Misguided Vows (Lethal Vows Book 5)
Misguided Vows: Chapter 32

When I find you, I will fucking gut you. And I will find you.

Delete.

Goose bumps erupt along my skin. Another email. It feels like he’s been more persistent recently and I don’t know why. But I’m definitely ignoring it. Besides, I have better things to focus on right now.

The construction of the shop is complete. This means that, as of tomorrow, the fun begins. Well, my version of fun, anyway. All the fittings and boxes of stock are due to arrive. I’m curious as to what will show up. I might be so inclined to grab a few toys and lingerie sets myself.

I know Will is going to appreciate them. Then again, the thought is stifling in itself. I don’t know what was going through my mind last night, but whatever it was, I’ve never had such crazy sex like that in my life.

I scan the papers on my clipboard, biting at the edge of my pen thoughtfully. Unfortunately, the things running through my head don’t have much to do with what I should be focusing on right now but rather a certain blue-eyed Englishman who shouldn’t be consuming my thoughts as much as he is.

I didn’t expect that he was previously married, but then again, he doesn’t know much about my past either, and I’m keeping it that way.

“Alina,” Dawson calls out from where he stands with the reporter who’s noting down his answers. I look up, startled from my earlier thoughts, and then join them. “Would you mind answering a few questions? It’s okay to say no.”

I don’t want to disappoint Dawson or the reopening in any way. “I can; I just don’t like my photo being taken,” I admit. My business name and last name are aliases. I didn’t mind telling Honey and Dawson my real last name, but when it came to my company, I tweaked my surname slightly from Harper to Harriet.

“We can do that,” the reporter says with a smile. “Can you tell us about the inspiration behind the design?” She dives straight in. That’s when Honey arrives and Dawson excuses himself. I suddenly realize I might’ve been used as a scapegoat. The reporter stares at him starry-eyed as he leaves. Ah, definitely a scapegoat.

But Dawson only has eyes for one woman. Honey smiles as he approaches and then kisses her passionately. Anyone would think they’ve gone weeks or months without seeing one another.

I go through some details about what to expect at the grand reopening and how grateful I’ve been to work for Dawson on this new design. Then he saves me, taking the interview back over, and Honey links her elbow with mine.

“Am I allowed to go inside now?” I ask with a smile. She smiles back and hands me a coffee from her bakery.

“Oh, don’t worry. Apparently, they took the photos earlier. Dawson said they took about thirty, but I know for a fact they only needed one. I’ve never seen that man take one bad photo from any angle.” She laughs.

“You have no idea how badly I needed this coffee.” I groan. The one downside of having a fuck marathon is the lack of sleep. I’m just lucky today doesn’t require too much brain power.

“I thought so from the way you and Will were eye fucking one another. A long night, then?”

“Very.” I laugh as I take a sip and appreciate the hot brew.

When we turn, we notice they’re taking more photos of Dawson. “Wow, the feature wall is stunning!” she exclaims as she sees the intricate design I had a famous street artist lay out. “Also, you never told me why you don’t like getting your photo taken. Even on your social apps, you don’t post any photos.”

I take another sip of coffee, avoiding answering that question. I feel guilty at times that they’ve all been so open with me while I’ve been holding back. Rya and Honey were even so bold as to let me in on the secrets of their world.

I sigh. I don’t want to lie to her. But what if I say something and it somehow brings all the demons back?

She turns then and looks at me. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I just…” I’m hesitant to tell her why I don’t like photos. Though I have people around me, Maria included, who I have really opened up to since everything went down? In a small way, it’s starting to feel lonely. I’ve been having a lot of those thoughts lately. I don’t entirely understand why, but I say, “If I tell you something, do you promise not to tell anyone else?”

“Of course. Is everything okay?” she asks again as she joins me at the minibar with leather stools. They haven’t yet been positioned correctly, but there will be a small space for cocktails for clients who are shopping for special occasions.

“Everything’s fine. I just thought maybe I could tell you why I don’t like having my photo taken. I haven’t really told anyone before. I don’t even know if I should now.” It feels strange. Maybe it’s because I’ve been fucked within an inch of my life, or lack of sleep, or I feel guilty for letting Will open up his wounds in front of me without reciprocating.

“You can tell me anything. I won’t judge,” Honey says, placing a hand over mine.

I sigh, already exhausted. “The quick answer is I ran away from someone a few years ago. It was before I started up my business. We weren’t officially boyfriend and girlfriend, but close to that.

“He was involved in a bad crowd in LA, and… I don’t know. I was stupid. Attracted to danger. But when he got too deep into the drugs and the gangs, I knew it was time to split. The problem was, he spent all my savings, so I stole something of value from him so I could get myself out of that situation. I haven’t seen him since, and I don’t want to. But I don’t want to risk him discovering everything I’ve built.”

Honey doesn’t say anything while I tell her my story; she just listens, and it makes it even more unnerving. More real. She’s the first person I’ve said those words to out loud.

“Do you think he’ll find you now? Because if you need help, Alina, you know you kind of have a kick-ass group of friends here in New York.” We nervously laugh at that, and it feels like the weight evaporates from me. “Have you spoken to Will about this? You know he could probably find the guy just to put your mind at rest.”

“No. I definitely won’t be telling Will about this. We’re having a fun fling. That’s all. I don’t want to be in debt to him in any way.”

Honey ponders that. “Does he know it’s just a fling?”

“We both do,” I say adamantly, and I know it’s not my place to tell her about his wife. That’s his story, but it weighs heavily over me, and I don’t entirely understand why yet. “That kind of brought down the mood.” I try to laugh it off, embarrassed that I told her that. Why did I tell her that?

“No, it didn’t. Thank you for telling me, and for trusting me. And you tell me if you’re ever in trouble. We’re friends now. I hope you realize that. I don’t know if you know this about yourself, Alina, but you have a very magnetic presence about you. I’m sure you make friends wherever you go. And I may look super sweet, but I actually know how to kick ass, so if you need me, let me know.”

“My wife will not be kicking anyone’s ass,” Dawson interrupts as he opens the door. A cold shudder runs down my spine at the thought of him hearing any of that. But luckily, he only just stepped in. “That’s why you married me. And besides, wasn’t it you who said just this morning that your stomach is going to be the size of a watermelon?”

“As if you don’t expect your baby to be picking fights even inside the womb.” She laughs, and I chuckle. I can see it. And then there’s Crue and Rya’s son. From what I’ve heard, he’s a handful.

“How did the interview go?” Honey asks knowingly. She seems smug. She must be used to women staring at her husband like that, and yet it’s so obvious he’s devoted only to her.

“Good. Longer than expected but finally done.” He glances around the space, then turns to me. “I would’ve never considered these colors, but I like them. It fits. So, you start setting up tomorrow?”

“Yep.” I slide off the bar stool. “I have to take more photos and videos today. You know, before and after.”

“Speaking of before and after, I find it strange that your lapdog isn’t with you,” Dawson jokes, and I realize belatedly he’s referring to Will.

“Very funny,” I deadpan, hand on hip as I pick up my clipboard. “And he’s out on another job. Besides, I like the peace when he’s not around. It means I can focus on my job without him intruding all the time.”

The truth is, though, I’ve become used to his presence, and after him not being around for two weeks, dare I say I was a little bored.

Not that I’d ever tell that arrogant asshole that.

My phone pings with a message from Will. It’s a video. When I press play, I immediately close my phone, but it was enough for a second of moaning to escape through the speaker.

My cheeks heat red as I realize he’s just sent me videos of us fucking with the caption:

This fucker knows how to make an impression even when he isn’t standing in the same room.