Deceitful Vows (Marital Privileges #2)

12. Zoya

12

ZOYA

I ’m hesitant to hand my coat to the hostess of Tsar’s. The wind today is like ice, but that isn’t the cause of my hesitation. My coat’s hem sits halfway between my knees and my ankles. My skirt’s hemline is far more indecent. It will be a struggle to sit without exposing myself, and the boutique beside the restaurant is closed until two.

Yesterday, I didn’t care about the scandalous rise of my skirt’s hemline.

Today, I can’t stop playing Andrik’s threat from last night on repeat.

Six? Don’t test me on six because I can guarantee neither you nor him will survive the outcome.

A shiver runs the length of my spine.

Don’t ask if it is a good or bad tingle, as I won’t know how to answer you.

Mikhail’s floppy hair tickles his ears when he slants his head my way. “Will you be right for a tick? Lynx is being a demanding diva.”

I return Lynx’s wave from across the hotel foyer I’m praying Aleena will visit sometime today, before I nod in silent assurance to Mikhail that I’ll be fine on my own. I have been for the past twelve-plus years, so I’m sure a few more minutes will be no hard feat.

“It will give me the chance to call Keet,” I reply, hating that he seems hesitant.

I thought I displayed an air of confidence I wasn’t reared to have.

Mikhail has me wondering if it is a ruse.

“All right.” He nudges his head past the check-in counter. “You should probably head toward the back, though. Reception is shit near the bar.”

He’s preaching to the wrong person. I missed three calls and six text messages from Nikita yesterday while waiting for Aleena, which added a ton of worry she doesn’t need to her shoulders.

I wait until Mikhail is halfway across the foyer before heading in the opposite direction. I know Nikita’s number by heart, but since it is my most frequently called number, I hit her name at the top of my call list and then raise my phone in front of my face.

Nikita answers two seconds later. “You were half an hour from being featured on the side of a milk carton.”

I sigh, loving how much she loves me, but I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t stir her. “Was it a paid gig? If so, I’ll call you back in an hour.”

Her laugh is lyrical gold—as is the question she asks next. “Is it pathetic to admit I already miss you like crazy?”

“Not at all. I’m extremely missable.”

The torn sheets she can’t afford to replace crinkle around her body when she rolls to project her voice away from the living room she shares with her grandparents. Their apartment is a one-bedroom dump, yet it is still ten times better than the place I call home.

“Gigi was extra talkative last night since she didn’t get to unload all her shenanigans on you.”

We giggle in sync when Gigi’s snarky tone rumbles through our phones. “I heard that.”

I lower my voice like my next lot of words are full of deceit. “I told you she isn’t deaf. She just pretends she is so we’ll talk freely around her.”

Nikita nods before she slips her hand under her cheek. She looks exhausted. That’s expected for any third-year surgical registrar. Her tiredness exceeds her counterparts since she works the equivalent of a full-time job on the side to stay one step behind her grandfather’s medical bills.

Yes, behind.

His medication costs more than her supervisor earns, but he will never be without it.

We will both make sure of that.

I just need to find a job so I can contribute.

Since that hasn’t been an easy task to cross off as I would have liked, I offer moral support instead. “How is Grampies today?”

Her love for the grandfather she was forced to share with me when we became friends shines brightly in her eyes when she smiles. “He’s having a good day. He misses you too.”

I sigh like a sentimental schmuck. “I’ll be home soon. I just figured while I’m here, why not give it one last shot?”

She knows who I’m talking about without me needing to spell it out. “You don’t have to convince me. Take all the time you need.” A spark of fear darts through her eyes. “Just be safe.”

“I always am.”

She spots my deceit from a mile out. Mercifully, I’m saved from explaining myself by Mikhail returning to my side.

“I need to go. Mikhail is here.” When I twist the phone screen to face Mikhail, he poses for the numerous screenshots Nikita takes. She isn’t storing them for future self-pleasing expeditions. She’s compiling evidence in case I go missing for real.

Further proof that her and Mikhail are too alike to ever be an item.

“I’ll call you when I leave.”

Nikita nods before telling me she loves me.

I return her declaration of love with the addition of an air kiss before disconnecting our chat.

“Brother from another mother?” Mikhail asks when he spots the adoration adorning my face.

Nikita is one of the strongest women I know. She just has no clue of her worth. I’m hoping to change that. I am just a little lost on how to go about it.

His face screws up when I reply, “Do I look like I have dangly bits between my legs?”

“I can’t tell from this angle.” His smirk gains him the worship of dozens of thirsty eyes. Not all of them are feminine. “Maybe you should let me check?”

I punch him in the stomach, winding him.

I wait for him to catch his breath before nudging my head to the bar brimming with hotel patrons despite the early hour. “Is everything okay with Lynx?”

My screwed-up expression jumps onto his face. “Two bar staff called in sick, and he’s having trouble finding replacements.”

When he leaves it there, I say, “So you’re going to ditch our brunch and help out your work friend, right?”

“Fuck no,” he instantly replies. “What kind of host would I be if I only fed you a glass of orange juice and half a shot glass of cum for breakfast?”

My elbow gets friendly with his ribs when his mouth falls open from my lack of objection. I ate more than cum, but it was the most delicious item on the menu, so I keep my mouth shut.

“Now his hesitation to leave this morning makes sense.”

“You spoke with Andrik this morning?” I almost said, He was hesitant to leave? But I went for the line that wouldn’t make me seem pathetic.

“Uh-huh,” Mikhail replies, guiding me inside Tsar’s. “Who do you think gave me the shiner?”

Once again, I take the non-desperate route.

It is a challenging achievement with how high my shock is.

“I assumed the Triple Threat Team liked it rough.”

“Oh, they did.”

His moan at the end of his statement has me tempted to pluck an umbrella from a stack near the hostess desk. Above-par batting averages may be the only way I survive the stampede we’re about to face.

“But Andrik has a temper as short as a matchhead.” A smirk curls his lips. “I may also get pleasure out of pushing his buttons.”

We’re seated at a table with a prime view of most of the hotel’s foyer. Mikhail waits for me to sit before he removes a napkin from the hostess’s tray and drapes it across my thighs, ending their uncomfortable press.

Once I’m suitably covered, he leans in close and whispers, “He took your underwear, didn’t he?”

His words are soft enough for only me to hear. They cause a fiery heat to creep across my cheeks that colors my tone with just as much vibrancy. “Will you call me a hussy if I say yes?”

“No.” He sits across from me before accepting a menu from the smiling waitress introducing herself as our server. Her roguish blush is as evident as mine when she drinks in Mikhail’s handsome features. He doesn’t pay her an ounce of attention. His focus is solely on me and my possible confession. “But it will tempt me to ask what makes you different from the rest. He’s usually a fuck-’em-and-leave-before-they’ve-finished-shuddering kind of guy.”

My stomach gurgles. I downplay it as hunger. “Can we eat before you tell me exactly how many times Andrik has used your private abode as a whore house? I’d like to have something to bring up when I vomit. I have issues with dryness.” The heat on my cheeks doubles when he chuckles. “Not like that.” I pick up the napkin and toss it in his face. “You’re disturbing.”

“And you are even more feisty when you’re embarrassed.” He leans back in his chair so the waitress doesn’t bump into him when she fills his glass of water. “Maybe that’s what attracted Andrik to you? My brother usually goes for the demure, quiet ones. You wouldn’t fit that criteria even if you had one foot in the grave.”

Brother?

As my eyes zoom over every morsel of Mikhail’s face, I’m steamrolled with stupidity. The signs are in black and white for all to see, yet also not.

They’re night and day.

Light and dark.

Similar yet unique.

They’re the very definition of a brother from another mother. I’d put money on it.

Mikhail quirks a brow when I say, “Now your lack of fear makes sense,” demanding further explanation. “You’ll survive his threat of disembowelment since you’re blood.”

“Blood isn’t always thicker than water.” He leans forward until his elbows balance on the tabletop. “And do you care to elaborate on what his threat entailed?” I don’t believe him for a second when he smirks. “I’d like to know which buttons to avoid.”

He wants to direct his arrow straight at them, not away from them. His smirk announces this, much less the menacing glint in his eyes.

I thank the waitress for filling my mug with a steaming hot brew as Mikhail’s curiosity gets the better of him. “He threatened future bed companions, didn’t he?” When I give him a look as if to say, I’ll never tell , he murmurs, “You don’t need to confess, Sunshine. The truth is all over your face. I’m just trying to determine why he’d say that and then do what he did.”

I’m lost but too exhausted to excavate with the intelligence it deserves. “What did he do? Leave me to pre-scrub your sheets before placing them in the wash because I had no clue you were related?” I hit him with a pointed stare. “You could have told me he was your brother. Then I wouldn’t have broken a nail wrangling a fitted sheet off your ginormous mattress.”

He laughs. It is unexpected from how uneasy the groove between his brow makes him appear. “And let him steal the honor I worked so hard to achieve? Don’t be ridiculous.”

The coffee I’m slowly sipping means it takes me longer than I care to admit to recall where I’ve heard those words before. It makes me sick when I unlock the vault.

My voice is too loud for our public setting when I ask, “You were watching us?”

Mikhail nods.

He. Fucking. Nods.

I appreciate his honesty, but still, I’m shocked by his nonchalant approach to his reply.

His eyes bulge when he understands the cause for my kick under the table. “Not that ,” he pushes out quickly. “What the fuck is it with everyone today thinking I’d get my rocks off watching my big brother…” He refuses to say his last word. He swallows the bile it instigated before lowering his voice to a more respectable level for our audience. “I saw your exchange in the elevator.” His words quicken when my snarl causes me to bare my teeth. “The pre-slap part of your exchange. Jesus, Sunshine. I’m not a complete fucking creep.” When I pfft him like I’m unsure if I believe him, he says, “I’m trying to be honest with you. I thought you’d rather that than base our friendship on the lies he must have tossed out to get you to?—”

He snaps his mouth shut like he said too much.

It’s too late for him, though.

His hand has been shown.

“What did he lie about?”

“Nothing.” He sits straighter and clears his throat. “I’m talking out of my ass.”

“You’ll be talking out of your ass with my foot lodged up it if you don’t go back to the honesty route you were endeavoring to get off the ground only seconds ago.”

I mimic his earlier pose. Elbows on the tabletop, eyes full of sorrow. It displays that I won’t let him fob off my interrogation any more than I won’t hate him for his brother’s actions.

His delay in responding is the equivalent of kneeling on shards of glass. It hurts, but not as much as his confession. “He’s married.” To ensure I can’t use the excuse of bad hearing for any future stuff ups, he repeats, “Andrik is married.”