Deceitful Vows (Marital Privilages #2) Read Online Shandi Boyes

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: Marital Privilages Series by Shandi Boyes
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Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
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Mikhail’s laugh is still ringing in my ears when I slide into the back door of one of the many maintenance vans siding Zoya’s building.

With the amount of coin KADOK Industries has been throwing into this side of Myasnikov, a late-night inspection from a building supervisor was an easy cover. I just had to keep Zoya’s moans to a minimum.

That wasn’t easy, and the remembrance tightens the front of my pants.

I try to downplay it, though. The last thing I need is for my crew to think I am weak. We’re putting in steps for the biggest coup of the century. I can’t lose their faith now.

“Anything?”

Konstantine peers up from a laptop he is rarely without. He takes in my crumpled shirt and trousers before slowly shaking his head. “Not a peep.”

I sigh, relieved. I took a risk coming here last night. My grandfather is in town, which means the top-tiered members of the federation are only steps behind him, but it had been too long since I’d heard Zoya moan my name and had her heat wrapped around my cock. I couldn’t set aside my needs for a second longer.

I ticked off the first half of my wish list within minutes of arriving at her apartment. The latter will have to wait. I want Zoya floppy with sexual exhaustion, not alcohol. Last night, part of our exchange swayed toward the latter.

As I slot into the driver’s seat of the van, I say, “Keep ears close to the ground. If news of my visit to this part of town circulates, I’ll have Kolya organize a press release.”

My father’s pledge last election was more affordable housing for his less wealthy constituents. His promise got him elected, so it is only right his favorite son helps him uphold his pledge.

When I check the side mirror to make sure I can pull onto the street safely, a woman in a sparkly gold dress captures my attention. I’m not perving. What interest could I have in another woman when the arousal of the very definition of a goddess is still on my lips? It is recalling where I’ve seen her before, and how a refresher in my attitude could help me more than disadvantage me that secures my devotion.

“And reach out to Lilia. I need her help with something.”

Konstantine grunts in understanding as I pull onto an almost isolated street.

30

ZOYA

My heart beeps in my neck when my brief scroll of the social media site I only joined an hour ago has me stumbling onto an event I’ve been seeking for the past two days. It isn’t “the” event, but it is one of the biggest indicators that Shevi’s confession was true, and that nothing that happened after it was imagined as my groggy head tried to convince my heart.

Aleena is getting married, and her bachelorette party is only two short weeks away.

I searched Aleena’s name for hours after I woke up to an empty yet spicy-scented bed the morning following my botched interview. Nothing came up. Not a single thing. The search results were as blank as I tried to make my hazy memories from the night before.

I was beginning to wonder if Aleena had changed her name like I had when I was forced to grow up years too soon, and then a similarity for the upcoming nuptials presented.

Almost every article started with the groom’s name followed by “and his fiancée.” Not even the brides with as much wealth and power as their male counterparts were mentioned by name.

It reminded me that Russia still has a long way to travel before it can remove bigamist from its dictionaries, and although my life isn’t close to glamorous, it could be worse.

I could be so worthless to Andrik that not a single article of our quickie marriage made it to print.

I hate admitting this, but when my search of Aleena’s impending nuptials failed to yield a single result, I switched my focus to the man responsible for the furious thud raging through my body.

Andrik is a common name in Russia, but its upsurge in popularity over the past twenty years didn’t hinder my search. I couldn’t find a single press release about his wedding, much less an in-depth article, and mercifully, I located no other “family” announcements, either.

Guilt will always crash down on me when Andrik’s devastating blue eyes and cut jaw enter my thoughts, but I’d rather be a mistress than a homewrecker.

My skin quivers with more than annoyance when Nikita sneaks up on me unawares. “Whatcha looking at?”

Once I’ve ensured my heart stays in my chest, I twist my phone screen around to face her.

Her eyes gleam as brightly now as they did when I arrived with a ton of greasy breakfast treats one of my elderly neighbors was going to throw out if I didn’t accept them. She had cooked too much for a family gathering, so she distributed trays of leftovers to everyone in our building. I was still reeling in the effects of a horrific hangover, so there was no way I was going to say no to crispy strips of bacon. It was also nice to shower Nikita and her grandparents with treats for a change. They’re usually always feeding me.


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