’d burn the whole fucking city to ashes if it meant eliminating any threat toward her.

“It’s too late for that to be a consideration.” Getting my phone from my pocket, I swipe to the society blog that covered last night’s charity event.

The first picture on the post is of us getting out of the car when we arrived. Apparently, the photographer I scared away didn’t stay scared for long. There are two more photos of us inside the event, neither giving the impression the conversation we’re locked in is platonic.

“Oh no!”

She snatches the phone from me and scrolls through the screen, reading the article that goes along with them. We’re mentioned briefly, me by name. Since she was my plus one and not on the guest list, I guess they weren’t able to find hers yet. But it’s only a matter of time.

Fire burns bright in her gaze when she looks back up at me.

“Can’t you make them take this down?”

“I can, but it’s already been seen by too many people for it to matter. And it’s not a negative article. It mentions the millions of dollars my family donates to charities every year.” I take the phone back from her before she can smash it.

She looks ready to smash a lot of things.

“If you won’t stay with me, that’s fine.” She needs her independence for the time being. I can manage that. “But there will be security at your building at all times. And I’m getting that fucking landlord of yours to put in an actual security system and a lock on the doors that works.”

“Fine. I guess I can’t argue with a better security system on the building, but don’t you think having a babysitter outside is overkill?”

“No. Overkill would be having him sit in your living room.” I pause a beat. “If your bedroom wasn’t basically in your living room, I might do that.”

She drops her shoulders. “Fine. Babysitter outside. Is there anything else? Would you like to put up cameras in my apartment? Maybe have a sniper stationed across the street with a clear view of my apartment. You know, in case any bad guys get inside?”

“You’re back to being a smart ass.” I graze my fingertip over her jaw. “You’re looking for a punishment, I think. Something to take the edge off all the stress.”

“I’m not a child.”

“And yet, you’ve faked ill to get out of work today, you’ve lied to me, and your attitude suggests otherwise.” Snaking my hand up into her hair, I fist the strands at the scalp.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be gentle.”