Page 84 of Deceptive Vows
The Wolf looked up, a strange calm settling over his features. “Marco Moretti wasn’t planning on killing you and Pasha at first.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“It’s true. Once Marco figured out you were double crossing him, that’s when he contacted Sergei. That’s when the plan changed and Marco ordered the hit. Gabriele approved all of it. The brothers are working together, not against each other like they want everyone to believe.”
I nodded once, having suspected as much. “Thank you for your cooperation.”
As I walked out, I didn’t need to look back to know that Dimitris and Lex would handle the loose end. Some things were better left to silence.
In the hallway, my strength finally began to fail me. I leaned heavily against the wall, sweat beading on my forehead as black spots danced at the edges of my vision. Pasha was beside me instantly, his arm going around my waist to support me.
“You’ve done enough,” he said quietly. “You need to rest now.”
I wanted to argue, toinsist that we move immediately, but my body was betraying me, the pain and exhaustion becoming impossible to ignore.
“We need a plan,” Ari said flatly. “Rushing in will get our people killed.”
“I know the facility,” I managed to say, though my voice sounded distant even to my own ears. “It was on our watchlist for Sergei’s operations. I have satellite images, blueprints.”
Lucas studied me, then nodded. “Six hours. We plan, you rest, and then we move.”
I wanted to argue, but my legs chose that moment to give out entirely. If not for Pasha’s support, I would have collapsed to the floor.
“Four hours,” I agreed reluctantly as Lex came forward to help Pasha guide me to a small room off the main hallway where a cot had been prepared. “Not a minute more.”
As they helped me onto the cot, my hand instinctively went to my wedding band, the metal warm against my skin. The vows I’d made to Thea were mere hours old, but they burned in my blood like ancient oaths—unyielding, unbreakable. No matter the cost, no matter the blood spilled, I would keep them.
To honor and cherish, to protect and defend, to walk beside her in all things.
I had failed to protect her once. I would not fail again.
As exhaustion finally claimed me, my last conscious thought was of Thea. She would fight, I knew. Wherever she was, whatever they had done to her, she would fight. And soon, I would be fighting beside her again.
Four hours. And they'd regret ever touching her.
Chapter Thirty
THEA
Time crawledin the dim warehouse. Without windows at eye level, daylight and darkness blurred, marked only by guard rotations and the fluctuating quality of light from high, dusty windows. I’d been counting meals—two so far. Based on that and the changes in light, at least half a day had passed. Maybe more.
Last I saw Nazar, he was bleeding and outnumbered but still on his feet. I didn’t know if he was alive. I didn’t have the luxury of dwelling on it when I needed to get all of us out of here.
“They’re coming,” Elena whispered from the cage beside mine.
I resumed my position, hunched and defeated-looking, head down but eyes watchful. During my short captivity, I’d built a mental map of our prison—ten cages arranged in two rows of five, facing each other across a narrow concrete aisle. A single heavy door led in and out, with three cameras watching from the corners, their red lights constant reminders of our surveillance.
The door swung open with its familiar metallic groan. Roman entered first. A tall, lean guy. Behind him came Viktor, stockier and older, his gait slightly uneven from what could have been an old injury.
“Evening check, ladies,” Roman called, his Russian accent thick and mocking. “The big day is almost here.” He slapped his hand against the bars of the first cage, startling Alexa, the sixteen-year-old who’d been drugged after my arrival.
My fingers curled around the small piece of metal I’d worked loose from my cage, now concealed in my waistband. It wasn’t much, barely two inches long with a jagged edge, but it was solid and sharp. It was better than nothing since I'd lost my knife in the crash.
Viktor approached withthe evening meal, stale bread and lukewarm water, sliding trays through the slots at the bottom of each cage.
“Look at the bride now,” he sneered, pushing the tray toward me with his foot. “Not so high and mighty anymore, are you?”
I said nothing, which did not satisfy him. It was better to let them think their tactics were working and that I was no longer a threat.
