Page 12

ELEVEN

Inessa

C old and unfeeling has a new definition after trying to antagonize Vlad. His eyes never lingered on me before, he’s always been disinterested. Now it’s replaced with revulsion, like my presence alone is turning his stomach. I feel like a child sat in the back with Viktor as we go to Grandfather’s house. Valentin hasn’t spoken a word after a rough head nod in acknowledgement and their parents are staring through the windscreen of the car behind in excitement of being seen in the Pakhan’s home.

We park away from the gates, and I wish I stayed at the house and offered to wipe Vitali’s ass while he’s resting. It would be preferred over whatever masquerade is going to take place inside. Valentin turns into an imposing figure as he gets out and keeps his son by his side. There are no smiles or laughs as they walk, both looking like they hate each other when I’ve seen them together. He’s a good father and his son adores him, yet no one would be able to guess that, as they join the flow of people.Since Vlad allowed me to know that Viktor isn’t his son, they’ve interacted in front of me and the usually cruel Valentin is nothing other than a doting father when he’s away from other people.

My hand pauses on the door handle as Vlad finally speaks.

“Once we go inside, you will be linked to me. You won’t be viewed as Inessa Mikhailovya but Mrs. Vlad Vartanova.” Looking at me through the mirror, his eyes harden with threat. “Don’t do anything to embarrass my name.”

It turns deadly at my muttering.

“Because it’s so fucking respectable.”

He’s a callous monster and acting like there’s any disrepute I could bring to his name is annoying as fuck. I could slaughter the city and people wouldn’t bat an eyelid in comparison to his sins, or any of the other Vartanovs’. The rumors are endless about them all, from the whispered stories of Vlad’s first kill when he was a child to the muttering about how they all share women.

The reflection is only a few inches, but his gaze is filled with evil pride sticking to my skin as he smirks, aware of my thoughts.

“Exactly, don’t be weak.”

With his parting shot given, he steps out of the car and into the gentleman persona. He opens my door for me, and I straighten my spine, keeping my face void of any inner thoughts as we walk in.The guests are still arriving and none of them meet my eye with the presence beside me, his hand comes up in claim against my lower back. The only warm part of this man is in his hands, the rest is either arctic or hellfire with no ability to compromise between the two.

It’s tradition to go through the agreement again, a bullshit exercise where my father will be present. He was only ever capable to become one biologically and even that I’m not 100% sure he managed. I’ve attempted to ask about my real DNA when I was a child, but Grandfather didn’t allow the conversation. As far as he was concerned, I’m his granddaughter and he didn’t want to entertain any talks on the topic, knowing that gossip feeds the vultures. No one stops us as we continue walking into the house, the foyer has been cleared. I always loved the large, walnut table in the middle for the memories of running into it as soon as I left my parents’ house and I stare at the spot, hating that it has been removed to make a clear path for the guests. The marble is sparkling and doesn’t show any signs that it was there.

Walking into Grandfather’s office with the devil beside me fills me with strength. All of these old bastards quickly avert their gaze, the years of being dismissed because I don’t have a dick have officially come to an end and they don’t leer at me. It makes me soften towards Vlad and I take half a step closer to him to absorb some of his power. I’m not na?ve enough to believe that he wanted to marry me for any of my own attributes. It’s common practice to align yourself with the most powerful piece on the board. But I’ll use him right back and let everyone believe the lie of his protection over me.

My father steps forward. His eyes are dark, almost inky blue, and he bypasses me to hold his hand out to Vlad. I don’t know why I expect any different, but it would be nice for him to acknowledge his only daughter on the day she’s having her engagement. Grandfather stands back and meets my eye. He doesn’t smile, he stands taller and hardens his gaze, silently telling me to do the same, before we take our seats.

It’s the most business-transaction-like engagement to exist as we sign our names agreeing to the date.

“The dates have been set and you will both be crowned in glory, honor, and respect.”

Hearing my father speak boils my blood, he hasn’t been in my life unless Grandfather requested my parents presence since I was seven years old. I actively choose not to take in a word in refusal of his existence like he has with me. The inept bastard struggles to tie his shoelaces without being distracted by whatever fancy gets his attention at the time. As long as it’s not something that would ever need to rely on him, he’ll excel for that short period of time it holds his attention.

There are no memories being replayed of my childhood as his tongue weaves a lie of a doting father. I want to scream, tell everyone about the time I was left at school for four hours until Grandfather was called when the teachers were leaving. Or the time we went to Moscow for a wedding, and I woke up in a different country, alone and unable to control my tears because I was six years old, and my parents decided the hotel staff would know what to do with me while they went to Samara to see an art show.

A hand lands on my knee, Vlad’s inked fingers wrapping around the joint and squeezing. It’s not painful or comforting, but a reminder not to react. I trace the omyt inked on the back of his hand and calm washes over me as my finger moves, it has my full attention despite my eyes fixed ahead. Each of his hands are filled with different marks, the only thing that brings me comfort about the man himself is the lack of heart inked onto his skin and the eagle isn’t carrying anything. Vlad is a monster, but his moral line is drawn on his skin. He’s not a rapist, or he’d have the symbols inked on him as a warning.

He stretches his fingers out and slowly moves up my thigh. Stopping in the middle, he taps in a pattern of three starting with his forefinger. He does it three times and everything else becomes white noise. There’s a pause between each tap as though he’s making a list and the movement isn’t forceful, just the softest brush against my dress as the pad of a finger kisses the fabric.

It’s always three times. I’ve seen him do it for years and he’s never went past that number. 1, 2, 3. Pause . He starts again, moving on to his middle fingers. 1, 2, 3. Pause . Doing the same with his ring finger. 1, 2, 3. Pause . He restarts the repetition with his forefinger.

It stops as I curl my fingers around his palm, and I regret the decision instantly. I didn’t want him to stop or move his hand, I just wanted to feel his movements more clearly and I pull my hand back before he can get pissed about it.

Everyone stands dragging me away from the comfort I’ve found as my mother walks in with Dariya behind her. The traditions are bullshit and if anyone is the matriarch of our family, it’s the woman who has stood behind the one trying to fulfill a role she doesn’t deserve. My cunt mother pushes her chest out as she sways her hips and comes to stand in front of Vlad and me. She doesn’t try to hide the way she’s looking at him and pushes her shoulders together as she uncovers the embroidered cloth and holds the loaf out to us both.

The gentleman tears a piece off, handing it to me before himself and I hate this part of Vlad. He’s too easily charming without realizing. In another life, he would be a caretaker. It’s there in his character in little ways — brutal nurturing hiding underneath all the violence.

Accepting the false blessings from a vicious tongue, we stay behind the others as Grandfather goes to make the announcement. Vlad’s palm is on my lower back, radiating warmth through my spine that has me leaning against it. The tapping starts as soon as people step forward giving their congratulations and I turn rigid when Pavel moves closer.

He’s like a snake slithering through the grass and I take half a step back, hating the way his eyes make me feel dirty. The soft taps against my spine stop as my devil becomes alert. Curling his hand around my hip, he pulls me closer to his side and protectively turns his body into me. At six foot whatever height he is, Vlad is easily a head above me and Pavel hesitates. It’s minute, barely a missed step as he slows down, but I feel better.

Valentin moves from Vlad’s side coming to mine without a word exchanged and Viktor even has an intimidating stare as he looks at the crowd. People view me as a cold-hearted bitch, but I’m a fluffy cuddly teddy compared to the three Vartanovs curled around me.I like the protection, how they’re insulating me, and I place my hand on Viktor’s shoulder. He tenses taking a step to the side as he maintains his glare at the rest of the guests.

Grandfather is filled with pride as he looks at me, it’s not discernible for anyone else. He’s a tough, guarded man, and he saves me from having to accept Pavel’s filthy touch announcing it’s time to exchange rings. Vlad has a twisted smile on his handsome face as he holds my right hand stopping me from leaving. His brother and nephew follow the other guests out and pushes the ring I didn’t choose on to my finger. The stone is the same, but the band is wider than what I originally selected.

Kissing my cheek, he lingers with his soft lips on my cheek, whispering only for me.

“Try taking this one off.”

Moving to my other cheek, he holds my hand hostage stopping me from doing as he said. The last ring he gave me was the equivalent of a dog pissing on their favorite tree to mark their territory. It was huge and gaudy, a large V that resembled a collar more than an engagement ring. I won’t wear either of them for longer than I need to, and I’m stopped from attempting to remove it as he guides us out of the room to a marquee at the back of the house.

The music starts as soon as we enter, and the gentleman facade is good for dancing with. He keeps hold of my right hand and he doesn’t step on my toes or move too fast. There’s no one close enough to hear us, but I keep my voice low, not wanting to humiliate my family.

“This isn’t the ring I picked.”

He’s a twisted fuck and smirks down at me proud of himself.

“It’s better. You can’t remove it without causing damage.”

Inspecting my finger on his shoulder, I can’t see anything that looks out of place, but he’s too smug.

His lips brush the shell of my ear, making a shiver work up my spine and everything else ceases to exist.

“You’re my bride now, the offer I gave you at the beginning has ended.”

We’re wrapped around each other in an innocent dance, but my brain is mistaking his proximity. There’s something about being in Vlad’s arms, feeling his biceps flex under the luxurious suit that makes me want to drool. This close, my nose is right near his pulse point, it’s intoxicating. Sandalwood, amber, cardamom, and something musky has me leaning in, wanting to eat the smell.

My steps falter as I bite back a groan when his bicep flexes under my hand. He’s wrapped up in the most beautifully dangerous package to exist with every single thing that I have ever been attracted to in one man. The warning he’s attempting to give me isn’t able to fully sink in and I sound faraway in my lust.

“What offer?”

He pulls me closer so there’s no space between our bodies, his voice is deeper, huskier, and making it harder for me to concentrate.

“You’re mine to fuck as long as that ring is on your finger, meelaya.”

Desire is coursing through me. This feels too much like foreplay and I want him. Physically, only.

Taking one last inhale as the song comes to an end, I feel cold stepping back. I don’t get a second glance as Grandfather replaces Vlad and his warmth seeps out despite the stoic face.

“You’ve made me a proud father, docha.”

Emotion chokes me like it always does when he refers to me as a daughter rather than a granddaughter. He doesn’t add anything else, and my eyes automatically go to Vlad.

He’s in conversation with the old boys club, the gentleman is still in control of his body, but his fist is clenched at whatever his father is saying. We continue turning in a slow circle giving me the opportunity to look around the hall. Xiomara Verelli is stood off to the side observing everyone and my returning smile is genuine. She’s ethereal in a gold Grecian gown that highlights her bronze skin, making her glow. Everyone else is tied to my family, but she’s the only person who’s here for me.

Our friendship may be unorthodox, given her ties to the Albanians, but Steorra will always be separate from the feuds. I’ll spill blood myself if anyone even attempts to change that. Not only to protect the carefully crafted friendships there, but for the children and families who need it.It’s the one place that offers the child inside me what they need, and charity is inherently selfish. No one does good to help other people, it’s settling something inside themselves, some unresolved anger or deep pain. It makes me feel less alone knowing I’m removing it from other people’s lives while also being surrounded by children who can understand that abandonment.

I kiss Grandfather’s cheek as the song comes to an end and there are no lines of guests waiting to cut, so I can make my escape. Stasya stands beside her mother and stepfather, and she gives the smallest smile known to man. She used to run around the garden with me when I was a child, I’d force her to take away all the dolls Dariya gifted me in exchange for a chocolate. All those childhood memories flood back, the excitement of planning our weddings and promising we’d be each other’s bridesmaids when we didn’t understand what a wedding was other than standing in a cathedral in a pretty dress wearing a crown.

Walking steadily towards the bar, Pavel stops me. He’s as slimy as he was when I was thirteen and visiting my parents. I hold my body taut, it’s a reflex that I can’t help as he touches my shoulder and kisses my cheek. I don’t move to stop myself from throwing up on him. His lips linger on my cheek, and I pull my head back using the Vartanov name for steel.

“My husband won’t appreciate your closeness.”

It’s like my new shield and he steps back automatically. Stepping around him, I go to Xiomara and her husband is like a shadow behind her with an emotionless face.