Page 42

FORTY-ONE

Inessa

M y jealousy disappears when I see Ana, she’s angrier but I still ask after her little sister. She’d already been searching for years when she landed in Steorra eighteen months ago and my heart breaks for the little girl who has disappeared without a trace. Ignoring Vlad, I guide her away from whatever torture he’s forcing her to witness, and she relaxes slightly once we hit fresh air. It doesn’t last long when she sees Dima and shoots murder at him.

What the fuck have they done to the girl that she instantly hates them? Keeping her at my side, I act as a barrier between them, knowing Dima won’t barrel through me and she smiles softly.

“I haven’t found her. Yet. But I will.” Nodding without any conviction when I know the statistics, she changes the topic. “Have you been looking for me?”

I feel like shit knowing I gave up after a year of not finding anything and nod towards the warehouse doors.

“He’s my husband.”

I expect a curse or her to ask if I’m okay, instead she laughs and nearly falls into me from the force. Sobering up, apology laces her words, and she pats my shoulder like I’m not already aware of Vlad’s flaws.

“You’re married to the world’s biggest dickhead.”

The urge to defend him is on the tip of my tongue but I don’t let it out. What can I say?

Oh, he’s not that bad. Yeah he’s a murderer and beats the shit out of anyone he doesn’t like. But he makes me laugh .

I’d sound like a crazy person. So, I deflect, knowing she has no fixed address and usually spends all night in a twenty-four-hour diner.

“Have you found somewhere to stay?”

She’s too guarded and there’s blood on her chin. It coats the white strands of her hair, and she lies.

“I’m staying with my friend, he lives here.”

I don’t want to insult her and fall silent. The door opens before I can fill the gap and the devil pokes his head out. Looking at Ana, he holds the door wider, and excitement fills her at the instruction.

“Go wild, pipsqueak.”

The nickname has lead dropping in my stomach. She might be small but she’s only a year or two younger than me and I don’t like their closeness. Even if it’s open hate. I can only control my tongue long enough for them to switch places and I hate how fucking weak I sound.

“Did you fuck her?”

Vlad hardens, and he looks above my head, dismissing Dima from being an audience to his lies.

Holding my bicep, he drags me around the side of the building and I’m shorter without my heels, making me have to look up at him. Stupid tall asshole. He cups my jaw and pins me to the brick with disgust contorting his features.

“She’s a kid .”

I want to scream that his logic is flawed but manage to keep my tone even.

“She’s my age. Am I kid?”

He takes a step closer, so our thighs are touching and tilts my face up as leans over me.

“No.”

I don’t know which question he’s answering, but it seems like both.

He attempts to put me at ease, which doesn’t work with the violence brewing under his skin.

“I want to beat the shit out of her.”

He hates everyone, it’s equal opportunity loathing with Vlad. Everyone is defined by their usefulness, even then it’s short-lived unless they’re his family. I cross my arms over my chest like it’s my choice to be in his hold and my voice doesn’t betray me.

“You want to beat the shit out of everyone.”

His smile is slow and our noses brush as he leans closer. The whisper touches my lips at the same time as his thumb stroking my jaw.

“Everyone but you.”

Softening at the admission because I’m clearly fucked in the head, I wrap my arms around his middle for warmth.

“What happened, meelaya?” he asks softly.

I stare up at the blank sky, not wanting to admit I heard a woman in the background and decided to track him down.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

My lie is utter bullshit, and he moves his head, filling my vision once again.

He dips down and wraps an arm around the back of my thighs to pick me up, his other hand cups my nape, protecting my head from the brick, as he lifts me until my face is higher.

“Moyo koroleva.”

The title touches my neck, and he presses his lips to the spot, making me forget everything. He moves further up my neck, and I wrap my legs around his waist, my hands stay on his shoulders instead of going to his hair. Ever since the night that we don’t talk about, he tenses when I touch the strands. A throat clears and my entire body flames as I hide in the crook of his neck.

“If you’re done fuc?—”

His chest vibrates with anger as he cuts Ana off and barks, “Watch your mouth when you speak about my wife.”

He doesn’t let me get to my feet, his fingers dig into my thigh, and I have to wriggle to be put down. Which he ignores, and he tightens his hold on me as he walks towards the car like I’m normally carried everywhere. Dima is stood by the doors, and I examine him for any jealousy. There isn’t any, he has the smallest smile lifting his lips and Vlad sends him away.

“Get rid of everything, take pipsqueak with you.”

He doesn’t lose his anger as he puts me in the car. It’s under his skin when he gets in and he looks at me knowingly.

“Still think I touched that bitch?”

Ignoring his question for being a misogynistic prick, I stare out of the window. I’m trying to bite my tongue, but I can’t stop myself and he doesn’t react to my outburst.

“Don’t call women bitches for doing the same thing or less than what a man would do. It’s sexist and demeaning.”

He’s an asshole. I’ve heard the same thing countless times for doing the exact same thing Grandfather does. But he’s a man, so it’s applauded, it’s business and he’s ruthless. I make the same decisions and I’m a cold-hearted bitch.

Vlad slaps his hand over my mouth before I can continue my rant, and there’s no anger directed at me.

“I’m a feminist.”

I laugh into his palm because the man is the furthest thing from a feminist that anyone could be. He smiles and speaks easily, pointing out his reasoning.

“Do I protect men? No. Do I call men bitches? Yes. Do I think a woman can be just as violent and cruel as a man? Yes.”

He loosens his hold on my face and curls his hand around my nape as he does something he’s never done outside of sex. Kissing my temple, he declares his stance again.

“I’m a feminist, meelaya. I don’t give a fuck about everyone, equally.”

Wanting to hear him admit it again, I ask, “But me?”

He looks away from the road and plants a chaste kiss on my lips before he changes the answer.

“Everyone in my family is my responsibility and under my protection.”

The pit in my stomach from my previous thoughts reopens. I want his care solely for myself, not just lumped in a group because I’m attached to a name.

It gets bigger, swallowing me whole at his question.

“Are you pregnant yet?”

Sitting back in my seat, I shake my head, knowing it won’t happen. He’s never asked before, but it’s been six months and I managed to convince myself of a lie. I can count on one hand how many times he’s slept beside me and still fucking deluded myself into thinking Vlad cares about me.All because he held me when I was naked, he cleaned me up while I was asleep, there was no blood on my skin, and he dressed me. But he wasn’t there when I woke up.

He never is.

He doesn’t sense my deceit and there’s no accusation in his tone, but it sticks to me like an insult.

“Do you want to go to the doctor and get a checkup?”

His automatic assumption that I’m the one who needs a check up has me spitting back, “Maybe you need to.”

It’s immature as fuck and my anger nearly makes me miss what he says.

“I’ve gotten someone pregnant before.”

All the air is sucked out of the car. I’ve never heard of any woman being close enough that he’d trust them with his child, and I know he wouldn’t separate from his family.

For the first time in his life, he panics. It’s not as loud as a normal person. But it’s there under his finger as he taps in threes. His repetition doesn’t stop, showing it’s not calming him and the benefit of never sharing a bed means at least I can cry without an audience. He lied, there’s already an heir he keeps hidden from everyone. Just like the Vartanovs did with Viktor, surrounding him in secrecy. Vlad has done it even more successfully with his own child. I might have his last name and a bloody wedding, but I’m the other woman. Publicly I’m his wife and behind closed doors I’m the dirty secret.

I avoid Vlad by hiding in the stables, the horses are calming and brushing their coats makes me forget that I’m the other woman. The stupid prick is too good with his lies and there’s not even a rumor of him having a child. How he’s managed to hide an entire life from people is beyond me. Everyone had theories about Viktor, some were based in truth now I know who his dad is. But there’s not even a single rumor regarding Vlad having a secret child. He probably killed the nursing staff just to keep his secret.

Because it means that much to him.

Animals have good senses and can predict storms. When the horse gets restless, my body goes on alert at the steps thundering towards me and Storm Vlad is full of rage as he works his way through each stall. He finds me hiding in the last one and holds up my lifeline like it’s a question on its own. My heart is beating too fast, and I try to step around him to escape.

He’s not blocking the entrance with the wide door open, and I slip to the side. I make it one step when my legs move faster, running like my life is at risk. Any distance I could possibly create is erased before it can help me and a hand clamps on my nape. He pulls me into him and doesn’t let go of me. His face is set in hard lines. Pushing me forward into an empty stall without saying a word, he locks the gate and stands as a guard.

I haven’t formulated a believable lie, but my mouth opens to try to string words together. He takes a menacing step forward and holds the packet up again. Every deadly tone he’s used before could be combined and they would be gentle in comparison to the one leaving him now.

“What the fuck are these?”

Playing dumb, I shrug and hold my hand out.

“I can’t see them properly.”

It’s the wrong thing to do because he gets even more murderous. His eyes darken and he throws my contraception into the hay. There’s nowhere for me to run and I plant my feet as he advances. His violence isn’t dulled by the wooden slats forming the stable and it takes everything in me not to shrink.

“Why the fuck are you on birth control?”

I’m blinking, other than that one action I’m frozen. Refusing to answer his question so I don’t end up like Galya, I curl my fingers into my palms, letting the dull sting ground me.

His shout isn’t dulled and the horses in the neighboring stable whinny.

“Answer the fucking question!”

I ignore it and focus on the innocent animals he’s upsetting rather than my own feelings.

“You’re scaring the horses.”

And me .

His jaw tics and he flares his nostrils, letting out a harsh breath as though he’s going to charge. I watch his hands. They’re balled into fists, and I don’t have a weapon. The trough behind me is cold and empty, exactly like the man in front of me. His anger isn’t warm now that it’s directed at me.

“You have one chance to answer me, Inessa.”

He continues walking and I steel my spine.

Clearing my throat of any fear, I lie, “They’re old.”

The tips of his shiny shoes touch mine and he dips down, filling my vision with evil.

“Wrong answer. Try again.”

Anger radiates off him, filling his voice and eyes. He doesn’t give me any space, and he doesn’t touch me, lulling me into false security.I know what he’s capable of, I’ve seen it, but the fact he isn’t touching me allows all the lies I tell myself to comfort me again. He’s angry but he won’t hit me.

I take a fortifying breath and breathe out my answer with no emotion.

“I don’t want you to be the father of my child.”

There’s less conviction in the thought, but this reaction has me jumping back on the side that agreed. A dark laugh pierces through the air, making me flinch, and he grabs my throat, walking us back to the wall. Disgust laces his voice as he looks me up and down.

“Most women try to trap a man with a baby, and clever little Inessa has found a way to do it the opposite way.”

My hand flies out and there are no fingers catching my wrist. Vlad’s head turns from the force when my palm connects with his cheek, and he gets bigger. Jolting my body with his hold on my neck, I shrink inside at the hint of vulnerability in his voice.

“Have I raised my fucking hand to you?”

Even though his hand is currently wrapped around my throat, it’s not cutting off my air. He has given threats with a stupid smile on his face, but never acted on them. Refusing to admit that verbally, I hold his wrist pointedly.

“You’ve choked me and tried to drown me. You spanked me.”

My voice hardens with each instance I recall, and the lustful memories have me losing any fear. His twisted sadistic smile comes outas he squeezes the sides of my neck and leans further into me.

“Which you fucking loved. You want to be fucked without a purpose? Fine, I’ll make you my whore.”

My voice raises with the hurt inside me, “Fuck you. Do not speak to me like that. I am your fucking wife.”

His fingers flex around my neck and he pulls me closer, making me gasp as my hand whips out for stability against his chest. He doesn’t let me look away from him, he forces me to look up and adds more insults.

“A wife would discuss any issues she had. A whore would go behind my back. You’ve shown me which one you are.”

He lets go of my neck and I stumble back. The edge of the cool metal trough touches the back of my knees, but I can’t feel it. He takes half a step back. It’s not to give me space or even the illusion of it as his hand comes up with metal glinting in the low lights. The cold metal of his knife is barely touching my skin as he traces my collarbones, but I suck in a breath like it will stop it cutting into my flesh when he changes his mind.

He moves the blade under the strap of my dress over my right shoulder and pulls up, cutting through it. My chest is half exposed, and he keeps his eyes locked on mine as he goes to the other side silently. I don’t want his silence, or dismissals. Looking down at my peaked nipples, his jaw clenches and he flicks his eyes back up.

“Wear a bra when you’re riding. Do you want everyone to see your tits bouncing?!”

Humiliation colors my skin at his tone and I try to move back, but the wall stops me.

So, I use my voice and try to push away the way it hurts.

“I’ve told you not to speak to me like that.”

He takes a step forward and grabs my jaw. His eyes are wilder, more violent, as a small crease forms between his brows and he stares between each of my eyes individually. There’s a moment when I can see he’s found something, but it doesn’t have any light, just more darkness. It sticks to his laugh and his voice.

“They weren’t just empty threats, were they?”

I should be afraid, but I’m confused and ask.

“What threats?”

His hand tightens on my jaw and he spits out between gritted teeth., “You fucking anything that moved. How many have you fucked?”

My hand itches to slap him again but I grab his fist holding the knife. He doesn’t try to fight me as I do the stupidest thing possible and bring it to my own neck.

“Do it, if you think so little of me that I would cheat and lay in someone else’s bed, do it.”

His hands loosen, both around my jaw and the knife, but he doesn’t move and continues searching my eyes.

I increase the pressure of the knife and dare him.

“Do it, we both know you’re only projecting your sins on me.”

The stillness turns deadly, and he blinks, staring at my features before ripping his hand out of mine without the blade touching my skin.

The bar where we tie the reins is digging into my ass, making my hips push forward into the bastard as he cuts away my dress. I’m naked in a fucking stable stall and my panties are acting like a pocket square in his suit jacket. I reach forward to snatch them back because I don’t like them being there anymore, but he knocks my wrist away with his forearm and drops his knife to grab the arm.