Page 36

THIRTY-FIVE

Vlad

I ’ve always compartmentalized my life. Something happens, it gets put into a file in the sorting office of my brain, and I’ll deal with it in order of urgency. Inessa has fucked that up. Her physical storming into my life and ordering me around has migrated into my head and Dima shakes his head as Anastasia’s monotonous voice comes through.

“Six minutes.”

We still haven’t found the bitch housekeeper and I send Dima’s miserable ass to get the kids as I go deeper into this fucked up warehouse. All I can see is my queen’s face falling when she saw me leave with an overnight bag. I won’t explain shit to her, but the urge is under my fucking skin.I want to know what she’s doing at this very moment which is dangerous for a multitude of reasons.

A gurgling noise comes from behind a steel door and my excitement leaves. The stupid cunt has fucking killed herself. I understand it, given her employment, she should have done it sooner.

Silently stepping through to watch another sick fuck leave this earth, there’s someone in the shadows joining my audience of one.

My hand goes to my knife and a harsh feminine voice with no discernible accent comes from my side.

“I’d stop, considering I’m better than you.”

Turning my head to the side, I have to look down to see the pipsqueak. She’s more than a foot shorter than me and a cocky fucking thing with her ski mask pulled up. Her eyes are freaky as fuck in the low light, and they shine as though there’s a film over them. The insinuation that there’s anyone who can defeat me has me reacting faster than the little cunt can anticipate and I push her back with my knife at her throat.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Anastasia’s voice crackles in my ear.

“Four minutes.”

There’s tapping in the background with her obviously hearing I’m not alone. The stupid kid smiles up at me with no sign of fear that I could end her pathetic life. She taps my shoulder with her gloved finger, her eyes widen and she’s deranged.

“I’ll give you a tip,” tilting her chin up to expose her jugular, she continues, “dig the point right here and I’ll die straight away.”

I pull my knife back because there’s no conversation that can be had with crazy. I hold it between my finger and thumb and taunt her back.

“I don’t fight weaker opponents.”

There’s something familiar about the way she bristles at the insult and tries to fight me, declaring the same. It takes a second to figure it out and my laugh bursts free. This psycho is me, she’s a dumb fuck teenager but everything down to her attitude is the same as me.Minus her ability because she’s been caught, and I actually had the ability to back up my confidence.

The reminder comes through again with more urgency.

“Two minutes.”

Grabbing the kid by the throat, I drag her with me as she punches into my side. Whoever trained her is good. She can pack a punch and knows the correct parts to hit. It’s a shame she’s outmatched. I shake her entire body with my hold on her neck.

“Calm the fuck down, I’m helping you.”

She refuses to listen, and I lose the little patience I held and slam her into the wall as the countdown continues in my ear.

She’s angry and her glare is pure murder, but I smile back, having seen it too many times on every fucker’s features I’ve met.

“You can stop being a crazy bitch or I can leave you here. In ninety seconds, the fuckers who were using this place will turn up and you look young enough to suit their clients’ requirements.”

She punches into my elbow, and I let her go as she makes a decision to get the fuck out.

There isn’t ninety seconds with having a five minute buffer in place, but the freaky kid doesn’t need to know that. If she wants to be whored out, she can feel free to wait for her new owners. It’s her fucking choice.I’m not her fucking savior.

Rushed booted footsteps follow after me and Anastasia raises her brows, seeing the tag along as I leave the warehouse. She doesn’t say any names with the newcomer and the location being too dangerous.

“He left straight away, there were eight in total.”

Nodding as pipsqueak glares at her getaway, I kick her in the shin, trying to get her to be respectful. The glare moves to me, and I don’t remove my mask or threat in my question.

“What’s your name?”

She shows her age as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Princess Olive Appleknees The Third.”

I kick her harder and she fists her hands, trying to stop herself from rubbing the sting away. But her outburst can’t be tempered as she climbs into the van.

“Stop fucking kicking me. What are you two years old?”

Her outburst has her accent becoming discernible.

Feeling smug that she’s slipped up, I copy her position and ask again.

“Kak vas zovut?”

Her anger comes out at the fuck up and she spits back, “Khuy tebe.”

My booted foot hits her ankle at the curse and I wait until we’re far enough not to be spotted to get our driver’s attention. She pulls to an abrupt stop, and I lift the little shit by her nape.

“Get the fuck off, you pervert!” She screeches.

She tries to fight me like a pathetic fuck as I drop her on the side of the road. There’s too much humor in my voice as I mimic her attempt at advice.

“I’ll give you a tip, don’t use teeth when you’re trying to pay for a ride home.”

I’m childish because I feel better having the upper hand and slam the door closed as we drive away.

Going through the house takes longer than before and Vitali sleeps like a fucking animal. Straightening his sheets, I press my fingers to his forehead, making sure there’s no chill, and leave the pig to his sty. Each room I walk through makes me relax slightly until I get to Viktor’s room. His bed is empty, the sheets are rumpled, but he doesn’t sleep on my floor unless he knows I’m going to be home. Going into Valentin’s room, I see them laid together. The son is more independent while his dad cuddles him in a death grip. I should have bought him a teddy and he might not choke his own kid out.

Viktor doesn’t have bad dreams as frequently as he did when he was younger, but the TV is on with some movie paused on the credits. I do the same check against their foreheads and find the remote that Valentin has half shoved up his ass. He doesn’t even twitch as I pull it free from under him, and turn everything off, so they’re not disturbed by the lights. I leave them, turning on the alerts as I go.

I can’t fully relax until I’ve seen Inessa and done the same thing. My body turns rigid at the breeze in the air as I step through her bedroom door. The entire fucking house is temperature controlled to whatever she could possibly want. There’s no fucking reason for a window to be open, especially while she’s asleep.

Lead drops in my stomach at what I’ll find as I turn the lights on. Old memories mix with new ones and her skin is too pale. Dropping on to the bed, I hold her cheeks, they feel cold. She’s not supposed to be fucking cold. She blinks awake and stares up at me, full of fear. She relaxes when she sees me. But her skin is cold and not the normal color.I have to blink and pull her face closer to make sure she’s not blue. Fuck, I can’t tell.

She slowly raises her hand and holds my wrists, sleep and worry fill her voice.

“Vlad? What’s wrong?”

My heart is beating too fast, and I can’t fucking breathe again. It’s like that day and Vanya won’t open her eyes. Closing my eyes, I take a breath and blow it out slowly as control comes back. Opening them again, Inessa is alive, and she’s staring at me.

Not blue . Her chest is moving . Not. Blue.

Discomfort snakes up my spine and my voice is too rough, making her harden.

“Don’t open the fucking window.”

Letting her go, I reach the offender in three steps, and it slams closed, allowing me to breathe. I’ll have them all sealed shut, or with alarms on. Soft footsteps pad towards me and she walks around my rage, standing straight like a queen with a gentle demand.

“What’s wrong?”

I stroke my knuckles down her cheek, they’re warm and I know it’s not the same.

“Just don’t sleep with the window open, use the air conditioning.”

She looks between my eyes and nods once. Taking her in fully now that my brain has adjusted to reality, I curl my lips between my teeth at how she’s dressed.

She always wears some elegant, not really made for sleep, silk thing, but she has on bright orange fluffy pants that make her look like a fucking tabby cat has taken over her bottom half. The old as fuck t-shirt has no purposeful holes in it and I fit my finger through the one on the collar. I can’t stop my need to rile her up as I ask, “You’ve spent over a million dollars on my card, and you couldn’t get something better?”

She slaps my hand away and tilts her chin in the air as she threatens what I don’t give a fuck about.

“Just for that comment, I’m spending a million more.”

Holding her hips, I walk her backwards and my dick is instantly hard. My voice drops as lust overtakes me, she’s the only person who could look beautiful in the atrocity of her outfit.

“You’re a very expensive wife.”

I’ve never missed anyone who’s alive, but this queen has been on my mind the entire time I’ve been away.

She flicks her hair over her shoulder as she smiles widely and leans up on her toes, speaking against my lips.

“You get what you pay for, lapackha. Add a few more zeroes and it’s still not what I’m worth.”

Her confidence is making me harder, and she drops down as though I don’t fucking agree. Titling her chin up with my finger because I need to taste it, Inessa pulls her head away.

I chase her eyes, but she avoids me and I’m going to kill someone. Well, someone else but I don’t give a fuck about that. She’s never shied away from me outside of her silent treatment, the woman will fuck me on any surface available. She screeches as I pull on the waistband of her horrible pants and slaps against her hips to hold them to her skin.

If someone has fucking touched her I’ll burn everything they’ve ever fucking cared about to ash. Anger wraps itself around my vocal cords, but it’s not as deadly as the feeling inside me.

“Why are you stopping me?”

She stares at my chest as she mumbles, “I’m on my period.”

Holding her nape while I try not to laugh, I point out the obvious flaw in her bullshit reasoning of being embarrassed.

“Do you think blood scares me, meelaya?”

Her nose scrunches up and she doesn’t let go of the waistband of her pants as she hooks her other arm around my middle. Inessa becomes someone shy, and I don’t like it, as she flattens her cheek against my chest.

“I don’t want you to see and my stomach hurts.”

Threading my fingers through her hair, I massage her scalp and try to soften my voice.

“The first time my dick touched you, it left coated in blood.”

It’s clearly the wrong thing to say despite being the truth and she slowly looks up glaring at me.

“Why would I think you could act like a normal person?”

She shakes her head as she pushes against my abs and walks back to the bed. She crawls under the covers and there’s a heat pad that she cuddles. My feet move, automatically going to her side. Sitting carefully so I don’t jostle her body, I press my palm over the heat pad and it’s fucking cold. She’s like an angry baby bear hugging it closer as I try to remove it. My hands have always burned hot and without the breeze in the room they’ll be better than the cold block she’s currently hugging. Fitting my hand under her shirt, she finally relaxes and lets it go.

Kicking my shoes off, I remove everything but my t-shirt until the last second, so I don’t have to remove my palm from her skin and get in behind her. She shuffles back into my chest and her hand softly attempts to cover mine as she increases the pressure and moves it where she needs. She loses any trace of sleep as she strokes my bicep with her other hand, and I hide my laugh in her hair when she moans and her legs fidget. She has a weakness for arms, it’s not even sexual.

The hesitant soft voice doesn’t fit my queen, she is always full of brattiness, and I’m alert at just her tone.

“The MC don’t like that we’re here and they tried to send Katya back with a message.”

Kissing her crown because she’s the epitome of the title she’s always screaming, I relax knowing Katya is equipped to handle shit.

“What message?” I ask.

Looking over her shoulder, Inessa lets out a sigh and smiles sadly.

“They want 60% or they’ll take it all. It’s probably more after Vitali killed two of their members.”

My life is allergic to peace and excitement bubbles inside me at the thought of war breaking out. The lazy fuckers won’t take shit from me, I wouldn’t give them a dollar never mind 60% of my hard work.

But she acts like I’m pissed at the prospect and rushes to defend in a way only family can.

“I know he wasn’t supposed to be there because he’s still doing physical therapy, but she couldn’t go on her own. They knew who she was straight away and they trie?—”

She cuts herself off and I use her weakness against her as I lift her head to my bicep and cage her in. My tone hardens when it’s not directed at her.

“They tried to what?”

She lowers her voice but doesn’t attempt to lie.

“They tried to strip her and check her for tattoos.”

Those motherfuckers. She’s a fucking kid and essentially my sister. She may not have the Vartanov name, but everyone fucking knows both Dima and Katya are within the fucking family. Inessa turns on her back and lets go of my arm to cup my jaw and show how powerful her mind is.

“We haven’t told Dima. We thought you’d want to have that conversation and tell him. You know, between husband and husband.”

I tickle her stomach and she laughs, kicking into my legs. I don’t do it long enough to hurt her and press the flat of my hand over her abdomen and pull her closer as I kiss her hairline.

“Go to sleep, you little brat.”