Little Liar: A Dark Taboo Romance (The Web of Silence Duet Book 2)

Abigail was telling the truth about the Reznikov meeting being this morning. As soon as I woke up, Mom had sent me messages telling me to look my best and wear makeup. Her driver picked me up, much to Malachi’s dismay—he wanted to drive me and wait outside until after the meeting. He’s still mad about Mason. He’s quiet. More quiet than usual, but I understand he needs time.

He did make sure he fucked me before I left.

I’m currently sitting in the meeting room, my mom and Abigail present, with my brother’s cum leaking onto my panties every time I cough.

The door flies open to a hyperactive teen.

Molly helps our dad by holding the door and kicking aside Mom’s bag, earning herself a glare, then sits down beside me. She just got her hair cut and colored with some blonde flashes, and her nails are all pretty and pink after the manicure Dad bought her.

“Did you pick up the files I told you about?” Mom asks my dad, who merely nods with a hum.

They’re not getting along. Ever since the wedding—and now that my father is trying to call everything off—they’ve argued every day and barely spend time together. She’s not even trying with him, and he’s given up too.

They’ve been together for over thirty years, and it’s sad to see their relationship go up in flames because of me. I’ve never felt guiltier than I do now about their situation. If I just married Xander like the obedient daughter I was raised to be, this wouldn’t be an issue.

But I can’t.

“I finally got to meet Malachi!” Molly announces, stealing everyone’s attention. “He’s taller in person.”

Mom glares at me. “What is she talking about?”

My shoulder lifts. “I don’t see the issue. He’s her big brother.”

She grimaces then her gaze drops back to her phone. Molly glances at me, confused and unsure, but then Dad breaks the awkwardness.

“Did you try out some of the sign language I showed you?”

“Yes!” She’s beaming, a huge smile across her face. “And oh my God, Dad, he said Olivia’s name.”

Dad looks at me, a small, invisible smile playing on his lips, but it’s hidden with a hint of wariness. He doesn’t trust our relationship, and I can’t blame him. Abigail crosses her arms and says nothing.

She’s also wary about my new relationship.

Molly seems to be the only one who’s happy that I’m happy.

Mom taps her fingers on the meeting-room table impatiently while we wait for the Reznikovs to arrive.

“Malachi found out about Mason,” I tell Dad.

His shoulders drop. “I know. He was at the cemetery along from the manor yesterday. He found out by searching his name, and the news article about the crash came up.”

“How do you know?”

He taps his nose and winks.

He must still have PIs on Malachi.

Ten minutes pass, and all I can do is stare at the door while everyone works.

Dad is typing on his laptop—he hasn’t broken a breath to Mom. He doesn’t even want this meeting to happen. He’s been working with lawyers to figure out a way to have the agreement voided, but so far, it’s impossible. And for some stupid reason, the termination clause only comes into play if both parties agree to not go ahead with the marriage.

Since Xander is adamant about proceeding, I’m so far screwed.

Regardless, I won’t do it.

Abigail shifts beside me, checking her phone every two seconds, her knee bouncing in anticipation. She’s not supposed to be here—she doesn’t work in this building, and Mom said she has no place in the meeting, but apparently the Reznikov brothers were happy for her to be here despite their parents’ refusal.

Adryx is the one who calls the shots on this stuff—he said she could be here, and no one could overpower him. He’s the brains and the muscle behind the Reznikovs’ fortune and empire, but not the heir as some may assume. Something happened within the family and future ownership was passed to Xander.

The door opens, and my nerves plummet into a pit of lava.

First to walk in is Adryx and Xander’s father, Igor Reznikov, with his wife Angelina. They’re way older, both with gray hair, yet they’ve aged like fine wine. They look rich—Angelina gives me a warm smile as she sits in front of me, her husband beside her.

Adryx is next—he’s tall with dark hair, and his fitted suit shows he works out. He greets us and sits beside my father, directly across from Abigail. He’s watching her, no one else, and she keeps her eyes down as if she has no desire to be here anymore.

Xander clears his throat at the door—he’s just a wanker with an ego problem who doesn’t deserve a description.

My eyes narrow when the final person enters. He’s just as tall as Adryx, with brown hair, and he isn’t wearing a fitted suit like the others but a white shirt and dress pants, sleeves rolled up to flash an expensive watch.

However, they all look similar, definitely from the same family.

“Howdy,” the last one says as he closes the door and sits.

Is he… Scottish? And a bit Russian? Is that even possible?

“This is my nephew Sebastian,” Igor says. “He’ll be acting as a bonder during this period until he returns home to Russia to deal with my father. He’ll be the contact between families after this meeting is over.”

Sebastian grins at everyone, folding his arms and leaning his elbows forward on the table. His knees are bouncing—I can tell from the way his body is moving. He’s nearly as hyper as Molly. I think he might be the same age as me.

“Just pretend I’m not here,” he says, popping gum in his mouth. “I know that’ll be hard, considering I’m the good-looking one of the family.”

Adryx rolls his eyes. “Shut the fuck up, Base.”

“Nope.”

Igor slams his hand down on the table. “Can we begin?”

Abigail still hasn’t looked up, and Molly now looks nervous. She asks if she can leave, so I tell her to go to my office and I’ll get her once we’re done. She silently walks out.

Xander is quiet. His eyes are on the wall above my head. He looks pissed. And nervous.

The father and Adryx do all the talking.

Making arrangements for me to sign official documents. Marriage certificates, as if I’m not sitting right here. Igor addresses me as his son’s wife on multiple occasions, and then talks over my mother numerous times when she tries to explain that I’ll stay in line and do what I agreed to do.

Whenever I try to talk, they ignore me.

Sebastian is drawing a face on a bit of paper, his legs still bouncing under the desk—he keeps popping bubbles with his gum.

Dad is growing annoyed. He’s quiet. Probably waiting for them to finish so he can hit them with the legality of all this. He isn’t a famous attorney for nothing.

Adryx and Xander keep looking at my best friend. Maybe she’s rolling her eyes or huffing, that resting bitch face I’ve warned her about a million times putting a target on her back.

“We have all the documentation with us,” Igor says in his accented drawl. “She may sign, and we will leave so our children can begin their new life together. There is no argument here, Mrs. Vize. Olivia will be leaving with us as soon as she signs on the dotted line.”

I bark out a laugh. “Yeah right.”

Mom grits her teeth. “Olivia,” she reprimands. “Shut up.”

My dad shakes his head. “Why don’t we discuss this properly? I’ve worked on many, many cases in my life, so I have plenty of experience. Yes, my daughter signed an agreement but not the marriage certificate, and things can be altered. I already have a lot of issues with the contract.” His eyes move to Xander. “What exactly is it you’re getting from marrying Olivia? You have power and wealth. And going by your social media, you can have any woman or man you want, so why her?”

He smirks. “Maybe I’m in love with her.”

Adryx pinches the bridge of his nose, and their cousin snorts.

Abigail clears her throat but says nothing.

“There is no solid deadline detailed in the contract. Olivia can marry you when you’re ninety if she chooses to.”

“You’re going to get on my bad side, Mr. Vize.”

Dad looks at Igor, silently telling him that he doesn’t give a fuck if he gets on his bad side.

My father then glares at Xander. “Listen, you little fucking punk. You’re not marrying my daughter. You’ll stand up, take your brother and cousin and parents, and get the fuck out of my wife’s building.”

Igor tuts. “That’s not very generous of you, Jamieson.”

“Please,” my mom begs, grabbing my father’s arm. “This has been in agreement for months now.”

“Behind me and our daughter’s backs,” he hisses then looks back at the Reznikovs. “Olivia isn’t going with you. She’s my daughter and will stay by my side.”

Xander tilts his head. “You allow your son to fuck your daughter, so I think your view is a little distorted. If Olivia doesn’t come willingly, force will be used.”

My entire body sags, and my heart seizes on a final beat. “Is that a threat?” I spit.

“It’s a promise, sweetheart.”

“Get out,” Dad warns. “All agreements are void, and if I need to, I’ll take you to court for a harassment order to keep your family away from mine.”

Igor glares at my mother. “We honored our side of the deal. We’ll come back tomorrow to collect what belongs to my son.”

She nods. “Yes, sir.”

Dad leans forward. “Honored what?”

The Reznikovs take that as their cue to leave. The hyperactive one gets up first, opening the door for the older woman, winks at me, then vanishes. Adryx glances at Abbi before leaving, and then Xander and Igor exit, leaving the four of us in awkward silence.

“What the fuck was that about?”

Mom scowls at my dad. “None of your business, Jamieson.”

“What did they already honor?”

“Nothing.” She stands. “I’m going to take Molly out for food. Do you want me to drop you off at home?”

Dad tightens his jaw. “I want to know everything.”

Sighing, she nods. “On the way.”

He grabs my hand and squeezes. “I’ll fix this.”

I try to smile but fail. They all leave, and Abigail tells me she’ll catch up with me later then jumps out to grab lunch from across the street.

The walk to my office somehow takes forever. I’m numb. Dizzy. Scared. I want Malachi. I need him.

I bristle when I get to my office and find Xander with his back to the door, staring out the window. “What do you want?” I ask.

“Close the door.”

“No,” I respond, opening the door wider as he turns to look at me. “You can leave.”

“Despite all this messing around and arguing with my father, you are aware of the contract you already signed. For someone who works in a courthouse, you’re pretty dense.”

“I’m not marrying you. Now get the fuck out of my office before I call security.”

He smirks, staring at me for far too long, then huffs out a laugh. “You’ve completely misjudged me, dear Olivia. No one will be throwing me out of my wife’s office. In fact, I could drag you out kicking and screaming and no one would help you.”

“I’m not your wife; nor will I ever be. You need to—”

“I could fuck you over your desk and no one would save you.”

I pause, stepping back. “Like I’d ever go near you.”

“We’ll see.”

“You can leave now.” I keep my voice firm and controlled, though my hand is shaking as I tighten it around the doorknob.

And then his entire demeanor changes as his hands fist at his sides. “Don’t get on my bad side, you little brat.” He forces me to let go of the door, closing it with a click. “You will end your thing with your brother and sign the fucking marriage certificate.”

Staring, I refuse to grace him with a response or question how he knows about my relationship with Malachi. If I show I’m scared, my fear will feed into his power. Men like him thrive on control—unlucky for him, I’ve had plenty of practice dealing with my mother, which has left me thicker skinned.

But deep down, fear is wrapping around all of my organs and strangling them, even as I tip my chin up. “I’d rather die than be your wife.”

“You won’t even deny that you’re fucking your own sibling?” He narrows his eyes and shoves his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. “It’s disgusting. Do you know what people will say about you when they find out? The Vize case went public, or do you forget? As soon as Malachi comes out of hiding, and the press catches on to what you two are doing, it’ll be plastered everywhere.”

My eyes sting, but I still stay silent. That was nearly a decade ago—people won’t care what we do; they’ve probably forgotten all about the case by now.

He comes closer. “I wonder if he’ll beg you to stay when you inevitably end things? Will he use his voice? Will he struggle for his words? My father will likely cut off his hands, so he’ll have no way of communicating with you ever again.”

I flinch as he comes even closer, leaning down so we’re at eye level. “You put your brother behind bars, and now you’re opening your legs for him. You’re a fucking whore.”

Despite my insides spiraling into a deep hole, the panic rising, my heart thumping in my chest, I manage to smack him across the face with a heavy palm, laugh lightly, and back away. “It’s no wonder you need to pay someone to marry you given that you won’t stop talking. How much did you offer my mother? One million? Two?”

He smirks and rubs his cheek. “My father paid her eleven million. Now do you understand why I need to do this?”

My stomach twists, this new betrayal burning at my insides. “You’re an asshole, and no one would willingly give themself to you. Leave, or I’ll make you.”

Not that I could do a thing—he’s six foot something and a wall of muscles. Thankfully it isn’t his brother here taunting me; he’s with his cousin waiting outside.

He glares at me—then smirks again. “Unless you want my father to send his men over to deal with your brother, stop fighting this.”

Xander is tucking a lock of hair behind my ear while I stay as still as a statue, wondering if kneeing him in the balls will be more trouble than it’s worth.

The door opens. Abigail pauses in the threshold, her eyes zoned into where Xander has my hair between his fingers. He snatches himself away like it burned him then takes more steps back.

Confusion and a hint of something else takes over my friend’s gaze before she turns around and runs out of the office.

Xander swears under his breath and goes after her.

I stand in solid silence, the pounding of my heart heavy in my ears, trying to make sense of what just happened, then hunch forward, trying to breathe. I had no idea I was holding my breath for so long—my eyes burn as they water, and I can feel my pulse hammering throughout my body.

I’m sweating, and I feel dizzy as I grab a bottle of water from the minifridge and down half of it in one. I reach for my phone, and then I pause.

I should tell Malachi—I should warn him that Xander isn’t backing down and we should make a plan—we should run. I’m sure this need to marry me will vanish as soon as his father finds someone else to torment. They don’t even know me—I’m a stranger to them.

But I sit back and dig my fingers into the leather of the chair. If I tell my brother, there’s no doubt in my mind that Malachi will go into full-blown attack mode. He’ll hunt Xander, and since he’s a one-man army, Xander’s father only needs to send one order out and he’ll be dead within the hour.

My stomach twists, and I chew my bottom lip. It’s too dangerous. He isn’t the type to sit down and talk and then react. He shoved a bat down someone’s throat and snapped Parker’s legs when we were teenagers without thinking about the consequences. He attacked Adam. Dad.

What would he do to Xander? Or at least try to do? Xander is Russian, has tight security, and I think Adryx would rain hell on us both if something happened to his little brother.

Oh God.

I can’t risk Malachi’s life. I need to lie to him—again. Or withhold information. But he knows the meeting was today. What should I do? He’s supposed to pick me up from work in a few hours.

I grab my bag, lock my office, and head to my mother’s office to hunt for her spare keys. She always keeps a car here, just in case of emergency.

Right now, I guess it’s an emergency for me to get home and start working with my dad on how to stop all of this. Then I can sit Malachi down, explain things, and how it’ll be fixed. He won’t need to react and hurt people.

It’ll be fine.

I shoot Dad a message saying I’m heading over to talk.

As soon as I get out back, rain soaks my hair. I unlock Mom’s car door, toss my bag into the passenger side, and close the door, then run around the front to get to the driver’s side while trying to get my phone out of my pocket.

But a fist in my hair and a hand over my mouth snatches me from my feet and drags me, kicking and screaming into a heavy palm, to a black car.