Vow of Deception: A Dark Marriage Mafia Romance (Deception Trilogy Book 1)

Lia hasn’t been herself since we sat down for dinner.

Her body is rigid, and every now and then, a shudder grips her and she drops her fork. Then she picks it up again to drag it through her food. Her hands are moving, but she rarely brings anything to her mouth. Since she came from the streets, meals have been sacred for her.

Not this one.

I knew bringing her here wouldn’t go completely without problems. When I saw her talking with Damien and Kirill earlier, I fantasized about the million ways I wanted to cut both those fuckers’ throats, but I settled with tapping my fingers against my thigh to not show disrespect to Sergei. Or worse, give him an incentive to attack.

He’s been focused on me more than usual tonight, and the last thing I want is to confirm whatever is going on through his head.

Vladimir, who’s now sitting across from me, hasn’t addressed me the entire night. He’s huge, bulky, and has a beard that gives him a scary appearance to the outside world. The only time he speaks more than needed is when Rai is in sight. He pledged to protect her and the Sokolov last name from a young age. That’s basically his driving force, which means he doesn’t concern himself about other matters.

While I haven’t figured out his angle about me, I know his loyalty runs deep for Sergei because of his last name. If the Pakhan gives an order to eliminate me, Vladimir will be the first to make it happen.

At the dining table, there’s an easy chatter in which he doesn’t participate and just nods when Rai whispers something to him. Kyle quickly steals her attention because he doesn’t like her talking to anyone but him.

A small sigh leaves Lia, and even though I make it my mission not to look at her in public, I’m tempted to sneak a peek. It’d be a break in my pattern, something that Vladimir, Rai, and especially that fucker Kirill would notice.

My high alertness about this night is turning me into a paranoid dick, like Mikhail.

In the six years I’ve been married to Lia, I’ve treated her like a stranger in public. Everyone in the brotherhood thinks she means nothing to me, and that the only reason I have a sickly doll-faced woman by my side is because of an unplanned pregnancy.

Sergei didn’t shy away from suggesting that I should leave her—even to her face. That’s why I made use of every chance I had to not bring her here. Sergei and the other elders, Igor and Mikhail, never approved of her unknown origins or her ‘nobody’ status. They preferred I marry Igor’s daughter and procreate to produce a ‘pure’ Russian bloodline.

Their aggression toward her is tangible, that’s why I didn’t want to give them more tangible reasons to act against her. She’s not to draw their attention to herself. At all.

Lia releases a second sigh and I lean in, pretending to grab a piece of bread as I whisper, “What is wrong with you?”

She flinches, her hand fisting around her fork as she meets my gaze with her wide one. “Why are you asking?”

“You haven’t been paying attention or eating.”

“It’s n-nothing.”

“Lia,” I warn under my breath.

“It’s Jeremy,” she blurts. “I’m worried about him.”

I don’t believe her, not because she’s not concerned about Jeremy, but her tone suggests it’s only an excuse.

She secretly touches the side of my jacket, her nails digging softly, almost hesitantly, into the material. “Can we go home?”

I don’t miss the way she calls my place ‘home’ or how her voice shakes around the word.

She probably considers it one because of Jeremy, but I still take a moment to let that word sink in as I stare at her. At her desperation and the way she’s breathing heavily. There’s definitely something wrong with her, and I’ll figure it out, but that’s for later.

Shaking my head once, I say, “I have a business meeting to attend.”

She drops her hand from my side and focuses back on her food, shoving a forkful in her mouth. I force myself to look away from her because she’s had my attention more than I like to show.

I catch Kirill’s smirk from my peripheral vision. He’s sitting on my left, licking his fork and wearing a cunning smile. The motherfucker.

For the rest of the dinner, I don’t glance in her direction again, even when I catch her stealing glimpses at me, begging me with her eyes to take her and leave.

There’s nothing I want to do more than that, but Sergei has called for a meeting after dinner. Not only for the elite members of the brotherhood, but he also asked the heads of the other crime organizations to join us. As a show of respect to Igor’s rank, he invited Lazlo, the Don of the Luciano family, and his underboss. There’s also Kai, the second-in-command of the Yakuza branch in New York, and his leader, Abe, an old man who has the temper of a silent mountain. Yet he’s been actively bugging Damien during the entire dinner, something for which our own black bull is about to shred the table to pieces. He has absolutely no patience whatsoever when it comes to using diplomatic methods.

A few other members from the Triads are also seated at Sergei’s table. I need to be at that meeting tonight. Which means I have to leave Lia again. Under the circumstances, that’s the last thing I want, but at least Kirill and Damien will be there with me and I won’t have to worry about them.

Yan has been given clear orders to keep an eye on her from afar.

As soon as dinner ends, everyone stands. When Lia gets up and starts to follow me, I say, “Stay here,” without turning toward her.

If I see her, if I get caught in her soft features and those sad blue eyes, I’ll be tempted to touch her. It doesn’t help that I haven’t gotten my fill of her over the past few days so she won’t cut her lip anymore.

“Adrian…” she murmurs.

“What?” I say harshly, still not looking at her, because now both Sergei and Kirill are standing there watching me instead of heading to the meeting.

“I want to tell you something.”

“Not now.”

“But…”

“Not now, Lia.” My tone is low and firm, offering no room for negotiation.

I don’t see her, but I can feel her going rigid behind me.

When I make a move to leave, Kirill and Sergei finally turn around and go upstairs to his office, where the meeting will be held.

I follow after but stop at the base of the stairs to glance at Lia and make sure she’s in Yan’s full view. Rai is linking her arms with her, leading her to a buffet section. I don’t want that woman anywhere near Lia, but at the same time, I can’t interfere and make myself noticeable.

Yan is standing about ten feet behind and nods at me when I meet his gaze. While he’s been a pain in the ass lately, I can at least trust he’ll keep her safe.

Kolya stops next to me and whispers in my ear in Russian, “Lazlo is coming, sir.”

“Go before me.”

My guard does as he’s told and I synchronize my steps so that Lazlo and I are the last ascending the stairs. His guard and underboss are one step ahead of us after having gotten the message from Kolya. We strategically planned this so that our talk can take place on the stairs with no one suspecting us.

Lazlo Luciano is around the same age as Sergei, but not as sickly. His hair is completely white and he has a scar over his cheek from when someone wanted to carve his face with a knife.

No one knows the fate of that person or why he did it, but there’s a rumor that Lazlo let them go. A rumor that meant weakness, and the Italians did all they could to prove it wrong.

“Long time no see, Adrian,” he speaks with an Italian accent.

“Indeed,” I counter with a Russian one, to highlight my roots.

“Are my clubs and house beneath you now?”

“Of course not, Don. I’ve been busy.”

“Busy.” He raises a brow. “Busy with what, Volkov?”

“Bratva business.”

“That didn’t stop you from paying me a visit before.” He gives me a sideways glance. “Are we falling from each other’s grace?”

“No, but I might be falling from Sergei’s grace.”

He pauses, weighing the severity of the statement. “How come?”

“You already know, Don. Richard Green’s death serves you, not the brotherhood.”

“Yes, yes. But we can make it work, no? The ball doesn’t always need to be in your court, Adrian.”

“If you don’t pass it, you won’t have an ally in me anymore, Don.”

“Are you threatening me, Volkov?”

“I’m laying down the facts so you can choose wisely. If you don’t give us a share in your new candidate, Sergei will suspect I’m betraying the brotherhood. That means my death.”

“He wouldn’t kill you over something like this.”

“He would. He’s already searching for my replacement. Igor’s eldest son, Alexei, is the prime candidate.” He’s not actually, but it’s an incentive to convince Lazlo of how serious this is. Igor doesn’t like Lazlo because of an old grudge, and Alexei follows in his father’s footsteps. If Lazlo loses his strongest ally within the brotherhood—me—he will have no one to fall back on.

He’s gearing up for a new venture with one of the most notorious cartels in Columbia. The last thing he needs is a strained relationship with us or a domestic war. I use all the facts I know about him and his business plans to my advantage.

“Are you expecting me to share my cake, Volkov? We worked so hard to finally expand our reach, and now you’re telling me I need to give it up?”

“Not give it up. Use it wisely.” I pull back when Damien ascends the stairs behind us, accompanied by the Japanese.

He doesn’t pay attention to these things, but Kai does. His dark eyes roam over me and the small meeting I just had with Lazlo before he nods in a show of respect.

He’s also Rai’s ally, in a way, and for that reason alone, I don’t trust him. Sergei, Rai, Vladimir, and Kyle are all one package. If they put their minds into destroying me, it’ll have more impact than anticipated.

If it were any other time, I would’ve taken them all on and taught each and every one of them a lesson. I would’ve used my system to destroy them before they were able to touch me.

However, this isn’t only about me anymore.

The meeting goes well for the most part. The reason behind it is nothing but the strengthening of the brotherhood’s allies with the Luciano family, the Yakuza, and the Triads. It’s the same washed-up talk that Mikhail, Sergei, and Igor lead. Kirill speaks up, too, because he likes to appear to be a good sport. Damien spends most of the time smoking and pushing away Abe’s advances to pour him a drink. Vladimir is watching me. He’s being discreet about it, but I was taught by my mother to know when someone is a threat, even when I don’t see them.

I remain silent, as usual, unless Sergei asks for my opinion. Tonight, he’s out to throw jabs at me. I would’ve dismissed them any other time, but my unease about this night is once again filling with paranoia. A feeling I usually squash before it creeps into me.

“Adrian has the best relations with the Italians,” Sergei states. “How did that come about again?”

He knows, but he wants me to say it. “I helped the Don once.”

“What type of help?” It’s Vladimir who asks this time.

“He saved my life,” Lazlo says proudly. “The night of an attack on my club, I was swarmed by the fucking Rozettis and nearly died, but Adrian, who happened to be there by chance, saved me.”

“By chance.” Vladimir’s eyes slide to me. “You don’t believe in coincidences, though, do you, Volkov?”

“Coincidences happen.” Kirill throws his hands dismissively. “If it weren’t for coincidence, I wouldn’t have been born.”

“I’ll drink to that. To Kirill’s coincidental fucking existence.” Damien raises his glass and everyone else follows.

The subject shifts from me to other crime-related topics that usually include drugs and shipments and customs.

Kirill gives me a look that says ‘you’re welcome’ but I ignore him.

Once the meeting ends, I’m more than ready to take Lia and go the fuck home. On my way outside, Vladimir falls in step beside me and whispers in Russian so only I can hear, “I know you had something to do with Richard’s death.”

“Proof?” I remain calm.

“I will find it, and when I do, you’ll count your fucking days, Adrian. I’ll finish your life with my own hands.”

“Good luck, Vladimir. I mean it.”

And with that, Kolya and I storm down the stairs.

“Have you checked on Yan?” I ask.

“I just told him to take Mrs. Volkov to the car. They’ll be there before us.”

I hasten my footsteps until I reach the parking lot. Kolya hesitates behind me, staring at his phone.

“What?”

His brow furrows. “The car is moving.”

“What do you mean, it’s moving?” I stare at the GPS on his phone and, sure enough, our main car has already left the mansion.

I retrieve my phone and call Yan. The ringing on the other end of the line are the longest, most excruciating I’ve ever heard.

When the call is finally answered, there’s rustling, panting, but it’s not Yan’s voice that greets me. It’s Lia’s, soft and in a small whisper-shout. “Yan! Yan, open your eyes!”

I don’t speak, because I don’t think she’s alone. I don’t want to give her away for talking to me.

“Yan!” she shrieks. “Adrian and Kolya will be here. They will help.”

“Shut up, bitch,” a voice says in the background and then she screams.

The line goes dead.

I grab it in a tight hold, my jaw clenching so hard, it’s about to snap.

“What happened?” Kolya asks in an unsure tone.

“Lia’s been kidnapped.”