All Chapters of Love in Deceit: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

I stood frozen by the door long after it clicked shut. My hands were shaking, and the heaviness that started in my fingertips spread up my arms. My throat ached, and my eyes burned. The weight of everything Vladimir had said still echoed in the walls.“You already did,” I had told him. I wasn’t even sure if I meant it.The silence after Vladimir left wasn’t peaceful; it was deafening. But it was what I needed. I needed my eyes shut from the several whispers in my head. I had stopped listening to myself and my voice and became a puppet to the voices in my head.His voice still echoed against the walls, and the worst part was that it wasn’t the words that haunted me. It was the sincerity. The desperation. That trembling thing in his throat when he said he’d wait. I wanted to doubt him, I wanted to hate him more but mostly, I wanted to forget him, not just him, but the whole fiasco that had happened over the months.I wanted relocating to Boston or maybe go to Texas, live by the countrys

Alexei – POVThe silence in his penthouse was too uncomfortable. Too sterile. Like the kind of silence one carries when one's parents promise to take them along for a night out and leave before you can reach for the door. Alexei sat on the edge of the leather couch, his hands resting almost lifeless, his eyes fixed on the marble floor. He had become a slave to the bottle and this was rare for him. But the weight in his chest tonight wasn’t something that even the smoothest scotch could handle.She was gone. He pushed her.He loved her but when he figured she was working for Vladimir, something in him stirred up. Something negative. He saw her as a puppet to exercise control over Vladimir.But instead, he made her run.Not just from Vladimir—but from him. And that was the worst of it all.He hadn’t expected the aftermath to feel like this. Now that she was gone, everything echoed with her absence.He pressed a palm to his face and sighed.He’d won. That’s what he was supposed to bel

AYALA’S POVI woke up to the loud sound of my alarm. Most days, I wished to never get up. I have taken happiness in the dark. I rubbed my jaw and dressed in a worn hoodie, ready to launch into a day I didn't look forward to today. Today was the day I had decided to set up my painting workshop. I had postponed it so much. I had feared the outcome of my painting and, unfortunately, the cost, too. I rallied enough willpower to leave my apartment and head to the art supply store again. This time I wasn’t afraid to be seen shopping for ambition. I needed.I first stopped at a little art supply shop at the back of Walmart. The bell jangled as I entered, from the look of the shop, I felt satisfied that the prices would be nice to me. I greeted the receptionist and walked around to pick up the things I may need to start: A roll of canvas paper for overflow ideas.A medium-size canvas (reasons too big for watercolors, too small for ambition).A set of oil-based pastels—cheap but full of pro

VLADIMIR’S POVThey say time heal, but time was doing nothing to me. I decided to take my mind off it. I transitioned my energy back to my work. I spent days on my chair working. Some days I never left the office. I devised working hard as a good coping mechanism. Once again, our stocks skyrocketed. Sometimes, the greedy voice in me would reason, “maybe the separation was worth it” but my mental health begged to differ.I had gotten a new secretary, she was good and competent but she wasn’t still Ayala.One day, an application was sent to my office. I never saw the need to open it. Finally, I decided to open it, it was for an art sponsorship. It made me remember her, Ayala.Ayala had given into art all of a sudden, a part of her , I never thought she would follow through with. Ayala had become an instant wonder. It was not suprising, her art was beautiful. I was not so much into art but when I saw good art, it was difficult not to acknowledge it. I did. I acknowledge it, she deserved

Vladimir POV – Two Days After the GalaI watched her from the sidelines.Not literally, no. Ayala had vanished from my physical world the moment she ran out those gallery doors, the hem of her navy silk dress fluttering like a war flag in the wind. But I watched her everywhere else — the headlines, the interviews she ignored, the photos flooding my inbox from agencies trying to capitalize on the scene. And what a scene we had made.I had never felt so ashamed in my life.Alexei and I, raised like two branches from the same cursed tree, had brought our feud to the altar of her career. We turned her moment into a battlefield — two egos jousting for dominance in front of a crowd that only wanted to watch her shine. I had wanted to protect her. And instead, I humiliated her.I could still see the betrayal in her eyes when she looked at me. Not anger — not rage. That would have been easier. What she gave me was worse: disappointment. As if she expected better of me. As if some part of her