by Kaye Blue
Vow
A Dark and Dangerous Romance
Kaye Blue
Vow
Copyright © 2019 Kaye Blue
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, and incidents are invented by the author or used fictitiously. Any similarities to real people, living or dead, businesses and business establishments, places, or events are entirely coincidental. This book is intended for mature audiences only. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Kaye’s Newsletter
The Past or the Future?
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
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The Past or the Future?
Ten years after the boy broke her heart…the man wants her back.
I was never a nice, normal guy, but for her I pretended to be. One look at her sweet eyes and sinful curves, and I was a goner.
But I could never tell her the truth. An innocent like her would never love the son of a crime lord, especially not one destined to take his father’s place. So when my real life came calling, I left her behind. Tried to forget her.
Failed.
All these years later, fate has thrown us together again. I know I should walk away, but when bullets start flying, my plan goes out the window. I’ll protect her, but she can never be mine. As soon as she’s safe, I’ll let her go.
Maybe.
After one last kiss…
Prologue
Ten Years Ago
“What should we do with the body?”
He looked at the man but didn’t respond immediately, though he had heard the question.
Instead he stared, unable take his eyes from his father’s lifeless body.
He lingered a second longer, but then, before the men could question him—or question him any more than he already knew they did—he responded.
“Have him sent home. Mother will want him to have a funeral.”
The man said nothing but began to wrap his father in a plastic tarp.
Like this was just an ordinary day.
In truth, it was.
Ivan wondered if he should be having more of a reaction, should feel something more like normal emotion.
Decided he shouldn’t.
His father had been preparing him for this day his entire life. Ivan had let himself think that maybe it wouldn’t come, but deep down, he had known it would.
And now it was here.
He accepted that, knew there was no other choice.
His only regret was that the inevitable came at such a high cost.
Before he could stop himself, he thought of her.
Leaving his real life, pretending to be a regular college student, had been a game, something he had decided to do before he took his place at his father’s side, and then, eventually, as head of the family.
But she had made his fake life real.
Had made him wish he were the man he pretended to be.
He wasn’t.
He wondered when she would figure it out.
Because she would.
His Tru was modest, but one of the smartest people he had ever met.
Soon enough she’d figure out that Peter Anderson was a fantasy, that the man who pretended to be him was a liar.
If he was lucky, she would hate him, then, eventually, forget about him.
It was the best thing, the only thing, for her.
Because while Peter Anderson was fake, Ivan Ivanovich was real.
And if Tru knew him, it would be her end.
He would never let that happen.
No matter what.
One
Now
Tru
“I’m just saying, Trudy. That thing probably has cobwebs by now.”
I laughed despite myself at Melissa’s upturned nose.
“First, the only person who can call me Trudy is my grandmother, God rest her soul. Second, and I don’t know how else to say this,” I said around giggles that I could barely suppress, “but the state of my vagina is not up for conversation.”
“It should be. She needs somebody to look out for her,” Melissa said.
I shook my head then took a sip of water. Melissa had encouraged me to get something stronger—lunch was on her company’s dime—but I’d stuck to water. Two-martini lunches were for the executives, not me.
“I’m not going,” I said.
“You’re going,” she responded, lasering her green eyes on my brown.
Those eyes had fooled many a person, as had the bouncy, bubbly blonde that Melissa pretended to be.
I’d known her for over five years and knew the truth. She was as sharp as a knife and an expert at getting what she wanted.
Usually that involved making sure the small clinic where I was medical director was funded. Her aim now was less noble.
“I don’t even know why you want me to go to a club with you. Do I look like a club person?” I asked, gesturing down at my navy skirt, white button-down shirt, and pearl necklace.
Scrubs or jeans were my favorite attire, but I’d dressed up today, needing to put on a good face for the donors. It had worked too. I’d stayed mostly quiet, let Melissa take the lead, and this lunch had secured two more years of funding for the clinic. It left me in an indulgent mood.
Melissa gave me a once-over and shook her head.
“That’s exactly my point. You’re not a club person, but you could be anything else you wanted to be, with the right guidance.”
“Melissa—”
She tilted her head but didn’t respond, both of us knowing where this conversation was headed.
“Fine. But I’m making it an early night,” I said.
She didn’t even have the decency to look surprised.
Not that she needed to. Whether it was listening to her man problems, or God forbid, helping her move, Melissa knew I would almost always give her whatever she wanted.
I knew it too, and for the most part didn’t mind. She worked hard to help the clinic, and over the years, we’d gotten to know each other better. She was the closest thing I had to a friend, and if nothing else, she kept me from sinking too deep into myself.
Giving into her demands now and then was a fair trade.
She looked at her watch. “That meeting went longer than I thought. It’s nearly six. So, you’re going to go home and change and meet me at my place in an hour?”
I shook my head. “Oh no. I’m not changing. I’m sitting on the couch while you get changed, and then we can leave in an hour.”
“Tru, you look like—”
“Like I have no business near a club?” I interjected.
“Yeah.”
She nodded, like that said it all.
“I don’t,” I responded, doing my best to keep the amusement out of my voice.
“Come on, Tru,” she whined.
“Take it or leave it.”
Melissa wrinkled her nose as she glared
at me but then relented.
“Fine. But they might not even let us in,” she muttered.
“Wouldn’t that be a tragedy?”
She rolled her eyes and then stood.
“I need to run up to the office and grab my stuff.”
“I’ll hang out here and meet you in the lobby in ten,” I said.
She nodded and then left the restaurant that was on the first floor of her office building. Melissa was the director of community outreach for a large insurance company, and I was grateful I’d met her.
I’d been a year out of my residency when I’d taken the job at the clinic. Resources had been scarce, and I hadn’t been certain we’d stay open. That had changed after I met Melissa. Things were always tight, but at least we had breathing room, and I didn’t have to worry about keeping the lights on.
It wasn’t glamorous, but the work was always stimulating, most of my patients were nice people, and I went to sleep every night knowing I’d done some good for in the world.
And that was enough for me.
I ignored the little ache in my chest, one that I refused to examine too closely.
I grabbed my laptop bag and purse, slipped on my sneakers, left the restaurant and headed to the lobby.
Melissa was waiting, and when I saw her excitement, I couldn’t help but smile.
Yeah, clubs weren’t my thing, but maybe this would be good for me. Besides, all I had to look forward to at home was leftovers and a good book.
“Am I seeing things, or do you look almost excited?” Melissa asked.
“You’re seeing things,” I said as we left the building and started to walk the thirteen blocks to Melissa’s apartment.
“No. You’re excited. You might not know it, but I do. And you’re glad I’m around to get you out at least twice a year.”
“Now don’t go thinking so highly of yourself,” I said, not trying to hide my smile.
She chattered the rest of the way home, hoping we’d meet someone famous and not suffer too many cheesy pick-up lines.
That wasn’t something I had to worry about.
I was confident enough, but I wasn’t the kind of girl who got hit on in clubs. Or anywhere else for that matter.
Which was fine.
The first and last time I’d gotten hit on had turned out disastrously.
I had learned my lesson.
I again pushed away the melancholy that threatened, unwilling to allow those thoughts of a long-ago past to get me down.
With force of will, I made myself smile, remembering my promise that I would never, ever, waste another day thinking of him or the lies he told.
“Make yourself at home,” Melissa said, hurrying toward her bedroom.
I flopped on the couch and waited.
An hour later, Melissa emerged from her bedroom.
The tiny scrap of red material bared her back and had a plunging neckline that showed her slim yet curvy figure to perfection.
“I approve,” I said, smiling.
“Thank you. You gotta let me take you shopping one day.”
“I’ll pass.”
“One day,” she repeated, stepping into her heels.
I just smiled indulgently and shook my head.
Melissa could get me to do most things, but this one wasn’t up for discussion. And besides, I didn’t want attention.
Not anymore.
Ivan
“Why the fuck am I here, Yuri?”
I’d made my way through the club, up to the VIP, and back to the private room where my cousin Yuri was waiting.
As always, I was flanked by my security team. An annoyance, but necessary for a man in my position.
I nodded at the team to fall back, and once they’d closed the door, I looked at my cousin again, waiting for an answer.
He flashed a smile, extended a drink toward me.
I didn’t take it.
“You need to relax, Ivan,” he said, offering the drink again.
I shook my head, and he shrugged then downed the drink himself.
“I need to know why I’m here,” I said.
Yuri always had an easy demeanor, but after I spoke, he turned serious, his pale blue eyes sharpening. My cousin had his flaws, but he had a nose for business that I couldn’t deny.
“I called the Italians for a meet,” he said, raking a hand through his blond hair.
“Why?” I asked, settling into the seat next to Yuri.
“I thought we could use a face-to-face. Make sure everything is good.”
“You have concerns?” I asked.
I’d given Yuri leeway to deal with the Italians, a concession to his ambition. I knew he wanted more responsibility, and while I maintained final authority, I allowed him some degree of control.
He and my aunt were my closest living family members, and Yuri and I had grown up together. He got under my skin sometimes, but we were blood.
“You can never be sure, can you?” he asked, leveling his gaze at me.
“No, you can’t,” I responded, leaning back into the chair, my suit jacket pulling at my shoulders.
I sounded like my father, something that chafed, but in this case it was unavoidable. Running this business and staying alive required constant vigilance.
“Why’d you pick this place?” I asked Yuri.
“Antonio likes to party, and did you see all that ass out there?” Yuri chuckled and I huffed out a breath.
He shook his head knowingly. “Like I said, you need to relax. Pussy will help.”
“Shut up, Yuri,” I said, checking my watch.
My cousin might have a point.
It had been eighteen, no, nineteen months, since I’d slept with anyone. The last encounter hadn’t been worth the effort, and I hadn’t bothered to find someone else.
The memory of soft dark skin, endless curves, flashed in my mind. My reaction was instant, my cock stirring in a way that it only did when I thought of her.
I narrowed my eyes, ruthlessly pushed the thought away.
She was gone. The man who’d loved her was gone.
There was only me now, Ivan, the ruthless crime boss.
I looked at my cousin and then stood when one of my men knocked on the door.
“Time for work,” I said, adjusting my jacket.
Two
Tru
“I’m telling you, you should trade those and for some of these,” I said to Melissa as we slowly made our way to the club, nodding at her stilettos and then nodding down at my own insanely sensible one and a half inch heels.
“Those are not going to catch me a husband.”
“No, but they’ll protect you from a broken ankle.”
Right on cue, she stumbled but quickly recovered, then glared at me before she snickered.
“The things we do for love.” She shrugged.
“Well, I hope you find it, or at least a suitable alternative,” I replied as we approached the club.
“I just think I might,” she said, her smile brightening.
It was hard not to be affected by the atmosphere. Even at this relatively early hour, the party was in full swing.
We had heard the music as we came up the block, and as we got closer and the crowd got larger, I felt my own excitement began to grow.
Pretty much everyone but me was dressed to impress, and while I wouldn’t say this was usually my type of crowd, I couldn’t help but smile.
Like always, Melissa had been right, not that I would tell her.
Getting out was good for me.
I’d been completely focused on my work at the clinic, threw myself into it and my patients, trying to make myself forget.
That needed to change.
I still had a life to live. It was time I stopped letting it pass me by.
I was somewhat stunned by the thought but then was excited by it.
I couldn’t make any decisions tonight, wouldn’t even try, but maybe, just this once, I could try to have some fun, which was somethin
g I hadn’t done in a very long time.
“The line is back here,” I called to Melissa as she walked toward the front door.
“Come on, Tru.”
She gestured at me to come over and then sauntered up to the bouncer.
“Go right on in, sweetheart,” he said, though the statement was directed at her cleavage rather than her face.
Melissa, ever the diplomat, simply smiled and shimmed through the door, but not before she grabbed my hand and pulled me in behind her.
The bouncer shot a dirty look my way, to which I responded to with a bright smile.
“What a creep,” Melissa said when we got inside.
“Yeah. But were in.”
“Aren’t we?” She was smiling so bright her cheeks were pink.
I looked around, impressed despite myself.
I wouldn’t say that I was an expert. In fact, knew I wasn’t, but this place was class all around.
I’d expected a dingy hole in the wall with sweaty bodies packed into every corner.
This place screamed class and expense.
“Pretty nice,” I said to Melissa.
“Yeah. Let’s go. I see somebody who is going to buy us drinks.”
I followed behind Melissa, certain that whoever it was wanted to buy her drinks, but I was willing to tag along.
I felt even more underdressed inside than I had out, but I also still didn’t care. I was happy enough to feed off the energy and atmosphere.
“What are you drinking tonight, beautiful?” a slick, stockbroker type who was leaning against the bar said before Melissa even stopped.
“Two champagnes,” she said.
Stockbroker gave me a two-second once-over but ordered the drinks.
