Page 27

TWENTY-SIX

Vlad

M ost grooms feel elated at their reception because they’re married. My joy comes from seeing Len unable to use his fucking hand. It changes course when Inessa floats back in, she should have kept the crown on her head to match who she truly is. She truly is beautiful, and it’s not due to the off-the-shoulder gown she’s wearing in all its fine silk and lace. She manages to make them look obscene and I’m glad she hasn’t removed the large veil from her hair. It gets twisted behind her as she walks, and I look from it to Anastasia, so she straightens it.

Remembering my gift, I wait for Anika to be stood in the right position as she plays happy mother-in-law with Inessa’s mother.I turn to Viktor, reminding him of his task and disguise my speech behind my tumbler.

“Have you told Inessa she looks pretty?”

His head whips around and he turns serious, whispering back, “Three big steps.”

Nodding discreetly, he slides off his seat and goes to her side with purpose. I can see him counting the steps on his fingers as he guides her away from fixing the problem.

I could make the shot with my eyes closed, but she’ll end up throwing a tantrum if I do and everything falls silent at the loud pop. Pavel rocks back, the clean shot through his forehead isn’t the same on the back of his head as the two women freeze, no longer fully dressed in white. There’s one less sick fucker in the world and I smile widely from my seat at the head table. I don’t meet any of the guests’ eyes as I hold up my tumbler and make a toast.

“May we all recognize the bride, za zdarovye.”

It won’t be difficult now that the women who shouldn’t be wearing white are covered in red and gray matter.

Valentin doesn’t visibly react and swallows his bitching with his drink as Vitali laughs, enjoying the entertainment.

“Only you would do this shit.”

The room comes back to life with murmurs as Misha and Dima instruct the guards to clean up my solution. I can already feel Inessa glaring at me, but I don’t turn in her direction and leave my gun on the table in case I get bored. We’ll have all night for all manner of her screams to come out and I wish I chose a death that exerted some energy.

Guns are lazy, they don’t have any strength behind them when any idiot can point and shoot. Pavel deserved a more gruesome end, but it is my wedding day, after all. Maximoff raises a glass in my direction, approving of what I did from his position at the bar and continues his conversation with Verelli. I’ve never stayed at a wedding beyond what was needed, and I know why now. They’re boring as fuck, and I wish I could go back in time to shoot Pavel in the head again.

Len walks towards me, already fucking drunk because he lacks control while his wife has disappeared. He stops in front of our table and Viktor pauses at Inessa’s side where it’s safe. She meets my eyes then surveys the suka before she guides the most innocent of us further away from this toxic asshole. His mouth opens, and he slams his unmarred hand on the table with pride.

“My son, don’t show weakness tonight.”

My brothers tense and try not to show their disgust as he makes no attempts to lower his voice.

“You must put her in her place, show her that strength for a successful marriage.”

I have no intention of raping my fucking wife. He leans into me, his nasty fucking liquor breath tainting the air as he lowers his voice, so it only reaches my ears.

“But the soul will be tainted, it always will be.”

His not-so-fucking-subtle reminder of Vanya has me pushing back in my seat and he has equal parts glee at the reaction and fear of his fucking life as I stand. My skin heats with every eye coming to me and I grab his shoulder, leading him away through a service door in the ballroom. The kitchen staff all pause, and my voice is pure threat.

“Get the fuck out. Now.”

Len squirms under my palm and I have the forethought to keep hold of my tongue until it all falls silent and there’s no living creature left to overhear. He’s shrinking due to age, I’m a few inches taller and I straighten my spine as I wrap my hand around his throat, so he knows he is fucking less. I’m not a child looking up at my opponent anymore. His mangled hand comes up, latching onto my wrist, but he doesn’t let any sounds escape him, it would be a weakness after all. The one thing he hates because of his own inabilities.

“You do not think about her. You do not say her name. You don’t even utter a single fucking syllable that is close to it. Am I understood?”

His nails dig into my wrist, and he attempts to strengthen his voice, but it comes out as a croak with my palm pressing into his windpipe.

“Dmitri will know.”

My fingers automatically loosen with the evidence he has of me killing the Moscow Pakhan’s brother. It gives him enough room to croak out more bullshit.

“I allowed your mistake once as my son, and she m?—”

My hand instantly tightens, his face turning red as my blood roars in my ears.

“Not your anything. She is mine. They’re all fucking mine.”

I send a silent apology to Vanya for this cunt even attempting to act like she meant anything to him. It doesn’t calm me, and I have to remind myself of my list, of what I need to complete, to wipe the stain of her being taken away from me away. I can’t be careless. I’ll achieve everything I have ever wanted in less than a year. I drop him and turn before I can lose my control.

My brothers are still sat at the table, and they don’t bat an eyelid as I go back to my seat. Valentin looks at my knuckles, then my shirt, before being petulant and sliding Vitali a rolled-up stack of hundreds. He brings his tumbler up and looks at me through the corner of his eyes, clueing me into their game.

“You lost me ten grand by not killing the prick.”

Vitali pockets his winnings and hides his puppy-like smile.

“To be fair, I just said no blood because you’re trying to give your second marriage a go.”

They haven’t let their dumb jokes drop about Dima and I being married.

Val slides an envelope towards me, and excitement floods my veins. If he has some fucker tied up in the basement of this ballroom, I’ll pick a favorite. It dies as soon as he opens his mouth.

“Wedding present brother, don’t spend your wedding night under the same roof as us. It’s weird as fuck.”

I don’t know what romantic notions they have about marriage, but I take it and nod without checking the contents. There’s fuck all to do, Anika is sat at the bar with the blood drying on her dress as she finally allows the fear to sink in. I should have used my force with her years ago, but some idiotic childish part of me viewed her as my mother and it stopped me.

Some of my boredom is chased away as Inessa comes back to the table and she smiles softly when we all stand. Taking her seat, she waits until food is served to lean into me and start her reprimand.

“Done killing our guests, lapachka?”

I keep my voice low as I stretch my arm over the back of her chair, and my eyes ahead to see if there’s a good enough excuse.

“Haven’t decided yet.”

It’s not a lie. The only people I give a fuck about are sat at this table as Viktor takes a seat between his dad and Dima.

Anastasia joins us on Vitali’s side, and I nearly laugh, hearing him flirt with her.

“You know there’s a rule that the best man is supposed to fuck the bridesmaid?”

She doesn’t pretend to be a bitch, she is one, and she’s also capable of chopping his balls off. He doesn’t react to her cold voice as she sips her champagne and twitches her nose to sell the coke-head image.

“Switch seats with your brother then, he’s the one who was stood beside the groom.”

Inessa sits primly like the queen she is, her hand lands on my thigh and gently strokes down to my knee. It’s not to fuck with me, it’s just resting there, and I stroke her bare shoulder with my thumb. Everyone on our table is engrossed in their own conversations as the food is served, and I drag her seat closer to ensure no one else hears my offer.

“Want to keep my trigger finger busy?”

Hiding my smirk behind my glass, she digs her fingers into my thigh, making me flex. There’s no blush showing on her cheeks, but her heart rate speeds up.

Flattening her palm on my thigh, she strokes down and cups my knee as she ends the fun.

“There’s no slit in my dress. You’d have to kneel under the table.”

Her hand comes back up stopping at the top of my thigh and she stretches her fingers out until she’s brushing my dick with the tip of her little finger. Her lips barely move with her offer, and she doesn’t look at me as she says, “Or I can make sure you stay seated.”

She looks at me from the corner of her eye. She can’t hide her twisted thoughts. I won’t come in my wife’s hand in a room full of pricks who can’t be trusted.

Threading my fingers through hers, I move temptation away and she deflates, misunderstanding my reason. I lean closer to her and try to dispel any idea that she isn’t making me hard as stone without even touching me.

“I don’t trust anyone in this room other than those who are sat on our table. You can’t divide my attention right now.”

She straightens her shoulders and keeps her chin up, eyes forward, watching everyone else like me.

No expense has been spared in our penthouse suite for the night. Both floors below us have been booked out and Valya has guards ensuring no one can come up. He’s learning for once in his life.He’s taken initiative and I can settle knowing he’ll be a Vor soon.

Inessa nervously looks around, pulling my attention to her without even realizing. She’s always so confident and it needs to come back because nerves don’t suit her features. Loosening the tie around my neck, I give her personal space and try to soften my voice.

“Are you tired?”

Her head moves slowly, and she looks so small, timid, as she shakes her head, standing near the hallway to the bedrooms.

Undoing my top button so I can breathe easier, I walk towards her and take it as a win when she doesn’t move back. She leans into my touch when I cup her cheek, another win, and I give her the most honesty anyone has ever received from me.

“I won’t force you. You can go to sleep if you want.”

She doesn’t look relieved but confused and her brows come together with her question.

“Why?”

An invisible hand tightens around my lungs, and it bring out the truth with too much emotion.

“I won’t have a child conceived from rape.”

Tapping against my thigh to shake away any haunting memories, she relaxes and smiles up at me. My hand falls as she turns, giving me her back and the usual brat comes back, looking at me over her shoulder and giving an order.

“I’m not tired, undo my dress.”

There are at least fifty little buttons, and I don’t even attempt to undo them. I take out my knife and position my finger against the other side of the blade, so it doesn’t touch her delicate skin as I pop each loop holding her dress in place.

I’m not mentally prepared for how insane she looks with nothing other than thin straps of lace going across her back and the scrap between her ass cheeks is nearly fucking invisible. Her dress falls away, with it having no straps, and the mesh of her veil makes the picture in front of me even more erotic. I stop her removing it and clear my throat to remove any dryness, making my order half a plea.

“Keep your heels, veil, and gloves on.”

It goes down to her feet and I step back for the full image.

There’s nothing but lace on her body and even her feet are covered in little boots made entirely from the material and tied together with a bow at her ankles. They don’t go above her ankles and the extra four inches in height push her ass out perfectly. There are a million things I want to do to her, but I keep walking back until my calves hit the armchair.

Shrugging out of my suit jacket, I remove my tie, eating up the vision of my wife and she turns, assessing me right back. My eyes want to roll back at how fucking beautiful she is, and my knees feel weak as I take a seat. I stretch my legs out to stop the discomfort of my dick pressing against my zipper and circle my finger. She slowly turns, doing a 360. I’m torturing myself by staying seated, but I need the image imprinted in my mind.

Lust darkens my voice and I only manage to get out one word.

“Crawl.”

The command has fire staring back at me as my erotic queen lifts her chin and straightens her spine.

“I don’t bow to any man.”

Pride fills me at her strength, and I shake my head at her mistake.

“Crawl, meelaya, not bow.”

Understanding falls over her as I widen my legs and her twisted smile is in full force. Whatever Inessa is going to do will most likely bring me to my knees mentally as she gets on hers physically.

Dropping to her hands and knees, she lifts her ass in the air and sways her hips, closing the distance between us. The veil attached to her hair flows behind her body in waves and she is the perfect vision in white lace crawling for my dick. She’s innocently filthy and filled with power while being in a submissive position. An enchanting enigma of a true queen who knows when to bend in order to break those around her.

There’s going to be a zipper imprint on my dick, but I don’t relieve the pressure. She moves slowly, sensually, until she’s between my spread legs and my queen doesn’t remain kneeling. She gets to her feet, and I stop her when she’s in a squat position with my fingers on her chin. Awe wraps itself around her new title.

“Moya .”

The brat strokes up my thighs and brings her face closer, trying to hide how much she loves being called a queen. Those dark eyes are alive and her lips twitch as she softly fires back, “I’m not calling you king.”

If there’s ever a day where she doesn’t have a smartass comment I’ll know she’s in trouble. It’ll be a code to check if she’s safe.

She stretches like a cat, lifting her ass in the air and knocks my hand away from her face. I’m still fully dressed while my wife stands in nothing apart from lingerie and a veil but the look on her face makes me feel like the one who’s exposed. Chasing it away physically, my fingers wrap around her hips pulling her closer and the abrupt movement has a squeal brushing my jaw. The little giggle after it, has me turning rougher, not liking how she’s fucking with my head.

Wrapping an arm around the back of Inessa’s thighs, I lift her as I stand and throw her over my shoulder. If I spend any more time looking at her face, I’ll combust. She’s working herself under my skin, this can’t go beyond what was agreed, not when it ends with my death.

Heading towards the bedrooms, her ass is literally in my face, and I’ve never been a saintly man. Stroking up the back of her thighs, my lips press into her skin through her veil, and I score my teeth down her flesh, watching the skin turn pink. Reaching the curve just below her ass, my fingers straighten, pushing between her legs and the moan behind me is nothing but rocket fuel for my dick.

There are no fancy decorations to make this into more than it should be as we reach the bedroom. The sheets are mine. I can smell the detergent from the threshold of the door. She slowly slips down my body and I grab her waist before her toes can touch the ground and throw her onto the bed. She bounces. The veil gets caught under her hip and all the pins keep her hair in place, apart from a few loose curls which fall free. She rips the veil out of her hair and lifts up to pull it out and throw it behind her.

Inessa sits up, leaning on her elbows and holds her leg up to me.

“Take it off.”

Her need to be a brat is going to hurt her tomorrow.

I’ll be gentle once and then the virgin gloves are off.

Holding her ankle, I lift her leg higher until her foot is near my shoulder. She scrambles as I tug and grips the sheets between her gloved fingers as I lift her ass off the bed.

Doing it again until the only contact on the bed is between her shoulder blades, desire coats my voice, dulling the usually unvoiced threat.

“I am not your dog to order and train.”

Fake innocence stares up at me with a pout and my fingers tighten around her ankle at the way her mouth works.

“But you’d look so pretty in a collar.”

I drop her leg and exchange it for her neck. There’s no fear in her deep brown eyes as I pull her up, so we’re nose to nose. She’s dark and twisted, challenging hell, because she’d be bored ruling heaven.

I don’t trust myself to taste her smart mouth and tilt her head to the side at the last second. It’s not a kiss to her cheek, my teeth nip at her, and she moans right into my fucking ear. My dick is going to hate me, but I stop myself and take a step back, reminding myself it’s her first time and she needs preparation. Disappointment has her face falling when I’m being a gentleman and step away. It turns into confusion as she sits up on her elbows, watching me pull a chair to the foot of the bed. I take a seat and tap the armrest. She moves reluctantly, not understanding and needs words.

“Ass on the end of the bed and feet up here. You’re going to do as you’re told for once.”