Savage (Wicked Vows #6) Read Online Jane Henry

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Wicked Vows Series by Jane Henry
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
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God.

We need to get her married off sooner rather than later.

“I have to head back to Renata. We’ll catch up later.”

I don’t miss the way both of them laugh behind my back.

They can take this all lightly if they want to.

I don’t have that privilege.

There was a reason we were attacked. There was a reason she was in Colombia.

My family will stay safe no matter what.

“So she can tell when people are lying?” Viktor asks, scratching his chin. “Can you get her to question herself?”

I give him a withering look. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Viktor leans in closer, his expression serious. “If she starts doubting her own abilities, it could throw her off balance. Make her more manageable.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about, Viktor?” I shake my head, my frustration at everyone and everything boiling over. “This isn’t some game. She’s not some pawn we can manipulate or fuck around with. She’s going to be my wife.”

My wife.

He shrugs, unaffected. “Desperate times call for desperate measures. We might need to use every advantage we can.”

I glare at him. “No.”

I don’t even know how that would work, but I want no part of it.

“Aw, Ollie’s grumpy again,” Polina says. “Here, Ollie, hold a sleeping puppy. I promise it’s the cure for what ails you.”

Christ.

I have the cure for what ails me, and she’s upstairs laying clothes out, waiting for my next command.

I turn on my heel and walk away before I lose my cool and say something I regret. As I head back to Renata, the weight of responsibility presses down on me. I have to protect my family, no matter the cost, even if that means making impossible choices that might tear me in two.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Renata

Every second that passes is like a ticking time bomb. Every heartbeat that passes brings us closer to destruction.

God. Carlos is on the move. It sickens me to know I’m going to hear from him and terrifies me that I haven’t yet.

I have to get married. That’s the next step forward.

I find some toiletries and quickly wash my face, brush my teeth, and run my fingers through my hair. I hear the door open. When I go to exit the bathroom, Ollie storms in, looking murderous. Fury burns in his eyes like a storm about to break.

I face him head on. “Someone storm the castle? Attack the moat?” I tip my head to the side. “Has your armor rusted?”

“I told you I didn’t want the dog on our bed.”

I have to admit, there's something about clean, freshly shaved legs and minty breath that perks me up a little bit, so much so that I almost forgot that I have a steely-faced future husband right in front of me. But whatever would've disturbed me quickly evaporates when I see my fluffy little fur-ball. He’s wagging his tail and licking Ollie's hand. Before he catches me looking at him, the tension between his brows softens just a bit. We’ll soften him yet.

“Well, Polina watched him, and then he fell asleep. Also, we need a name.”

He shrugs and mutters with a curl of his lip, “So dog isn’t original enough?”

“How about… Princeton? I like Princeton.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Sounds like he needs a stroller and a diamond collar.”

“I can arrange that.”

He grunts, turning away from me as he walks to the dresser and rifles through the clothes. “Yeah, somehow, I find that very easy to believe. Polina’s got a dog sitter and bought a bunch of shit for him.”

Aww.

"It’s time to go. You’ll wear a dress I pick out and nothing underneath.”

My belly flips, but I play it off with a toss of my head. "Oh, how original," I snap, which earns me a hard smack to the ass.

“Haven't gotten to the original part yet, Renata," he says with a growl. "I have another delivery of sorts that's on its way.” Turning me to face him, he brushes his fingers over my chin. “Be patient, little Renata."

I should be offended. It should feel demeaning, but I remember the man behind the fury—the one who saw me, not just the danger that presses in on us. I remember how he would occasionally let his guard down and talk to me, person to person.

I remember all of it. Sometimes, I wish that I didn't.

I lift the sleek, sleeveless dress he hands me and step into it. My breasts fill it out well as I smooth it down and slide on a pair of flats. The fabric is forgiving. It lifts and tucks in all the right places. "Nice choice."

I walk back to the bathroom and do a quick braid in my hair, bringing the thick plait to hang over my shoulder. I snap on gold hoops, a gold necklace, and a little bracelet. I'm pretty much feeling like myself already, even though I would really appreciate shopping for myself instead of relying on the charity of someone who hates me.


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