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

I’m on edge. I haven’t had sex for over a week now, and no matter how many times I use my toy, it’s just not cutting it. Especially considering I’m in an internal war with myself because my mind keeps drifting to River.

It’s late afternoon, and I just left a meeting in the city. I watch the people around the car, bored by their busy, insignificant lives.

Friends shop with elbows linked together.

Lovers hold hands.

Parents cradle their babies.

All of these things are meaningless to me.

At least as I was raised to believe. Since Alek’s disappearance, I’ve found myself more curious as to what their lives might be like. I feel like someone looking from the outside in. All of these things I was raised to exploit and use as a weakness. Yet they all look happy.

I sigh and look at my phone. I’m busier than I’ve ever been, yet I’ve never been more bored with the mundane running of our empire. The shine of the diamond snake watch grabs my attention, and I smirk. Well, much to my irritation, there’s one person who has made it less boring, as much as he is disruptive.

I untuck my shirt from the hem of my skirt and lift it past my tits. I angle my camera and poke out my tongue as I take a pic of my tits on full display. Vance watches me through the rearview mirror but says nothing as I send the photo to River. The sooner he gives in to me, the sooner I can push away this confusion and uncertainty he raises in me.

And I royally need to be fucked.

“Vance,” I call out. “Find out where Mr. Bently is staying and take me to him.”

He nods through the rearview mirror as I hit call on Alek’s number.

Ring.

Ring.

Voicemail.

“Alek, what the fuck? I got my ass chewed out by the old bitch because of you. You need to come back home. She’s not impressed, and I don’t want to deal with her. She came to my house. You know how fucking weird that is in the first place.”

When I look out the window, honey-colored hair catches my eye. I’m surprised to see Dawson and his woman, Honey, strolling along. She’s laughing at something he says, and his smile in return… I’ve never seen him make that expression.

It fills me with loneliness because of the thought that I might be missing out on something.

Yuck. I shove that thought down. “Alek, you need to come home. I’m starting to go crazy, and not in my usual loveable way. Like in a weird-as-shit way. Like when you look at couples and babies and think it doesn’t look too bad.” I erupt into laughter. “Actually, fuck that, kids are still disgusting creatures. But something weird is happening while you’re not here.”

A somber thought crosses my mind. Something I’ve been in denial about since I found out Alek was chasing a woman. “Is that what you’re looking for, Alek?” Love? I can’t say the word out loud. It’s not something that Alek and I have ever discussed or even know how to navigate.

“Are you looking for a companion?” Was I not enough? We always have each other’s back. But now something is changing, and I can feel it fracturing inside me bit by bit, and I don’t know what part of me will remain. “I don’t care about you withdrawing money or the shitty situation you dropped me in. Please just call me back.”

I hang up, noticing the desperate plea in my voice. I brush a hand over my hair to make sure not one piece is out of place. Something is happening inside me, and it squeezes like a vise around my throat. I feel exposed, and without Alek, who will have my back?

I roll my shoulders back, internally laughing. No, I can do this on my own. Always have and always will. When I finally look up, I narrow my gaze on the familiar road.

“Vance, I clearly said I wanted you to take me to River’s address, not back home,” I reprimand him.

“Yes, miss. You see, the thing is…” he says as he turns into the driveway to the property beside mine. “Mr. Bently seems to have purchased and moved into the mansion beside yours.”

My jaw unhinges. “How could he—” I snap my mouth shut. Because River Bently can do whatever the fuck he wants, that’s why.

The steel gates open as we drive along the long hedges, and it irritates me how much River most likely expected this. I look at my phone and see he hasn’t yet replied to my text message, which pisses me off. Considering how many texts he’s sent me with nonsense about all the wild things he wants to do to me, and when I finally reply, not a peep from him.

Sharply trimmed hedges surround the three-story, light-brown mansion for privacy. In the ten years of living next door, I’d never been curious about my neighbors or their home. Now, I wish I knew the layout inside and out.

I see the edge of a pool through the hedges, and the Victorian estate presents itself with a beautiful facade. The front doors open, and he steps out. It’s evening now, and his front porch light is on, showing him dressed in black slacks and a white T-shirt, his tattoos on full display, snaking up his arms.

Motherfucker was expecting me.

“I’ll call you when I need you to pick me up, Vance,” I say as I unbuckle my seat belt.

“Miss, I’ll come with you,” he insists.

“No, don’t,” I say as I watch River come down the stairs and toward the car. My men go everywhere with me. It’s just how it’s been for a long time. And it’s always done me justice. But right now, I don’t plan on going anywhere that puts me in danger. Actually, scratch that, I hope he fucks me up.

River opens the car door, leans down, and peers at me.

“Anya.” He says my name correctly, and his gaze falls to my wrist. “I see you got my gift.”

“Buy a girl diamonds, and you may very well get laid,” I say to him. He eyes me before he steps back, waiting for me to get out of the car. I place one heel on the ground, followed by the next, and rise from the back seat. He closes the door behind me as I look over his estate.

“The house next door? Really?” I snark.

“Some might consider it a happy coincidence. Think of all the sleepovers we can have,” he says, trying to spook me.

“Just so you know, the last boy who tried to climb into my window got both of his legs broken by a baseball bat,” I warn, rather fond of the memory.

“Then whoever had the bat didn’t do a good enough job, because I would’ve aimed for his skull,” River says with a tight smile. When I look at him, I realize he’s not joking anymore.

“Come. I know you’re dying to know what my bedroom looks like,” he says as he grabs my hand.

My gaze lands on his hand holding mine, but he seems unfazed by my icy glare. “I very well expect you to be a squatter living in your own home. A mattress at best.”

He chuckles. “It’ll take you a lot longer than that to send me into bankruptcy, Tanya, but keep trying.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, hating myself for actually finding this fucker funny at times.

I can’t help but stare at his back as I follow him into the house. Even dressed, I can see the outline of his muscles. River is a powerful man, and he exudes power from every pore.

The house seems only half full of furniture as he leads me through the main living space and guides me to the staircase. I find myself peeking around every corner, and when I glance up, I realize he’s looking over his shoulder at me.

“I’m still waiting on the last of my furniture to arrive,” he states.

I bite my bottom lip, trying not to laugh. “Sure, you are. Or maybe you had to sell it off for this pretty thing,” I say, lifting my wrist to indicate the watch.

“Did it work?” he asks.

I shrug. “I’ve added it to my collection with all other items mortal men who fall for my trap have given me.”

“What a mighty collection you must have, Tanya,” he says dryly, and again, I find myself biting the inside of my cheek, amused.

He stops in front of a door and pushes it open, and I see a large king-sized bed in the center of the room. He walks in and sits on the edge of the mattress and kicks off his shoes as he looks at me.

“Why are you here?” he asks as he untucks his shirt and pulls it over his head, discarding it on the floor. I can’t help but take him in. His chest is covered in tattoos as well. He has an eight-pack, and his muscles create ridges under skin. Vance and Clay are large men, both with different body types but both as equally as fit as one another. River looks more along the lines of deadly, where my men look scary. There’s a difference.

He unbuckles his belt, pulls it free, and wraps it around his knuckles. When he takes his trousers off, I’m not surprised to see he doesn’t wear any underwear.

“Anya.” He says my name, and I realize I’ve been staring like a woman in heat. That’s because I am. I’m fucking craving his touch.

River has the upper hand, and it’s usually me who has the power in these types of situations. My body is rarely ever denied. I’m not used to this lack of control, and I think he knows that. Yet, here I am, without fully understanding why. To have sex with him so I can finally get rid of him, right?

“Why are you here?” River asks again, purposely making a show of the belt in his hands. A cold chill runs down my body. I want him just to scratch this itch.

“Why are you naked?” I wave a hand at him. He looks down at his body and his semi-hard cock. I avoid licking my lips at the sight of it. At the sight of all of him. River is a fucking pain in my ass, but God was generous when he built him.

“I was going to take a shower when you suddenly pulled up,” he informs me. And I know he’s fucking lying.

“You didn’t reply to my text message,” I say as I scan his room absentmindedly. “Thought I needed to remind you that a debt is still owed.”

“I might’ve not replied but I certainly made the picture my screen saver,” River says as he flashes a roguish smile over his shoulder as he strides to the bathroom. The light is automatic and comes on when he walks in. It fills me with a strange satisfaction that I can tease him from his screen saver every day. Also, with the knowledge that he’ll shoot a man if he so much as peeks at his phone. Not that I care if anyone else sees.

He reaches into the shower and turns on the water, and I know he’s taunting me. I stand there and watch as he gets in, stepping out of my sight. I take the opportunity to look around his room more thoroughly.

I find it strange that I’m a woman who takes control and dominates every man I meet. Yet now, in River’s room, with his lack of effort, I feel stubborn still trying to make him come to me. Every man does.

I search the room and notice a photo frame on his bedside table with a picture of a child in it.

Does he have kids?

Picking it up, I walk into the bathroom and prop myself on the counter. I sit on it with legs crossed, enjoying my view as a mixture of water and soap runs down his body.

“Have you come to sing to me, Anya, or join me?”

“Who is this?” I ask. He wipes a hand over his face, his muscles flexing as he does.

“My niece.”

“You have family?”

“My sister is dead. That’s her daughter.”

I look at the picture of them, my eyebrows knitting together. I think about the parents I saw today, happily playing with their children. The normalcy of lovers hand in hand.

What did I come here for? Sex. Why am I asking him about his personal life?

What the fuck am I doing? Why did I come here?

A chill runs down my spine, and suddenly I feel like I’m going to be sick. Surely, I didn’t come here for… companionship?

I’m not a woman who would chase a man, ever. It’s never been necessary. When I was old enough, I understood the power of attraction and knew I had it. So I used it. A woman has to use whatever is at her disposal to get where she wants in life. It’s easier for men. I wanted to make it easier for me. So I did.

Is River doing that very same thing to me?

“Anya, what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours right now?” he says as he rubs soap against his body, and I know he’s doing it on purpose. Every part of me is screaming to leave. But I need to ensure that I get exactly what I came here for. Because if I don’t, then that means I really did come here for companionship.

I hike up my skirt and widen my legs. “Not much thinking at all. Just wondering if you’re going to fuck me or not,” I say as I rub against my sensitive bud with my pussy on full display.

His jaw tics, and his facial expression changes. It gives me satisfaction to know that although he might’ve been in control, naked and looking like a god, I can take that power back.

I rub myself as he watches, and his cock grows harder. “I need you,” I say with an innocent tone.

A haunting laugh escapes him. “You don’t need anything or anyone, Red. Not yet.”

And it’s the challenge in his tone, the exasperation that he still thinks I will ever become his, that makes me want to run for the door just as quickly. If I fuck him now and a second time, then the contract is mostly done. Right?

I hop off the counter and saunter to the shower. He watches my every move as I open the door and step in. My white shirt immediately becomes see-through, and his hand automatically trails up my outer leg as he pushes my skirt farther up.

I suck in a breath as we stare at one another, more intimately than I have with any other. I grab his cock, and the cord in his neck pulses at my touch. I’m not the only one who’s been holding out.

“You could slip in those heels,” he growls and pins my back against the tiled wall.

“You’ll catch me, though, right?” I say innocently, and I can tell it’s working magic on him. Someone like River needs submission. An innocent doe, which is the furthest thing from what I will ever be. But I wonder if I tell myself that to keep him at arm’s length.

That startling realization hits me hard, but then his hand cups my pussy, and the worry falls away as he pumps me with a finger.

Neither of us looks away as we hold one another, trying to force the other to submit first. Trying to see who will break. I offer a smile and trail my fingers down his ridiculously chiseled stomach. Fuck me, it’s divine.

I rub against his hand, riding that single finger, hoping he adds more. I need more from him. His gaze dips to my pierced nipples on full display under the white shirt.

He grabs my throat, and the painful pressure causes a pounding in my core. Fuck, I want him.

“I’m not going to fuck you, Red,” he says, but I’m certain I can make him regret those words. Every man has fallen to their knees for me and given me exactly what I want, when I’ve demanded it.

River’s grip shifts as his thumb begins to stroke my jaw, and the touch feels different. Intimate. Gentle. I don’t let the uncertainty show on my face.

I fuck. That’s it. And I currently have an itch to scratch, and that’s all, I remind myself.

“Don’t you want to taste me?” I encourage, trying to divert his expression from how intensely he’s staring at me.

His head dips, and I’m startled by the feather-light touch of his lips against mine. My hand freezes on his cock as his tongue pushes against mine, demanding. I’m swept into him momentarily, wanting to curl my hands through his hair and pull him in.

I push him away and almost slip in the water on the floor of the shower. He catches me by my elbow, but I’m quick to break free and stumble out.

Fuck, I need to leave.

None of this makes sense. I shouldn’t be here.

A kiss?

When was the last time I let anyone kiss me?

River wraps a towel around his waist. “Anya?” He catches my wrist before I can escape. And for the first time, I feel a chill of terror run through me. Not because I’m scared of River but because of the way I feel myself changing around him.

“It was a mistake coming here,” I say.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion, but he releases my wrist and lets me go.

When I take my leave, he calls out my name again.

I grip the edge of his doorway, my red nails wanting to dig in to keep me here. A part of me knowing it should run.

Feelings. Alek and I don’t get them for other people. So why is my brother halfway around the world chasing a woman?

And when he does return, I may very well kill him for leaving me this long.

Because isn’t that what I’m doing right now? Chasing?

I have never been apart from my brother for this long, and I’m mistakenly craving something I’m missing, and I’m looking for it in all the wrong places. Namely, River Bently.

I shake my head and push myself out of his bedroom and go straight down the stairs. When I reach the door, I hear his voice from behind me.

“Tomorrow, Anya, you owe me. I’ll pick you up at three.”

I don’t turn back to look at him, because I know if I do, I’ll walk straight back up those stairs and into his arms.

Not because I want a hug or a kiss, I tell myself. Because I want to fuck him.

And that’s becoming a dangerous sentiment in itself.

“I’m busy tomorrow,” I shout back.

“I’m picking you up,” he shouts down the stairs.

“Don’t pick me up before five. I have plans!” I yell before I slam the door behind me.

My heart pounds as I walk out, shivering cold and still wet. I send Vance a text and start walking down the driveway, never looking back.

What the fuck am I doing here?

Have I lost my fucking mind?