Betrayed by Truths: Truth or Lies Book 2

by Ella Miles

  “The same reason I didn’t say that you also worked for me.”

  “What?”

  “When you were cleaning yachts as a teenager you worked for Black.”

  She pulls her hand from my grasp breaking whatever connection we shared.

  “Is the loser required to work for the winner?” she asks.

  “No.”

  Her eyes drop. “Why didn’t he tell me the truth? Why didn’t he prepare me for this? Why didn’t he protect me?”

  A tear rolls down her pinked cheek.

  I test my newfound theory that my touch can no longer rise panic within her. I stroke her cheek removing the wetness from her face. And the look I get is far more reward than I deserve for such an action.

  She bites her lip.

  “I don’t know why. Only he can answer that.”

  Her face tightens as she frowns. “And you won’t let me speak to him again?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t trust him.”

  “Him or me?”

  “Him.”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t think you can tell me who I can and can’t speak to.”

  “You’re right. I can’t, but I’ll ensure you never see him so you’ll have no chance to speak.”

  She growls, and her fists fly up and pound into my chest. “You can’t keep him from me. He’s my father! If I want to talk to him, I will.”

  I pull her to me, wrapping my arms around her body to keep her from fighting me. But it doesn’t stop the wildness in her eyes or the flailing of her body trying to get free in my arms.

  “It’s for your own good,” I say.

  “You don’t get to determine what’s best for me!”

  “Yes, I do!”

  “No! You sold me! You don’t get a say in my life.”

  “And it’s because of my fuck up that I must do everything I can to protect you!”

  I let her go.

  She takes a step back.

  “Keeping me from my father and the truth isn’t protecting me.”

  “It is, and you know it.”

  She breathes, and I see the fight leave. She knows I’m right. She can’t trust her father any more than she can trust me. Her father is trying to protect her by keeping her innocent and weak so she has no chance of winning and becoming part of this life. Or he’s a monster who doesn’t love his daughter. Maybe there was another sibling that was born. A son he kept hidden trying to raise to take Kai’s place, but something happened to that boy, and now it’s too late.

  My father ordered me to kill Kai when he realized she was my competition. If he knew of a son, he would have done anything to kill the child to ensure I won. My father never thought I was strong enough.

  “What if I don’t want your protection?”

  I take her left hand in mine, my thumb tracing over the diamond sitting on her thin finger. “This ring may not be a vow of marriage. It’s not a pledge of my loyalty for all of eternity. It’s a vow to protect you, forever. I fucked up once, but now I realize my mistake. I owe you a lifetime of making it up to you, and that means protection, whether you want it or not. I’ll protect you with my life.”

  Another tear falls.

  I wipe it away, relishing the chills her skin sends through my body.

  “My words aren’t meant to make you cry.”

  She smiles lightly. “To most women, they might sound like heaven, but to me, I realize the truth. Your protection is just another way to control me. I don’t want your protection, Enzo.”

  I sigh as she pulls once again out of my grasp.

  “I’m sorry, Kai, but you don’t have a choice.”

  She shakes her head. “I always have a choice. I’d rather die than be controlled.”

  “I’d rather you be alive.”

  “Why?”

  I shrug. “Maybe saving you from death will absolve me of some of my other sins.”

  “It won’t.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Kai stares at the door, and I know what she’s thinking. Of running inside and finding her father before I banish him. But I’m not the one keeping him from her, he is. He’s had every opportunity to speak to her, and yet he’s never tried. And I’m going to find out why.

  “Come,” I say.

  It’s a command, and I’m not sure she will follow it. As much as I wish she were truly mine, she’s not. She’s free willed and does what she wants, even if I know what’s best for her.

  I smile when I hear her heels on the sidewalk behind me. She catches up with me easily, but then stops in her tracks when she sees where we are headed.

  “Go for a ride with me?” I ask as I stare at the gorgeous yacht looming in the distance. If she wants to get over her fear and no longer need my protection; then this is the way to do it—by facing it.

  She takes a step back. “No.”

  How can she survive in this life if she can’t face the water?

  She can’t.

  “Then you’ll have to accept my offer of protection.”

  Kai nods silently accepting my words as truth. She doesn’t have a choice. If she can’t protect herself, then I am all she has.

  7

  Kai

  Enzo wants to protect me.

  But it’s as much about control as it is protection.

  And I’m tired of being a prisoner.

  Enzo stops the car outside of his home. His home, a place that will never be mine. This house will never be anything but my cage. And only I can set myself free.

  I throw the car door open and run.

  I know it’s useless—that Enzo, my captor, will chase. But it feels good to run, to fight, instead, of letting my body fall for the handsome man who offers protection.

  That protection can feel good, comforting, safe. But then it also traps me as Enzo can just as easily turn into an insufferable ass who thinks he’s God and can control my every movement.

  Enzo catches me faster than I expected. We fall to the ground in a lump of arms and legs. I fight. My fists flying into his chest and he lets me.

  Pound.

  Pound.

  Pound.

  My fists make contact over and over as I sob into his shoulder.

  This is the most contact I’ve had with him—this exercise in getting out all of my grief.

  At first, I continue to take out my pain on him. My frustration and hurt for what he did to cause my current situation overtakes me, allowing me to let it out with my fists in a way I haven’t been able to until now. Because now that I can touch him, I’m free of him.

  Enzo rolls to his back, and I continue my assault on him. Moving from his chest to his face as I take out my furry. He does nothing but holds my hips as I rest on his.

  I punch him until I have nothing left.

  And then I collapse on his chest.

  I exhale everything inside me, hating him with every breath in my body. Until I hear the thump of his heart, it speeds so fast like he’s been running for his life instead of just suffering at the fate of my fists.

  Fists that are too weak even to draw blood. He might have a couple of bruises in the morning, but that is the worst that will happen to him. A man like Enzo has faced fists much worse than mine. My assault hardly fazed him, more of a nuisance than real discomfort.

  I lift my head, studying him.

  “Why is your heart beating so fast?” I ask.

  His shifts beneath me, and I feel his hard length between my legs.

  “Because you are in my arms.”

  I gasp.

  I’ve known I turned him on, but I’ve never felt him. Never felt his desire so plainly displayed for me.

  I thought my reaction to realizing the depths of his lust would be fear. I thought I’d run in terror. Instead, I want to feel more.

  I rock, ever so slightly, feeling his erection beneath my body.

  “Careful, Kai,” Enzo’s voice warns as he grits his teeth together as if in pain.


  I still. My eyes wide and unyielding.

  “Let me go,” I say, changing the subject even though our bodies don’t agree. I throb, wanting more of him but determined not to give in to the stupid wants of my broken body.

  “I can’t,” he says.

  I glare. And I know he will never let me go. Not because his cock is begging for me, but because he thinks of me as his property. He can pretend to be self-righteous all he wants. I know the monster within him.

  I get up in a huff, but it feels more like I’m ripping my body from his. Each step I take toward the house is difficult. I want to go back.

  What is wrong with me?

  I storm into the house.

  “Miss Miller, can I get you anything?” Westcott asks as soon as I enter.

  “Is Archard here?”

  He narrows his gaze. “Yes.”

  I frown. Is Archard here to tell me it’s time to start the games?

  “Where is he?”

  Westcott hesitates. “Mr. Black’s office.”

  I frown at the way he says Enzo’s last name, but I won’t argue about it now. I stomp to the office.

  “I need a word with you, Archard,” I say.

  He’s relaxing on the couch in the office.

  “Mr. Rinaldi said you would.”

  “What? Enzo said I would want to talk to you?”

  He nods.

  Fuck Enzo.

  “And what did he say I wanted to talk to you about?”

  “You wanted to speak to Archard about me letting you go,” Enzo says from behind me.

  I ignore Enzo. “Enzo can’t hold me captive. He’s no longer Black. He has no power. If this is to be a fair fight, I should be free to leave.”

  Archard looks over my shoulder to Enzo.

  “Don’t look at him! Look at me. If you are not loyal to Enzo, then ensure this game is fought fair. I can’t properly prepare if I’m a prisoner.”

  Archard sighs. “You’re right. Enzo is no longer Black.”

  I smile, turning to Enzo to demand he let me go free.

  “But there is nothing in the contract between the families that says this game is fought fairly. You are welcome to do whatever acts you please in regards to each other. You can try to undermine, hurt, steal, deter, even kill one another in preparation for the games. The games don’t pause just because it’s not one of the five tasks.”

  I gasp.

  “Enzo can’t use the power of Black to hold you here. But he can use whatever means he desires. Force, wit, lust.” Archard stands. “If you want to go free, then you have to figure out how to do it yourself. I can’t be involved.”

  I breathe deeply in and out; my anger is furying inside me.

  Archard stops at the door. “I came to let you know preparations have begun for the first game. It won’t be too long now.”

  And then he’s gone.

  I glare at Enzo. “I will leave.”

  He shakes his head. “Not until you are safe. You lost fair and square. You’re mine until I say you can go.”

  “There is nothing fair about this.”

  “No, but that was a lesson you learned long before me.”

  His eyes glaze over, and I see his cock still straining against his pants.

  “You need to shower and change. Your last sin still clings to you,” I say talking about the blood on his shirt.

  “It wasn’t a sin if I was protecting an innocent.”

  He means me. He thinks he protected my honor or something by killing Dallas.

  My eyes focus in on his crotch. I try to imagine what his cock would feel like inside me. Would it burn my insides as he took me? Or would my body welcome him in, feeling whole for the first time?

  “Don’t act like you don’t want me,” Enzo says, his voice dripping with lust.

  “Why haven’t you fucked me?” I ask.

  “When you ask, I will.”

  I frown. “What does that mean? It’s clear you want me; what’s stopping you?”

  “I don’t hurt women.”

  “Ha! You don’t hurt them yourself; you just sell them and have other men do it for you.”

  Enzo doesn’t argue. And I’m tired of fighting. I need to save all my strength to find a plan to escape and then the rest to pull the truth from my father.

  A knock interrupts us.

  “Miss Miller, the stylist has arrived,” Westcott says.

  I exhale, trying to let go of my frustration because I need to get a haircut and new clothes if I want a chance of being taken seriously.

  “Thank you, Westcott.”

  I follow Westcott upstairs to the bedroom I share with Enzo. That will stop. I won’t share anything with him—not anymore.

  “Claire Holland, this is Mrs. Black,” Westcott says, introducing me as Enzo’s husband.

  I eye Westcott, waiting for him to leave as the perky blond woman approaches me with a broad smile on her face. Westcott leaves us.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Claire,” I say.

  She smiles brightly holding her hands out to take mine in hers.

  I can’t let her touch me.

  “I’m so excited to see what clothes you brought.” I move past her toward the racks of clothes now hanging throughout the room.

  She squeals in delight instead of trying to take my hand again. “I’m so excited to dress you! You have an incredible body, Katherine. So thin! You have to tell me your diet and exercise secrets.”

  I give her a tight smile. Get kidnapped and live on a yacht that makes you sick for six years. “Sure,” I say, instead of the truth.

  “Westcott said you needed a whole new wardrobe, that you were newly wed and wanted to refresh your clothes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yay! I’m so excited; we better get started.” She moves to the closest rack and starts talking about dresses, when the door opens and Enzo enters.

  I glare at him.

  “Sorry ladies, I don’t mean to intrude. I just need to shower. I won’t be in your way. Continue,” Enzo says as he strides toward the bathroom.

  The bubbly Claire falls silent as she stares wide-eyed at Enzo. Her mouth parts as she drools after my fake husband.

  If Enzo notices her gawking, he doesn’t give any sign. Instead, he winks at me before disappearing into the bathroom.

  I never thought I’d be jealous of any woman staring so openly at Enzo, but I am.

  “We should get started,” I say, practically hissing between my teeth.

  I now have enough to fill a large closet with designer clothes. I have a huge pile of makeup and beauty products fit for a queen. Now all that is left is a haircut.

  Claire brought with her a large mirror, table, and chair for her to cut my hair. She loves fashion and clothes, but it turns out she started as a hairstylist.

  I sit in the chair staring at myself in the mirror as I let my long hair out.

  Claire has already been shocked by the scars marking my body. I told her I was in a car accident when I was younger that hurt my body, but I can’t hide the long uncut hair. There is no reason for my hair to look like this.

  Her mouth falls open as I undo the bun on top of my head and let my ragged, dark hair fall.

  “Um…how long has it been since you had a haircut, Katherine?”

  “Several years. I got busy and usually wore my hair up, so it didn’t matter how uneven it was. But I’d like to get something more modern now.”

  “Of course,” Claire says, smiling. “Let’s wash it first, and it will be easier to cut wet.”

  Enzo still hasn’t left the bathroom, even though I heard the shower turn off at least twenty minutes ago.

  I walk to the door and slowly open it, peaking my head inside to see Enzo in the closet buttoning up a new dress shirt.

  “More business?” I ask as I enter the bathroom.

  He shrugs. “You never know when business will arise.”

  But I realize he isn’t dressing in a suit. He’s wearing
a tux. I remember him saying he wanted to take some photos of us at our fake wedding so we would have some proof if the need arose. He must want to have it happen sooner than later.

  Which means once that’s done and word spreads that I’m Mrs. Black, it will be even harder to leave the cage I’m in. When Enzo first said he wanted to pretend to be married so we could be seen as equals, I thought he was doing it to help me. Now I think he’s doing it to keep me trapped.

  “Can I come in?” Claire’s high voice rings through the bathroom.

  “Yes,” I say, not taking my eyes off Enzo’s hard chest.

  Claire comes in, and I know her eyes are on Enzo the same way mine are.

  “Where do you want me?” I ask turning to Claire.

  She sighs, and I know the image of Enzo won’t soon leave her head.

  “Leaning over the tub. That way I can wash your hair and get a feel for your hair’s texture,” Claire says.

  I turn the water on the tub and then kneel before it.

  I can do this.

  I can do this.

  I can do this.

  I force my body still as I prepare for Claire to touch me. I close my eyes as I tilt my head forward over the tub, my elbows resting on the tub’s edge. My heart races, and my breathing speeds so fast I’m afraid I could have a stroke.

  Tears threaten.

  Panic rises.

  Anxiety overtakes.

  I jerk.

  And then I feel the touch.

  My eyes fly at the warmth. It’s too warm to be Claire’s hands touching my shoulder. Too warm to be anyone’s but Enzo’s.

  “What are you doing?” I ask as he kneels next to me.

  “Washing your hair, and then cutting it,” he says.

  My eyes search, but I don’t see her. “Where is Claire?”

  “She’s gone.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you had a panic attack. And I won’t let you suffer anymore.”

  I crinkle my nose. I don’t remember anything. I don’t remember if she touched me or not. I don’t remember hearing them talk, but they must have if Claire’s gone.

  “She laid but a single finger on you before you panicked. You completely locked yourself away into a dark place in your mind. So I sent her away. When I touched you, you came to,” Enzo explains.