Page 14

THIRTEEN

Inessa

I ’ve managed to get a four-foot bodyguard as Viktor comes to my side. Mara breaks our conversation and holds her hand out, introducing herself while he remains respectfully stoic. He’s not the bright, bubbly kid he is when he’s at home and I hold his shoulders, keeping him away from the harsh pricks surrounding us. They’re all drunk and they’re unreliable enough when they’re sober around anything innocent.

Mara is the same with him as she is at Steorra, making me relax.

“You look very smart in your suit.”

He preens under the attention, and he acts like Vitali, flashing her a smile and each part of his personality is carefully selected from the different parts of his dad and uncles. She doesn’t pause realizing he’s a Vartanov and my gratitude grows with her not holding Vlad’s sins against me.

He could have involved himself in any feud, but the selfish bastard chose the one person who has a tie to me. The woman who got caught up in the middle of something she should never have been involved in hasn’t returned to Steorra yet. As much as Mara says they aren’t that close, everyone has seen the women of the conglomerate together even if their husbands are icy and cold with each other. I haven’t been allowed the full details other than Maria was taken out of the country and even the guards don’t gossip about her whereabouts.

Someone moves closer to me from behind and I turn to see Dima adding himself as my shadow. His movements distract me from the bitch who’s going to be my mother-in-law. If she even attempts to relocate to the States, I’m emigrating. Her mouth is poisonous, and I can understand why Vlad choked her now. It’s not excusable, just unsurprising when taking into account her personality.

The look she gives her own grandson is filled with disgust. I protectively hold Viktor’s shoulders as he stands in front of me, and the disgust isn’t dimmed. He’s a boy, innocent and uncorrupted, but she looks at him like the devil lives in his eyes. Sipping her champagne with fake class, she pins her eyes on me, and the cunt comes out.

“You should speak with the other guests rather than stand here in the corner with misfits.”

I’m going to beat the shit out of her and then use her tongue to do it all over again. She clearly doesn’t know who the fuck the misfits are. My voice is cold giving her an introduction.

“Anika Vartanova, this is Xiomara Verelli.”

The dumb fuck realizes her mistake and plays a bullshit card, spluttering and making her accent thicker.

“Some things can get confused in translation.”

The ‘Ndrangheta matriarch comes out as Mara meets her bullshit head on.

“It seems I understood that perfectly well.”

Anika’s eyes widen and she fucks off, not wanting to ruin a working relationship further. Or she’s fearful knowing how much a full feud will cost Moscow if the ‘Ndrangheta are insulted in the Pakhans’ home.

Keeping her voice low, she hides her words from the other guests behind her flute.

“How far away is Moscow again?”

Viktor turns hiding his smile from everyone else and Dima’s smirk is in my periphery at my response.

“Not far enough.”

The hierarchy is more rigid in Russia, and Vlad’s parents would not even be in attendance if we set our engagement there. It’s laughable seeing them fill with self-importance when the waiters are more respected than they are here.

They’re nobodies. Len is a guard for some of the Vory but he’s not notable enough to be anything full time and he’s switched out like a cheap whore whenever they decide he’s unwanted. I wish we were in Moscow now, at least we’d be able to banish them outside and I wouldn’t have to watch, cozying up to my equally unimportant parents.

Whatever is going on inside Vlad’s head has him keeping his distance from me. Maybe it’s the hypocrisy of his ownership being disguised as protectiveness that has finally sunk in. I’ve taken over his room and I’ve never woken up with him beside me in the days since I’ve been forced to live in his house. It’s like he’s not even here, making my life easier.He probably sleeps underground like the other grim reapers calling after people’s souls or he’s killing people. Who the fuck knows what he classes as a hobby.

He’s a handsome devil and I can’t stop my mind replaying his touch or smell as I crawl under the sheets. There’s no sound outside the doors and it feels empty with Viktor staying with his dad. He usually comes up in the middle of the night when he can’t sleep, but maintaining an act took it out of his little body and he was asleep as soon as he was in the car.

My fingers dance, tapping against the screen of my phone, as I log into the Maximoff Media accounts. It’s only to check I look good in the pictures, not to see Vlad or how we look together. Choosing to bypass the article that’s been drafted, I go into the unused files.They’re filled with shots of my mother and father happily standing together, looking like the perfect socialite couple they project to the world.

There won’t be anything printed about the Vartanovs as a whole, only that the heiress is engaged to one of them. Criminality is always dressed in luxury. It’s why it’s so enticing. Flicking through the snapshots of guests thinking they’re important for being spotted at the engagement, I reach the ones of the Vartanovs. The only person missing is Vitali and my future husband is even more devilish in the candid shot.He stands beside his brother, Viktor standing at their feet, with Dima in the shadows. They’re a beautiful family if they didn’t look so menacing and on guard.

Everything pauses as the next slide comes through, we might not be compatible mentally with me being human and Vlad being whatever number experiment his parents managed to produce. But physically, we fit together. We look exactly like his aim, a super couple who couldn’t give a fuck about anyone else. The violent gentleman and the icy heiress, our eyes are locked on each other, not looking at anyone else while we danced.

The longer I stare at it, the more my fingers itch to move down my body. His hands are huge, inked with all his crimes, making him even more dangerous because I want them on me again. Pushing away the thoughts mentally doesn’t work, so I get up like they’ll stay under the covers without me.I’ve refused to do what he said, not out of lack of desire but the desire to do the opposite was stronger, so I’ve made sure nothing enters me because he kept demanding it. Now, I refuse to use him as a tool to come. It would be sad if I was caught and I don’t trust him not to burst into the room or have cameras just to be able to hold it over my head.

It’s dark and there are no lights on as I step out of the room. The dark makes my senses heighten and there’s a subtle beep, it’s high pitched, just on the range of hearing, but no alarm blares as I walk through the hallway. Taking the elevator down has my eyes burning from the harsh lights, but they adjust in time as I reach the ground floor and the entire space is lit up.

Everything is in the same place and there’s no one around. It’s like a ghost town, no souls are in sight, and it’s been the same the entire time I’ve spent here. I don’t expect to see anyone as I go into the kitchen. I can’t step away fast enough as Len drags his pathetic body through. We’re on opposite ends, but I can smell the alcohol seeping out of his pores and straighten my spine, filling a glass of water.I can see him watching me through the window, the night makes it into a mirror and his eyes are fixed on my ass. The silk shorts I’m wearing aren’t enough to cover me, I could be wearing a snowsuit and still feel naked with the way he’s tracking his eyes up and down my body.

He moves closer, his hand slapping out against the granite island as he stumbles and the slurred perversion makes my skin crawl.

“Ah, my son has left it to me to welcome you to our family.”

His reflection moves closer, and I tilt my chin up, meeting his eyes through the glass.

“You are drunk.”

There’s a warning giving him a way out, choosing to ignore it, Len advances.

I’m in the corner unable to escape the predator behind me and he’s too busy looking at my ass. He crowds my back as I try to make myself smaller and pull two knives from the holder. Our bodies aren’t touching, and the sick fuck is filled with excitement. His slurring is more pronounced and spit gathers at the corner of his lips as I try to move back.

“I can use my fist, or you can drop to your knees.”

I would rather drink acid than touch the old prick. Taking half a step closer, his breath touches my neck as I try to get away from his stench.

“Have you heard of ius primae noctis?”

The right of the lord is some medieval bullshit that’s not even factual. Just a bunch of old fucking men trying to satisfy their deviances with storytelling of abuse.

Pushing my shoulders back to create space, I turn before he can close it again. Him being drunk works in my favor as he stumbles, slapping a hand on the granite for stability. Stepping closer to him, I fit one knife against his throat and the other at his groin. If he doesn’t value his life, he’ll value his dick, considering that’s what fucking controls him.

My voice is deadly, and his eyes are glassy, muting the threat.

“Remember your place, you are not a Vor. You are nothing more than a shestyorka, don’t concern yourself with the rights of those above you.” The insult has anger making him ignore the blades and his hands come up.He wraps them both around my neck and pushes me back with his full weight. The counter edge digs into my spine, and I recoil as he pushes his hips against me. There’s a bulge as he applies more pressure to my windpipe causing my arms to weaken.

Vlad has wrapped his fingers around my throat before and it’s never been like this. The bastard is trying to fucking kill me, and I can’t breathe. He pulls me closer. My lungs fight for oxygen and the knives fall to the floor,each metal blade clattering against the tile, and I push against him with both hands to get him off.

“So beautiful. I’ll show you what a real man is.”

His fingers tighten further and I can’t even swallow my own spit with how constricting his hold is. He lifts me off my feet, and I weakly kick out at his legs as my vision blurs. The ball of my foot connects with his shin and my knee hits his groin. It’s not enough for him to fall, but the fingers around my throat loosen, allowing me to escape his hold.

I take a step back, my chest heaving, choking down air, but he remains in place, blocking my path. His fist comes up and I’m too busy trying to fucking breathe that I can’t block it. I brace for impact, my eyes close and my lungs burn. There’s no punch and I open one eye confused to see the devil holding his father’s wrist. Vlad doesn’t say anything, and I straighten, holding my chin up like his dickhead father wasn’t just trying to kill me.

He scans me from head to toe, his fingers flex on Len’s wrist until there’s an audible crack. He’s just broke his wrist without a flicker and there’s no scream, only a grunt of pain coming from Len. I know he’s filled with murder; it’s part of Vlad’s DNA and his first kill was at 9, but this murder feels righteous and the harshness in his voice is soothing.

“Sit down Inessa.”I think this is the first time he’s called me by my name too. It goes to my head, making me think I have more authority than I do.

I take measured steps to hide the way my heart is pounding and sit primly on the other side of the island. I’m totally fucked in the head because I have to bite my cheek to stop from laughing at the way Vlad drags his father around the kitchen. He doesn’t let him go as he opens the drawers looking for something. The man who felt compelled to choke me has nothing but fear in every part of his features, facing off the monster he created.

Dragging him back to stand on the other side of the island, he holds Len’s hand against the granite. I can’t see what’s in his other hand as his eyes flick to my neck and then he pins me with his stare making everything else disappear.

Without looking away from me, Vlad raises his hand, smashing a metal meat mallet into Len’s hand. The usually blunt spikes come away bloody under the force but there’s no loud scream, it’s muffled as though Len is keeping it in his chest.

Bones breaking and squishy flesh being mangled bounces off the walls until there’s nothing but blood against the stone. Holding the back of Len’s shirt, Vlad pulls him away and orders. “Pack your things, you have 5 minutes before I change my mind.” Len stumbles as he’s pushed away, and my chest shakes from my laugh as he scuttles away like the rat he is.

My silent laugh dies when Vlad takes a step closer to me. He abruptly stops, his eyes go to the discarded knives on the floor. I know the vow of never bowing for any man, but he takes it too seriously, kicking the handles so they fly up and catching them without lowering in any way. Slapping the knives on the granite, he fixes back on me, and my gulp is audible, vibrating around my skull.

I can’t breathe properly with my heart trying its hardest to escape my body at the monster coming closer. The chair scrapes against the floor as he drags me backwards and turns me to face him. My knees are touching his thighs and he moves back half a step, erasing the contact. His body doesn’t touch me as he gently holds my jaw, tilting my head up and examining my neck. Stroking the marks with his thumb has me forgetting why they’re on my skin to begin with. My eyes close automatically and he continues tracing the harsh red lines left behind from his father’s fingers.

He’s still in his suit and the cold metal point of the V insignia cufflinks brushes the column of my throat. He’s barely touching me, but my thighs are clenched together, and his scent fills my senses as he moves closer. Why does he have to smell so good and look the way he does? It’s unfair to the rest of the population and my hormone-riddled brain. Making it worse, his lips ghost across my neck as a shiver of excitement and lust snakes up my spine. The rough, deep voice in my ear has my eyes rolling behind my lids, ignoring the asshole commentary.

“The next time you hold a knife to someone’s throat, you do not hesitate.”

My voice comes out low at the feeling of his stubble against my jaw.

“I didn’t.”

The little scrapes add to my stupid senses, and he hums deep and low, the sound vibrating through his chest as his warm palm glides up my thigh.

“Would you kill, meelaya?”

I nod, I’m not capable of anything else with my entire body engulfed in Vlad. Soft lips gently touch my jaw and I slowly turn to meet them when awareness slams back into me at the sound of heels clicking against the floor. Dress shoes drag beside them and my eyes open. Vlad takes a step back and his hand lingers on my jaw, only being removed when his parents turn the corner coming into view.The hand on my thigh remains there, and he squeezes three times before his entire face hardens and he steps away fully, leaving me cold.