The Promise (Darkest Lies Trilogy Book 2), Bethany-Kris [top 50 books to read .txt] 📗

the little white chapel with an actual white picket fence. That made Roman squint a bit. At the end of the driveway stood a man and a woman. They would officiate and witness the wedding, making their marriage legal and binding, and overlook a few details to make it happen because of the extra cash Roman had paid to the couple.

But it was practically done. Roman had taken care of the details in advance, and all they needed to do was turn up, do the ceremony, and sign the papers. Once the woman filed it with her husband’s signature, there was no going back.

Now they were here.

He knew it was a bit cringe. A chapel in Vegas. Cheap looking, and cheaper feeling. The bride in bright red, and a groom who still had visible bruises and cuts. No family or friends around. Was this the wedding he’d pictured for himself?

No.

To be fair, he’d also never pictured getting married in the first place. So, in the end it didn’t really matter to him what the chapel looked like or if the officiant was wearing a wig, because none of that mattered. This wasn’t supposed to happen to him—the same thing he’d thought his father was weak for, being so in love that he was constantly at the beck and call of his wife, was the only thing Roman currently dreamed of.

Fucked, that.

But he didn’t mind it.

When he parked the car, Karine turned to him. Her eyes were so bright, her smile growing radiant—and now that he thought about it, she hadn’t stopped smiling since she got into his car in Vermont. With him, she was happy.

Always.

He kept reminding himself of that.

But there was still something lurking behind her stare, too. It felt like every quiet moment between them was charged with the questions she couldn’t seem to bring herself to ask, but he always saw them staring back.

Thing was ... if she couldn’t ask them, he didn’t know if she could handle the answers. So, he was going to wait. She would have to ask, simple as that. Sometimes, self-awareness was, in itself, a lesson in strength.

He needed her to start figuring out, and demanding, what she needed. Whether that was answers, or otherwise ... but not today.

He reached for her, cupping her cheek with his hand.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Karine?” he asked.

There was no pause between his question, and when she leaned between the seats into him, taking his kiss hard from his mouth. Fiercely. Like she owned it; like she owned him.

Because she did.

“Let’s do this. Let’s get married,” she whispered against his lips.

Roman already had the car door open.

• • •

Want more of Roman and Karine’s story—check for book 3 THE MARRIAGE, to continue the trilogy ...

Here’s a sneak peek:

Chapter 1

Roman wanted to touch Karine while she stood across from him—tuck the stray strands of wavy hair that had fallen out from behind her ear—feel the shivers race over her shoulder blade when his fingertips glided down the column of her throat. But he made do with her palms tucked inside his larger hands as the officiant stood at their sides at the little makeshift church. The inside looked even less like an actual church than the outside—signage and proper placement could really do a lot for things.

The man in his robe was reading from a book, smiling at his own words and putting on quite a show. At least, the guy did seem to enjoy his job and some people might enjoy this kind of thing. Although, Roman didn’t care about the words, or much for the man speaking them—it was all a means to an end.

And a very beautiful beginning.

He just wanted to be married to this girl—he wanted to be bound to Karine for life. Even if the fraudulent paperwork made the marriage illegal, it was the act itself that couldn’t be undone. A bell that would never unring.

Besides, it wasn’t like following the law had ever made much of a difference to men like him before—it certainly wouldn’t matter to Dima to learn Karine had married Roman in a ceremony. Legal or not, that didn’t change what it was.

Or what it meant.

If she belonged to Roman, like he was tying himself to her, then nobody, not even Dima would take her away from him. He would die to make it true. There was no cost he would not pay.

The woman who stood close by was also the official witness to the wedding—the officiant’s wife wore a bright smile throughout her husband’s theatrics. No doubt, it was something she had seen a hundred times.

He was just more interested in Karine than the finer details of the happenings around him. He was fine pretending nobody else existed but him and her. Her in that red jumper, with her silky dark hair laying in messy waves over her shoulders. Her with her eyes so bright, and a sweet mouth stretched into the prettiest smile.

Could she feel his racing heartbeats through his fingertips?

Was she as excited as he was?

As eager?

They would walk out of there as man and wife—till death did they part. And he still wasn’t even entirely sure they were going to make it out of everything else alive, let alone this.

But she didn’t stop staring back.

And that smile ...

Those nerves that he was too proud of a man to show quieted with her in front of him, hands still steady in his. At one point, he had to repeat words after the officiant. Nothing religious, Roman had been quick to specify, not even a single verse. It was the basic, legal wording the officiant technically had to use. Karine repeated the same.

Roman hadn’t attended many weddings in his lifetime—the one’s he’d been forced to suffer through had been worsened by hangovers and stolen drug-fogged memories. So, he wasn’t completely aware of the proceedings. He simply did what he was told until finally the moment came that he’d been waiting for.

The only