Page 26 of Devious Truth (Vicious Sinners #3)

“ Y ou’re not dead.” I wrap my arms around Caroline’s waist as she’s stuffing her bag into her locker.

Her shift started after I got in, and it’s been so busy tonight I haven’t had a chance to talk with her until her break.

She laughs. “Dead tired, but otherwise perfectly alive. I didn’t sleep much last night, and then most of today was spent in bed too…not sleeping. Thank God I had such a late start time tonight.”

“You weren’t supposed to leave with that guy.” I poke her in the shoulder. “But since you’ve lived through it…did you at least have fun?”

She shuts her locker and leans her hip against it. “Fun? Vee, when I tell you I have never been fucked like that in my entire life, I’m not exaggerating. Devon knows his way around a woman’s body.” She fans herself.

“He looked so scary, though,”

She deadpans. “And Ivan doesn’t scare the shit out of everyone with working braincells in this city?”

“Fair point.”

“And what are you doing working, anyway?” She leans closer to the mirror, running the tip of her finger along the bottom of her lip, fixing her lipstick.

“I’m getting off now. I was only on until midnight tonight. ” I tuck a piece of hair back into my high pony and smooth out some flyaway strays.

“No. I mean, you’re dating Ivan Volkov; why the hell are you working at all? Do you know how much money he’s worth?”

“A lot.” I fold my arms over my stomach.

“Put a few more zeroes on a lot and you’re closer. You don’t need to work.”

“That’s his money, not mine. And we’re just seeing each other. It’s nothing serious.” I’m getting to be a compulsive liar when it comes to Ivan.

Within the last twenty-four hours the man demanded I marry him, threatened to punish me if I refused, then declared it was going to happen well within the year. ‘Just seeing each other’ isn’t close to the correct characterization of what’s going on.

“Vee?” Serenity peeks her head in through the door. “Ivan says if you’re not out in five minutes, he’s coming in, and he doesn’t care if it’s the women’s locker room.”

She makes a face that barely hides her amusement at having to deliver his message.

“Thanks. I just need to change, and I’ll be right out.” Five minutes is more than I need, but I’m going to use every last second now. The man has to stop doling out orders like I’m one of his soldiers.

“I’ll let him know.” She winks.

“He’s taking you home again?” Caroline teases. “I told you, Ivan doesn’t do casual. This isn’t a fling. And now that you’ve finally given in, he’s never going to let you go.”

“My car’s still not ready, though I’m pretty sure at this point he’s holding it hostage.” I pause, holding my jeans poised to step into them. “I’ll get it back this week if I have to go to the mechanic myself.”

“I’m sure that will go over well.” She checks her lipstick again. “I have three more hours until I’m off. Are you on tomorrow?”

“What’s tomorrow, Sunday? I don’t think so.” I zip up my jeans and grab my phone, swiping through to my calendar. “Nope. I’m on Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday for next week.”

“Tuesday’s the auction,” Caroline says with a grin. “I’m pretty sure Ivan told Meredith to keep you clear away from the club that night.”

“He probably did.” Another notification comes through as I’m putting my phone away.

“What’s wrong?” Caroline steps over to me. “Something bad?”

“No.” I type a quick response. “My mother-in-law passed away a little while ago. Derek’s cousin is texting me. Apparently, she left me something, and he wants to know if they can mail it.”

“What is it?”

“He doesn’t say.” I throw my phone into my purse and finish getting changed. “It’s probably just some photographs or something. It’ll be here in a few days.”

“Maybe she feels bad about being such a bitch when Derek was alive, and she wants to leave you a huge bank account.”

“Doubtful. Marie made just enough money to cover her bar tab and rent.” Slamming my locker shut, I sling my purse over my shoulder. “I’ll see you on Monday?”

“Yep, I’m on.”

Ivan stands on the other side of the door when Caroline yanks it open, his eyes darting straight me. His whole body seems to relax.

“Have a good night,” Caroline wiggles her fingers and heads back into the club.

“I don’t want to get in the way of your work if you have things to do.” I stop in the doorway, folding my arms over my chest.

His eyes narrow a fraction. “The car’s waiting.”

We walk in silence through the underground hallways leading us to the side entrance he and his brothers use. Yosef waits for us, getting out of the car to open the doors as soon as he notices our arrival.

After twenty minutes of silence, I realize Yosef isn’t headed to my apartment. “You’re taking me to your place again?”

Ivan envelopes my hand with his.

“Yes.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

He tightens his hand when I try wiggle mine away.

“No.”

The car falls into silence again. It’s almost painful, the thickness of it.

His thumb casually pets my palm, each slow stroke grounding me, steadying the storm brewing inside me. The air between us doesn’t feel quite so heavy anymore.

When we arrive at his building, he lets go of my hand in order to get out of the car. The disappearance of his touch lets the intrusive thoughts I’ve been fighting all day creep back in.

Whatever is happening between us can’t keep going. It has to stop.

Aside from the obvious fact dating my boss is a horrible decision, there’s the fact that he’s deep in the Russian mafia. His brother’s already been shot, and he or I could be next.

I need to get out of this before my heart gets broken, or worse.

When the elevator opens and I don’t get out, Ivan turns, giving me a quizzical look.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Getting out of the elevator?”

“Staying here tonight.”

“You’d rather stay in the elevator?” He tilts his head, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

“You know what I mean.”

The doors start to close, but Ivan stops them with his arm. He leans against the doors.

“My family is coming over in the morning for Sunday brunch. We try to do it a few times a month, but things have been chaotic for the last few months. I want you here when they come over.”

“Ivan—”

“Vee, it’s brunch.” He holds out his hand.

“No more talk about getting married?” I reach out for his hand but stop just short of touching.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” He lifts a shoulder. “But nothing has to be decided tonight. Or tomorrow.”

It’s probably the closest thing I’m going to get to an agreement to take it off the table. Coraline’s right, this is Ivan Volkov; if he says he wants something, he’s not going to let a little thing like me saying no stop him.

So many red flags, and I just keep stepping over them.

“Okay.”

“Are you hungry?”

“No. I ate at the club. I need a shower though; I stink of cigars and cologne.”

He drops my hand when we get to the bottom of the stairs. His eyebrow peaks. “Why do you smell of cologne?”

“Because apparently men think they can cover up the stench of their douchebaggery by bathing in it.” I lean against the banister. “I’m a waitress, Ivan. I have to lean between men during their poker games.”

“You mean you bend over their tables, so they get a better look at your ass.”

I laugh. “You hired me to do just that, and now you look angry because I do it?”

“No, I’m angry that while I was upstairs, men had their eyes on what belongs to me.” He gently pries my purse strap from my shoulder, taking it from me. “And I didn’t hire you to show anyone your ass. I hired you to bring them drinks and food while they stared at other women’s asses.”

“Hmm, I don’t remember that in the orientation video.”

He laughs. It’s full and real, and it sends a tremor through me. This has become easy, these little conversations between us.

“I need to check on something, go up and take your shower. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Ivan, you know I can’t move in here, right? I mean, bringing me home after work sometimes…it’s fine, but I’m not moving in here.”

He squares off with me, inhaling sharply, and then he turns to walk away.

“Go take your shower, Vee.” The sharp click of his shoes against the tiles of the foyer trail behind him as he leaves me stranded at the foot of the stairs.

When I enter Ivan’s bedroom, I can’t ignore the warm current that runs through my veins at the familiar scent. Spice and leather; the whole room smells of it.

After washing off the smoke and grime of the evening, I stand under the hot stream of water, letting the heat relax me. By the time I step out, the bathroom is filled with steam and the mirror is fogged up.

Ivan stands in the bedroom when I open the door, the steam billowing around me as it escapes the bathroom. He waves the cloud away as it reaches him, smiling.

“You really know how to enter a room.”

He’s undressed down to his slacks. The scars on his chest catch the dim lighting, reminding me of how dangerous this man smiling at me truly is.

His muscular body, a real-life molded god, wasn’t crafted by vanity, but necessity. Even standing still, he radiates power and force.

From the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of the folded-up leather on the bed—his belt.

“I couldn’t possibly have done something wrong while I was in the shower.”

“No.” He takes steady steps across the carpeting until he’s in front of me. “But the evening’s young.”

“You’re expecting trouble?”

“No.” He trails his fingertips lightly over my collarbone, then shoulder. “I’m expecting you to be my good girl, but sometimes you need incentive.”

He finds the edge of the towel that I’ve secured in place and pulls it free, unwrapping me and letting the towel puddle at my feet.

“You can’t just leave wet towels on the carpet,” I whisper as he moves even closer, the spice of his aftershave tingling my senses.

“I don’t give a fuck about the carpet.” He knuckles my chin upward, kissing me deeply.