King of Deceit (Vows of Blood #3)

Chapter 1

ONE

ANTHONY

Being the cousin and head of security for Moretti Global comes with its perks. Other times it comes with its downfalls. Today is one of those days that started promising and completely fucked itself up.

Or one person in particular had fucked it up.

Isabella Romero.

Why did this woman keep coming back into my life?

I’d done my fair share of shitty things.

Was that why I was being punished? As a Moretti, that came hand in hand, but we did have morals.

Or at least we tried to. We only strike when we’re hit first, and we always have the last word. Never do we not come out on top.

But starting a war with Isabella Romero was another kind of danger. I’d known her since we were kids. Somehow, I’d ended up at the same middle school as her, before her father caught wind of it and moved her to some private school out of state.

Still, those few months taught me that perhaps we shouldn’t judge a child by their parent, and what said parent is capable of.

I was wrong.

She was deadly, vindictive, cruel, and a woman I’d rather never see again.

Yet, here she is again, moving back to New York, and no matter where she landed, that would always be too close for my comfort.

Strutting back into my city as if it were an everyday occurrence. Nothing to see here. All is well.

The fuck it was.

I wait outside her apartment block, not willing to enter any location where a Romero resides, not without backup.

As the cousin of Matteo Romero, Isabella wasn’t back in New York for a friendly family reunion.

No, she was here for a reason. I could only assume it was because over the past couple of years we’d offed Matteo and now Elio.

I had no doubt the Romeros, Isabella too, were merely biding their time, waiting for the right time to strike.

It isn’t going to happen.

We’ll strike first. I don’t give a fuck what she says to the contrary. She’s a deceitful bitch, and if I have to take her down, once and for all, I will.

She steps out onto the street, wearing a gray sweatshirt and tracksuit pants. The hoodie is over her golden-blonde hair. The shoulder-length curls peek out, and I get a glimpse of her profile as she moves toward her moving van to get another box.

Was she setting up her office inside the building? There were other apartments she could use besides the one where she lived. God knows where she’d been the past five years. Curiosity eats at me, the part that knew her before I realized that ice ran through her veins. Not honesty. Not loyalty.

I take a deep breath and push away the memories that threaten my sanity.

“Isabella Romero, we meet again.” I move toward her.

“If I were pleased to see you so close to the Morettis, I’d mention it, but since I’m not, I can’t help but ask what the fuck are you doing here?

Are you playing at death's door on purpose?” Let her know I mean business.

That we no longer put up with anything from her family, no matter the cost.

She starts at my presence, before quickly taking me in as if she’s forgotten what I looked like. Unlikely, she knows every part of me.

Intimately…

“Anthony.” Her tone is one of condescension, and I take a deep breath, pushing down the annoyance that rises within me at hearing my name on her lips. “What a pleasant surprise. I didn’t know you were still stalking me.”

“Stalking you?” I scoff. “You wish.” I pause. “What are you doing here? You know Moretti Global has offices not far from here. You’re playing with fire.”

“I’m doing no such thing. I moved back to New York, and if I need to remind you, the city is large enough to house all of us.

” She adjusts the box in her arms, and I stop the urge to help her.

“I’m going to live here now that I’m back in the US.

So you and your family need to stop being so paranoid. ”

She moves past me, bumping into my shoulder. I grind my teeth. “Don’t fucking lie to me. You’re not gaining anything from being here. Sell your apartment and fuck off. The Morettis have no patience for the Romeros. Not anymore.”

If the death of two of her family members was any indication, she’d take a hint.

She steps up to me, her face but an inch from mine. I can smell her sweet perfume, the same she wore when I thought I knew her. I was an idiot. Thank God I’d grown a brain since my early twenties.

“Oh, we understand perfectly. You don’t need to remind us of what you’re capable of.

” She laughs, but the sound is mocking. “How amusing that the Morettis pretend to be turning a new leaf. Doing everything right by the law. Hell, I heard recently that your cousin is marrying the Chief of Police’s daughter.

What a coup, yes? But it’s all smoke and mirrors.

You’re all as corrupt as you always were.

No matter how much makeup you put on a pig, it’s still a pig, yes? ”

I swallow. She’s not wrong. We had strayed from the moral compass a time or two, perhaps a few more times than that even, but it was only in retaliation and self-defense. If someone else decided to fuck around, why was it our fault that they fucking found out?

“The same could be said for your family. When do you ever learn to leave things alone? Here you are, five years after I saw you last, and you’re moving into my city. Stop poking the lion, Isabella, unless you want to be bitten.”

She chuckles, and the sound resonates through me.

I’d heard her laugh like that many times.

I used to revel in the sound when we were pretending everything was okay.

How wrong had I been? But never again. From that day forward, I’d never let my emotions get the better of me, make me weak and unwilling to see the truth for what it was.

“And are you going to be the one who bites?” She steps closer still, her breasts brushing my chest.

I grind my teeth, forcing my hands to my sides. I won’t touch this toxic bitch, no matter how she tries to tempt me otherwise.

“From memory, you used to be very good with your mouth.” She reaches up and clasps my jaw, brushes her thumb over my lips. I’m still unable to move, not able to trust myself to react responsibly. Not with the same ire and disgust this woman brings out in me.

“Oh, yes, those lips. That wicked mouth that I loved riding.” She closes her eyes and lets out a soft moan. I harden instantly, remembering how obsessed we were. How often we fucked while no one was aware.

No one knew.

“God, your tongue. Longer than most men, could make me come in under a minute. Just for the record, no one’s beaten you on that front…

yet.” She pats my cheek and steps away, picking up the box she’d placed on the ground.

“Now, do me a favor and let me move into my new home without further interruption. I don’t have the patience for your family, and unless you want more blood on your hands, I’d advise you to run back to Lucien and tell him the big bad witch who broke your heart is moving in and that he better get used to it. ”

Broke my heart? I’m still unable to breathe. God, I loathe her.

But I can’t respond because fuck her. What she says is true, and we both know it.