Page 22 of Betrayal and Vows

I glance at Kira one more time. She nods, trying to look casual as she stretches on the couch like there’s nothing to be afraid of.

I open the door and immediately step back. My father fills the doorway. His steel-gray hair and eyes that miss nothing look me over. Behind him stand two of his personal guards, their faces expressionless.

"Dad." I force a smile. "I wasn't expecting you until?—"

"Where were you?" He steps into the room, his gaze sweeping over everything. The bathroom door still open, steam escaping.

“I got dizzy,” I say. “Too much champagne. I wanted to shower and lie down.”

He doesn’t believe me but if everyone is asking where I’ve been, no one knows.

“What have I told you about ditching your guards?”

I bite my lip.

"I didn't ditch them, Dad. I told them I was going to the bathroom and then I felt sick. I came upstairs to rest."

His cold gray eyes narrow. "The guards said you disappeared for over an hour."

"I was in the shower," I say, gesturing to my wet hair. "Ask Kira. She came up to find me."

Kira nods quickly. "She was throwing up when I got here. Too much Dom Pérignon on an empty stomach."

My father's gaze shifts between us, calculating. He knows something is off, but he can't prove it. Yet.

"The Orlov guards are not happy," he says finally. "They think you're trying to embarrass their family before the wedding."

"That's ridiculous. I would never?—"

"Wouldn't you?" He steps closer, and I swear he can see some kind of mark on me.

"I'm nervous about the wedding. Any bride would be."

"Any bride would be grateful." His voice drops to that dangerous tone I know too well. "Vadim Orlov is offering you a life most women only dream of. Power. Protection. A name that commands respect."

"I know, Dad. I'm grateful."

"Are you? Because if I find out you've done anything to jeopardize this arrangement..."

“I won’t,” I reply.

“You will not lose your guards again,” he says and then leaves.

I lock the door and turn to face Kira. She shakes her head. “I’m going to bed. Go to bed, Lena. No more.”

I nod once and walk back to my room. I collapse into bed and stare up at the ceiling.

I run a finger over my bottom lip. Swollen. Bruised.

I loved every second of it.

I close my eyes and see the way he looked at me. Like I washisand always had been.

I’ve been trained my whole life to follow orders, to smile pretty and say thank you while someone signs away my soul.

But one stolen night with Anton and I’m suddenly wondering—what if I didn’t?

What if Iran?