Misguided Vows: Chapter 16

I can do this. I mean, it’s for a fucking plane.

Not sure what I would do with a plane, but I’m willing to find out.

Shit, do I have to pay to maintain a plane?

Maybe I should have asked questions first.

Fuck it.

I brush my hands down my skirt and approach the man Will pointed out. When I step up next to him, he’s removing his suit jacket. I notice a few tattoos that skate up his arms beneath the rolled-up shirt.

“Excuse me,” I say, and he lifts his head and meets my eyes.

Oh, he’s beautiful. His eyes are a mix of blue and hazel, his hair is dark, and he watches me as if he can see straight through me. And he also gives me the vibe that I shouldn’t be approaching him.

“Yes?” he answers, looking me up and down. Not in a leering way, more as if to make sure I have nothing on me.

Weird, but okay.

“So, I have this guy over there.” I point behind me. “Just don’t look, okay?” He nods, and I pull out a seat next to him. “Anyway, we made a bet. I was hoping you could help me fulfill this deal,” I explain.

He picks up the silver knife beside him. At first, I think it’s strange, until I realize he’s shifting it back and forth to get a glimpse at Will. When he does, a small sigh escapes him.

“What type of deal?” he asks, leaning back into his seat.

His phone lights up, but he makes no move to touch it.

“I want you to give me your number,” I tell him. He raises a brow. “And in doing so, I’ll pay you.”

“You’ll pay me?” he asks, somewhat amused. “For my number?”

“Yes. Not right now because it’ll be obvious to my friend, but I can transfer the money afterward because I’ll have your number anyway,” I state, smiling.

“Just one issue,” he replies, raising one finger. “Not that I don’t want to help you, but if you turn around right now, you’ll see my wife standing behind you. I suggest you don’t speak, because she has a habit of stabbing people.” I tense.

He stands and holds out his hand, gesturing toward his wife. I sit frozen in place, realizing I’ve probably taken her seat. In my periphery, a delicate hand with red painted nails clasps his hand, and as he pulls her into him, piercing green eyes glare at me.

“This is Anya Ivanov, my wife,” he says. “And I’m River Bentley. Now, let me get my number for you.” He reaches for a napkin.

“N-no, please. It’s fine,” I stammer.

“You said you had a bet with him, didn’t you?” he asks.

“A bet?” Anya asks with a slight Russian accent, her gaze narrowing. When I look at her properly, I realize her red hair is impeccable, slicked back in a tight bun, and she’s clad in a dress with a slit up the side. And she definitely looks like she could stab me. But she also reminds me of someone I’ve met before.

“Yes, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t hitting on your husband. The man I’m dining with made a bet with me.” I clear my throat. “If I got your husband’s number, he would give me a plane.” Her gaze immediately drifts over to Will, even though I hadn’t told her which man. Fuck, am I going to get us both killed? Her gaze narrows and her high heels click-clack as she approaches Will. He just sits there and waves.

“You,” she says, looking over her shoulder at me. “Come with me.” She indicates with her finger and turns back to Will’s table. If she’s not going to slap the smug expression off his face, then I fucking will.

That’s if she doesn’t murder us first.

I’m not intimidated by too many people, but I would avoid this woman at all costs.

In a few short steps she reaches Will. I come up behind her and look down at him apologetically, that is until she speaks.

“You set this up, now give the fucking woman her plane,” she demands, and Will adjusts his glass on the table with a shit-eating grin.

Realization dawns on me then.

He knows her.

That means…

I look over my shoulder to find River smiling as he watches his wife. He’s sitting back down, as if getting comfortable, as he takes in the show.

“Come on, Anya. It’s a little funny. I had to see her try, even though I knew he wouldn’t give it to her.”

“I’ll chop off your fucking cock and feed it to my dogs if you pull a stunt like this again,” she replies, her Russian accent thickening with her anger.

“Your dogs love me.”

What the fuck?

“You know each other?” I ask, my own irritation spiking. At him, as usual.

“Yes. River and I go way back, and as you can see, Anya is quite fond of me too. Unfortunately for you, it looks like you lost the bet, milady,” Will says in mock apology. “My hotel room or yours?”

I snap. I’m so fed up with this man and his games.

“Fuck you.” I reach for my glass of water and throw it at him, glass and all. He moves out of the way and it misses him. His smirk never leaves his face.

“You’re more well-tempered than me, I would’ve gone for a knife,” Anya interjects, and I’m reminded that I’m in a restaurant. People are staring now, but River and Anya don’t seem particularly bothered.

Anya reaches into her pocket, pulls out a card, and hands it to me.

“This is my husband’s number.” I stare at the card. Then she turns back to Will. “Now, give her the fucking plane,” she orders, then returns to her husband.

I grab my purse from the table and walk away. Fuck this guy and his games. I pass River and Anya, who are watching us, on my way out. I don’t make eye contact, just in case she decides it’s time to kill me after all.

“Alina,” Will calls out after me, but I ignore him as I step out into the crowded entranceway where people are lining up for the restaurant. I don’t know where exactly I am or where I’m going, but it doesn’t matter, as long as I’m storming away from that asshole.

My phone starts ringing, and I look down to his sister’s name on the screen. I’m fucking furious, and I know that answering isn’t a good idea. But I’m so fucking mad at this asshole.

I answer it, growling, “Your brother is a total asshole.”

Maria laughs as I seethe. “Yeah, that’s the impression he gives people,” she says. “Why what did he do this time? And why are you two even hanging out? Did you have to do a group dinner with his friends that own the store or something?”

Where do I even start? The bet? Staying at the same hotel room? The—

My phone is snatched from my hand as I try to wave down a cab.

“Hi, baby sis, I’ll call you back. Right now, I have to calm down my date,” Will says, then he hangs up the phone.

“Date?” I bark at him as I try to reach for my phone, but he dangles it above me. “I am not your date, you fucking idiot.”

“Calm down,” he soothes with that half-cocked smile.

“No woman has ever calmed down in the history of calming down with a man telling her to do so. You are such a fucking idiot,” I scream, and people around us stop and watch. They begin to whisper, but I don’t give a shit.

Today was a mistake.

“Are you done?” he asks patiently, his eyes never leaving mine.

“No. Give me my phone before I break that fucking nose of yours.”

His eyebrows perk up as he whistles. I’ve never been like this with anyone before, but I’m so fucking mad. I just can’t control my irritation around this man.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and hands my phone over. I snatch it out of his hand. “Let me take you home.”

“Go eat a dick and die,” I spit back, turning on my heels and walking the other way.

I’m relieved, if only slightly, when he doesn’t follow.

Sometimes threatening to break a pretty boy’s nose is effective.