Cunning Vows: Enemies to Lovers Dark Romance (Lethal Vows Book 3)

How dare he? Who does he think he is?

I spend the next two days wanting to be fucked, and my nerves are shot because I need a release. And he teased me. I am not a woman who takes to teasing, yet I let him do just that.

It makes me so fucking mad.

How did I not know he was the supplier, and why did he not tell me when he first arrived?

I crack my neck from side to side, looking over the final documentation in one of my offices; this one is in central Manhattan, and it’s a particular favorite of mine. Consider it a front, if you will, for our many businesses. Usually, Alek would be standing behind me, but instead, I have Clay and Vance. The powerful man sitting across from me remains quiet as I sign off on the last piece of paperwork while we wait for the second man to arrive.

When I look up, Dawson is first to speak. “It’s been a while,” he says, looking around at the new painting I’ve hung. The room is simplistic, with dark wooden tones. He’s seated on a black leather chair on the other side of my desk, and I’m sitting on what one might describe as a gold throne. Call me dramatic, but I like a power play.

And after the run-in I had with River, I intend to gain every bit of my power and dignity back. I didn’t take him seriously before, but now I have no choice.

I take a casual tone with Dawson. We aren’t friends. I tolerate him and Crue at best, as they do me, but we respect one another’s businesses and how we co-run within the city. Dawson with his virgin auctions, and Crue, being head of the Italian Mafia, for keeping the riffraff out of the territory. We all have our role to play. But River being in town changes that.

“Yes, how is your plaything? All loved up, I guess?” I ask him. Dawson is a beautiful man, a stunning fucking devil. Though, what I’ve always appreciated about him the most is his business ethics. His auctions are known worldwide, and while mine are as well, his hold a different type of power.

“Yes, very. Honey is doing amazing.”

“Why are we talking about my sister-in-law?” Crue asks as he enters the room. Crue is Dawson’s best friend, and their wives are sisters. So sweet. I really don’t care; I’m just attempting to be pleasant.

“And the lovely Rya, how is she?” I ask Crue, thinking of the fireball criminal lawyer he took for a wife. She’s one of the best lawyers there is. I’m hoping one day I can get her on my team as well. And if my intel is correct, she’s due to deliver their firstborn any day now.

“Stunning as usual,” Crue says, taking a seat next to Dawson.

“That she is,” I agree.

“Considering my lack of free time, I’m assuming you haven’t called us both for no reason,” Crue says, adjusting his black dress shirt.

I’m reminded why I tolerate their companionship, because they don’t fuck around and get straight down to business.

“River Bently, aka the current pain in my ass, who for reasons unsaid I can’t immediately kill, is inserting himself into the city and dealings for his guns on the East Coast.”

“You called us in to discuss River?” Dawson asks, but he doesn’t seem entirely surprised.

“You don’t seem surprised. Is that because, by chance, you gave him entry into my auctions?” I drop my chin onto the back of my hand as I stare at him. But Dawson is one of the few men who don’t become uncomfortable under my cutting glare.

He casually shrugs with a charismatic smile. One I’m sure that melted his sweetheart. She and I are opposites.

“Some of us have friends, Anya, and I owed him a favor. Regarding business, he’s good at what he does. And being in business with him has provided a long-running profit for you and your brother, if my information is correct.”

Motherfucker. How did Dawson know about the supplier before I did? But I’m not surprised. I’m not even mad, really, that Dawson gave him access to my auction, considering it’s in the contract. And Dawson’s right; I’m also certain River would’ve found another way in no matter what.

“Have you dealt with him?” I ask Crue.

“I’ve had dealings with him in the past. He’s easy to work with, and his guns are always top quality. And, as Dawson said, he’s good at what he does.”

The problem I face is the agreement River’s put in place to pay off my brother’s interest. If I have to go with him for two business meetings, then we look like a united front. People come to me for meetings, not the other way around. And if River and I are associated, then people will assume he’s bought into our territory. I need to weigh the options as to which offers the greatest gain. Either I bring him in and permit him free rein to do business dealings for a cut or I dispose of him permanently. But I don’t want to tarnish our name by not honoring a business deal.

Dawson breaks me out of my thoughts as he says, “He’s been asking a lot about you.” He seems to be looking for some kind of reaction. When I don’t give him one, he adds, “He’s paid you?”

“He has,” I say bitterly. Sure, the fucker gave me a million dollars for a conversation, but due to unforeseen complications, we have surpassed that stage. Not that I would tell either of these fuckers that.

“And that means…?” Dawson lets the question hang.

“I may let him in,” I say, hating every bit of it. I’m literally backed into a corner. Not one I intend to stay in for long. But considering putting an outright hit on him is out of the question, I need to be cunning in other ways.

Despite my hatred for the man, there may be a lot of money made if I play my cards right. And that’s the one thing that I’ll put above my indifference of a person. What money can I make in the process?

“From what I’ve heard, it’s been well over one million that he’s paid you. Someone even mentioned ten million.”

Gossips. The lot of them. Dawson and River have probably spoken, but I’m not the least bit curious about what, especially if it includes me.

“Buy-ins are getting more and more expensive.” I smile.

“Keep it clean. We don’t need unwanted attention,” Crue adds.

I scoff. As if I’m going to let any man tell me what to do. And it’s slightly hypocritical of him to say that. “That’s funny coming from you. Did you not shoot your wife’s boss in the head?”

His jaw tics at the reminder. It’s not like he can kill him again, but with the look in his eyes, he would if he could.

“He took videos of my wife. Of course I did,” he says simply.

“So you’re saying, if it comes to a loved one, then it’s acceptable?” I sarcastically ask.

“Speaking of loved ones, where is Alek?” Dawson inquires. It’s a hard slap back into reality. “Not that we don’t love dealing with you, Anya, but it’s been months. Where is he?”

That’s the same thing I’d like to know.

Where the fuck is my brother? And why isn’t he at least returning my calls?

I look at my phone. My screen saver is a picture of us when we were just kids. Neither of us is smiling, but it’s the only one I have of us from back then. We didn’t have parents to keep memories of us. It was just us. So when I found this at my foster mother’s house, I took it and kept it and added it to my phone. It’s an image only I can see with facial recognition, because I’ll be damned if I let anyone see any type of weakness.

While those days were hard, knowing that I’ve had the same person all my life, even from the womb, I think has somehow gotten me this far.

And I hope it will continue to do so.

But now it leaves an empty space in my life. And a deeper unanswered question—why did he leave me behind?

Whatever his reason to leave, did he really not think I could help him? After everything we’ve built together?

“Has he run away?” Crue asks, and I don’t know how to answer that. I don’t know what he did. And I hate that, the not knowing. Imagine having someone in your life constantly and then one day they’re gone. I’m not referring to a life partner. I’m talking about someone I shared a womb with, for fuck’s sake. That is a different thing altogether. No life partner would ever come close.

At least that’s what I tell myself.

Maybe it’s different for Alek. He doesn’t really like to talk much as it is, and I’m the person he talks to the most. And even then, he uses as few words as possible.

“I doubt it,” I say.

I try my hardest to push the uncertainty down. I won’t show weakness, especially in front of these two men. But I owe them at the very least, the answers I can give, considering in their own silent way they’ve also supported me during this time.

Had I been in their shoes, I would’ve come for their business the moment I saw an opening. Then again, it’d take an entire army to take me down. It hardens my resolve to know they measure me as such.

“You believe he’s alive?” Dawson asks.

“Yes,” I say without hesitation.

“In danger?” Crue asks. I want to laugh. Alek in danger? Alek could kill all of us so easily. He is the most lethal person I know. And I know a lot of evil men.

“Never,” I say.

“I believe you. I doubt Alek could be in danger,” Dawson says. “My men still haven’t found information on his whereabouts.”

I let out a slow sigh. It’s the most I can manage to hide the exhaustion behind the mask. Both of them have feelers out, in addition to mine, and still nothing.

I wish I could say I’m surprised that not even the best have yet found Alek, but in my eyes, he has always been the best.

“Thank you for looking into it,” I say. An uncomfortable tension ripples through the room, and I hate the words on my tongue. My jaw tics as I straighten my back and lean into my throne. “If you hear of anything, let me know immediately. Until then, I’ll sort out the River Bently situation. But I’m not letting him in so you can make this into some kind of boys’ club.”

Dawson chuckles as they both stand. “Let me assure you, Anya, that none of us think our balls will compare to the size of yours. Boys’ club or not.”

“What a vulgar thing to say to a lady,” I retort, but I can’t help finding amusement and appreciation in his words.

I watch them leave, then check my phone. There’s a text from River.

River: I’ve been thinking about those perfect tits of yours all day.

I exhale a sigh. Is this really the fucker I’m considering letting in?

Absolutely not.

I need to find a way for River to accidentally trip and fall into the path of a bullet fired from one of his own guns.