Virtuous Deception 2:
Playing for Keeps
Leiann B. Wrytes
www.urbanbooks.net
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Six Months Later . . . .
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Urban Books, LLC
300 Farmingdale Road, NY-Route 109
Farmingdale, NY 11735
Virtuous Deception 2: Playing for Keeps
Copyright © 2019 Leiann B. Wrytes
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, except brief quotes used in reviews.
ISBN: 978-1-6016-2919-7
eISBN 13: 978-1-60162-920-3
eISBN 10: 1-60162-920-6
This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.
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Prologue
Her body shivered as she wavered on the edge of hopelessness. Peter shared a light joke, something about a monkey and two dogs, but it barely registered. His infectious laugh never failed to elicit one from her, pulling one from her subconscious, pushing it through her pain one letter at a time. She adored how his voice danced when something amused him. Sophie, joining in his blissful moment, laughed along with him.
The laugh she mustered was much harder than the joke merited, as she tried to mask the inundated ache swirling through her, facing the inevitable conclusion that this battle was one she would ultimately lose. The moment she dreaded, the one looming around the corner, would force her to utter the words that would likely kill her romance. Slowly but surely, the pain threatened to swallow her whole.
Her exceptional intelligence quotient was no match for her father’s, the formidable Richard Freemont. Blinking back tears, she smiled at Peter, absorbing all that their moment had to offer, cementing every little detail into her memory; coveting the way a few rebellious strands of his sienna-brown hair rested on his forehead, the brilliance of the full moon captured in his pea-green eyes, passing on to them a glow comparable to the awesome stars loitering about in the sky above them. Without question, Peter was the love of her young life.
Countless nights, he had lent his shoulder to catch her tears, allowed her to empty her heart into his open ear, proving to her that it was possible for a person to love unselfishly. This would not be an easy thing for her to do—letting him go—but the choice was not hers. Richard had decided for her.
Peter held her small, delicate hand in his, trembling as he spoke. He recounted their fairytale, gushing over the treasure trove of love they had stumbled upon inside one another. The stained wooden park bench swing swayed slightly as she shifted her body, struggling to give him her undivided attention. The sun had set hours ago, filling the sky with wondrous shades of violet, ruby, and orange before relenting to the calm of the dark-blue summer night.
Her parents had insisted their infatuation would flame out as their teenage hormones gave way to more mature dispositions. Their youthful zeal had survived three years of high school and the esteemed walk across the stage. Graduation, only a month old, was still a fresh memory.
Having accelerated her class schedule to graduate from her private school a full two years ahead of schedule, Sophie understood, intellectually, that the ability to make a lifelong emotional commitment at sixteen was unlikely. The odds of their bond stretching beyond their twilight years were not favorable, but her rationale had no answer for the way he made her feel. The safety she sought from him, and his willingness to provide it, was present in his stare, a warmth that never failed to disarm her. He gave her everything he had each moment they were together.
As he gently grazed the softness of her cheek with his hand, his eyes penetrated the windows to her soul. Relishing the magnetic pull his gaze had on her, she returned his stare, trying her best to reciprocate the abundance of love she felt sweltering inside.
“Luce, you know how I feel about you. These last three years have been the best of my life. They say home is where the heart is, and I think my home is right here with you.” Caressing her hand as he spoke, Peter continued, his country twang resting in the spaces between the words. “You are my best friend. I didn’t truly know what a friend was before you, before us.”
Sophie froze, unsure of what to do with the surge of energy he was sending her. His desire washed over her like a tidal wave, overwhelming her thoughts. Overcome with emotion, her sentence derailed, issuing a set of tears in its place.
“Peter, I—”
“Luce, don’t cry.” Peter lovingly wiped the tears from her eyes as they fell. “I have something I want to give you.”
Reaching into his pocket to retrieve the small diamond it housed, he chuckled lightly. Holding it in his fingers for her inspection, he beamed with pride. “I saved up all year to get it for you.”
Quickly clasping her hands over her mouth, Sophie gasped audibly. She could not hide her surprise. On the verge of hyperventilating, Sophie suddenly found it hard to breathe. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as she tiptoed the thin line between joy and pain.
“This is a promise ring. Here, let me put it on for you.” Peter slid the one-carat diamond onto Sophie’s finger. “I was going to give it to you earlier this week, but—”
Peter didn’t need to finish the sentence. His touch still warmed her frame. Sophie gazed at her newest piece of jewelry, holding it up, inspecting it through blurry eyes. Peter did not have the money to make a purchase of this kind. It was completely unexpected.
“Do you like it?” Peter asked anxiously, unable to conceal his excitement. “It’s spent the last two weeks in my pocket. Every time I meant to give it to you, it just didn’t feel
right, but tonight was so special with the moon so pretty up there.”
“Peter . . . it’s beautiful.” Hatred began boiling beneath her surface, spurred by what she was being forced to do. It was not fair.
“Sophie Lucille Freemont, this ring is a symbol of the promise I made to you. And the promise you made to me.”
The dam broke. The last of her defenses had been shattered. “Oh my God, Peter—”
Sophie cried uncontrollably, nervously twisting the ring on her finger. Staring into his eyes, she felt their souls connect, driving the stake deeper into her heart. She wanted to speak, to reciprocate the love he was pouring into her, but no words would come; only more tears.
Still without an answer, Peter tried to persuade her, mistaking her tears for reluctance. Rubbing her shoulder, a gesture aimed to assure her, he inched closer to her on the bench.
“I know I don’t have much now, but I’m going to medical school. I’m going to be a doctor, Luce. I’ll be able to take care of you. You don’t have to worry.”
His voice was calm, but she could see panic creeping into his eyes. Sophie shook her head, trying to force the words from her lips. Her vision blurred as her sobs took over, choking her words.
“Peter, I love you so much. I really do.” She cried even harder, watching his face transition from happiness to confusion. “I really wish that I—”
“Luce, what’s wrong? Why are you crying like this?” His thick eyebrows arched with worry, the question holding his world hostage, awaiting her answer.
“Oh God, Peter.” Sophie could barely speak through her despair. “You have been an amazing friend. I don’t deserve you.”
“Luce, don’t say that. Sure you do. We both do.”
“Peter, I can’t accept this,” Sophie managed to whisper through her tears, taking the ring off and offering it to Peter.
Peter shrank back, treating the offering of love she tried to return like it had been stricken with a virus. He refused to take the ring, unable to accept what she had just told him.
“What are you saying, Luce? I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”
“I am so sorry, Peter.” Sophie felt weak. Her heart physically ached in her chest. This was too much for her young mind to bear. She knew it would be painful, but not like this. She strained her resolve, trying to focus on what needed to be done as her entire world came to a grinding halt.
“But I love you. I want us to explore this world together. We made a promise. You can’t—”
More tears ran from the wells of her blues, each word like a shard of glass, tearing the soft tissues of her mouth on its way out. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Peter; he meant everything to her.
“I love you, too. I just . . . I can’t . . . Peter.”
As he stared in no particular direction, tears began to drip from his eyes as the realization slowly seeped in. He could barely look at her. Rustling his hands through his hair, then brusquely down the sides of his face, Peter turned his gaze to Sophie.
“You don’t want me? Is that it? I’m not good enough for your family?”
Sophie felt she might die at the sight of him. She had never seen him so broken. She placed a comforting hand on his face. Peter jerked away from her, leaping up from the bench, causing it to swing wildly.
“Peter, no . . . please. We are family.”
“Your daddy told me, but I told him you were different. I told him . . . he didn’t know you.” Peter’s face revealed the destructive blow the night’s events had dealt him. As he stood there, it looked like the universe had lost its power. The light from his eyes, once brilliant and iridescent, was now snuffed out.
She stood from the bench, reaching out to him, but Peter backed away from her. He rushed from the backyard, racing toward her house before disappearing around the corner, taking the best of her with him as he ran.
Movement from her back porch caught her attention, causing her to look in that direction. Though she was roughly one hundred fifty yards away, she could easily make out the shadowy figure’s outline perched on the deck. After being spotted, the form vanished into the house. Collapsing back down onto the bench, she wept until her eyes burned and were swollen shut. She felt like someone had taken away her ability to dream, to hope.
She spent the remainder of the night there, on the bench, too hurt to go inside. Losing Peter, her champion, was painful enough, but to realize that the person responsible had borne witness to her horror was too much to process. Sophie had done what was required of her, and it had torn her soul from her. Her spirit was in agony.
She lay there until Nanette helped her into the house, right before dawn, where she had a nice hot bubble bath waiting for her. Promptly after the bath, Nanette returned to Sophie with instructions.
“Chile, we have to get you ready. Richard wants you dressed real nice.”
Currently seated on a stool facing the full-length mirror in her powder room, Sophie felt less than enthusiastic about her impending plans. Nanette rarely assisted Sophie in this way, but the hurt in Sophie’s sunken eyes compelled her.
Sophie felt the need for answers. “Why, Nan? What is it now? Another political function?”
Nanette grunted, arched her brow, throwing Sophie a knowing look. “You know it isn’t, now, don’t you?”
Sophie shook her head, acknowledging Nan’s statement.
“Peter left a long time ago, chile.”
“Nan, I don’t want to discuss it, please.”
Nanette, who had been standing behind Sophie, moved to her side. She gently turned Sophie’s face toward her own, peering intently into her eyes. She rushed her words in what could only be described as a harsh whisper.
“I don’t know everything, but I know a broken heart when I see it. If ya need me, talk to me, understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Offering Nan a weak smile, Sophie tried to absorb a bit of comfort from the softness she always found resting in her irises. Nan’s eyes carried a kind of sadness Sophie could not interpret, but Nan refused to discuss it with her. Sophie knew that whatever caused that ache had not defeated Nan. Nan was a warrior, the best woman she knew, and the only person in the world she knew truly loved her, besides Peter.
“Thank you, Nan.”
“No need for that. Just be a loving person, Lucille. That’s all, and God will work it all out.” Patting Sophie lightly on her cheek, Nan leaned in to leave a feather’s kiss on her forehead, forcing the corners of Sophie’s mouth to stretch out into a genuine smile.
“What time will Leonard be here, Nan?”
Returning to her position behind Sophie, Nanette fluffed her hair, not certain what to make of the matted mess. “Soon is all I can tell ya, chile.”
“I really hate him, Nan.”
“Leonard? Did he do something, Lucille?”
“What? Goodness no, Nan. He’s been awkward and very uncomfortable these last two months, but nothing inappropriate. I was referring to our fair patriarch.”
“Richard is a hard man. I would neva call the way he does things love, chile, but he’s yo’ daddy.”
“Why won’t he let me be happy? I’ll never have anything here. Never.”
“Give it time, Lucille. Prayer is a powerful thing.”
“He says prayer is for those who are too lazy to do for themselves.”
“Do you believe him?”
“That matters very little in this house. The empty ramblings of the girl child. He only cares for himself—and mother sometimes.”
“Sophie Lucille Freemont!”
“You know it’s the truth. He strangles the life out of every good thing I acquire, Nan.”
Nanette had no words to refute that, her silence submitting her regrettable agreement. “Maybe so, but at least the Leonard boy don’t seem so bad. Better than the others.”
“He is a nice boy, Nan, but he is not Peter.”
“I know, chile, but yo’ daddy needs it this way.”
&n
bsp; “I hate him.”
“Lucille, you hush speakin’ that way ’bout yo’ daddy. He’s takin good care of you now.”
“Financially.”
“You went to the best schools. You’re a smart girl.”
“That’s because I had you, Nan. You don’t have to defend him. We both know that I’m nothing more than a pawn. Eventually, he’ll sacrifice me . . . just like he did Angela.”
Nanette sank her thin fingers into Sophie’s shoulders, a hand on either side, using the mirror to lock Sophie into a gaze she could not break. “I will never, ever let him do that, Lucille. You hear me? Pray and watch what happens.”
Nan had always managed to comfort her with her wisdom, but her words were ineffective in this instance. Richard had gone too far, and only a violation equally repulsive would turn the tide in Sophie’s favor.
“Perhaps, Nan, but I cannot wait for time to speak on my behalf.” Sophie intended to free herself from her father. As the devil with the blue eyes returned her stare, she knew exactly what to do. Sophie would make her move tonight, an act of rebellion. “He cannot get away this. I won’t let him.”
“Don’t go against that man, chile. That was your sister’s mistake.”
“I know, Nan, but I am not her. I am not afraid of him anymore; not afraid of losing any of this. I want love, Nan, and he took it from me. He needs to be stopped.”
Chapter 1
Michelle stood with eyes blazing like embers, narrowing into slits, as her lungs scraped the atmosphere for the oxygen she was suddenly without. The hurried cadence of her heartbeat bellowed in her ears, effectively muting all other sounds. The sight of Charlie, her father’s very pregnant mistress, shaking her mother’s hand left her speechless.
Their first meeting flashed across her mind, blinding her to the present happenings. There were no visible signs of pregnancy then, at least none that she could recall. Following a lead, Michelle had found herself sitting across from Charlie to gather information regarding a case, when the sound of her father’s boisterous voice rattled the hotel room.
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