The Widow Maker (Dark Vows Duet 2)

But all it takes is a moment of losing focus to have what’s most valuable to you taken away.

I’ve been confined to my room, which is more like a cage at this point—it even has the bars to prove it. I do not know whether Heath has been in contact. No clue whether they’ve discovered who I really am. So far, there has only been silence. Xander hasn’t visited me once, and it’s been days since I’ve been locked in here. All I get are stony-faced maids who bring me my meals and refuse to answer any of my questions, and guards watching me every time I make a move.

It must be the fourth day when Xander finally arrives. Before even speaking to me, he sighs and rubs his temples, then sits down on the armchair by my bed. Another guard is with him, but he doesn’t so much as glance at me, just holds onto his gun in a way that makes it clear he won’t hesitate to shoot. My skin crawls with fear.

“Seems like you haven’t been completely honest with me,” Xander begins, giving me his signature cocky smile. “You’re quite the clever little thing, aren’t you?”

“What d-do you mean?” I manage, my heart speeding up. I pray to God he hasn’t discovered my secret, that he doesn’t know I’m really Xavier’s wife. “I’ve told you everything.”

“Well, we just found out you’re a married woman, Adelina,” he smirks at me. “So it seems you have only told us part of the truth, haven’t you?”

I swallow thickly. Part of me is relieved he seems to have only found out a part of the secret I’ve been keeping. But the rest of me is terrified. If he’s upset just about this, how will the bastard react when he finds out everything else I’ve lied about?

“Yes, I’m married,” I mumble. “I was brought to Heath for him to train me.”

“Train you?” he laughs out loud. “Wouldn’t your husband be better off doing that?”

I shake my head, unable to form another sentence.

“Either way, it seems our dear Heath has developed some feelings for you,” Xander sighs. “It’s unfortunate that I have to hurt you already.”

“What? But I-“

I don’t dare finish my sentence as he holds up his hand, warning me not to speak. My protest dies on my lips and he smiles sweetly before clicking his fingers.

“Bring him in.”

The double doors to my bedroom open once again. Two guards march a man inside. What’s left of him, anyway. My stomach turns at the beaten, bloody mess of a man before me screaming at the world in Spanish.

“This is Juan,” Xander says pleasantly. “Juan is here to serve as a reminder of what happens when you lie to me. Isn’t that right, Juan?”

Juan cries out as the guard shoves him to his knees. I shake as Xander turns to me with a sickly, satisfied expression.

“I’d like to invite you to come on a drive with me, Adelina.”

“A drive?” I narrow my eyes at him. “I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”

He’s never reminded me more of Xavier, my husband, and his brother. There’s no denying it anymore, not now that he’s used Xavier’s signature phrase for making me afraid.

A guard shoves me forward with his gun and I force myself to walk forward with the barrel pressing against the small of my back. I’m terrified. I’m wearing nothing but a nightie since it was already late when Xander came in and I’d wanted to get an early night to ease my nerves. None of these men seem to care about that, though—or that I’m barefoot.

Stones cut my feet as we walk outside of the house for the first time. I ponder my chance of running, but there are guards situated around the perimeter of the property, their guns aimed at me. The moment I try something, I’m a dead woman walking.

The property is bordered on one side by the beach where we arrived in the boat, and by a tall barbed fence on land. There’s forest all around us.

Swallowing, I follow Xander, who’s strolling without a care in the world, to a Mercedes parked in the driveway. It’s a cabriolet, and the top is down. The night is chilly, and I shiver as Xander half-guides, half-shoves me into the vehicle. The door locks behind me and he soon joins me in the driver’s seat, giving me a reassuring smile. But I don’t trust the prick for a second.

As he revs up the engine, I watch in horror as more guards force Juan out of the house and bring him to his knees in the parking lot. For a moment, I’m sure one of them will send a bullet through Juan’s head.

If only they would.

What actually happens is even more horrible.