Page 46

FORTY-FIVE

Inessa

D ani is bright red, and I try to make her feel more at ease as I walk her out.

“You can stay for breakfast if you want.”

She smiles warmly, replaying a memory, and I want to hug Vlad.

“Does Vlad still put down the bowls like it’s feeding time at the zoo?”

I can imagine his stern face staring at a bunch of kids, telling them to hurry up and finish their breakfast, and it’s too hard not to laugh at the mental image.

I hold the edge of the door and stop her leaving. Ever since joining this family they have corrupted me, and I have to say the dumb thoughts in my head.

“Sorry we interrupted your walk of shame.”

There’s no heat in my voice and she doesn’t get offended, looking me up and down with knowing eyes.

“Sorry I interrupted you before you could get there.”

I like Dani, and if Val doesn’t fuck it up, I’ll have someone in the house other than the Vartanovs and Dima.

She’s timid and shies away as the guards look to see who’s walking out. Straightening my spine, I meet each of their stares. If the pricks even fucking try to make someone feel uncomfortable, I’ll get better at shooting by practicing on them. I’ve forgotten I’m only dressed in Vlad’s t-shirt, and they quickly turn, giving me their backs. I wait until Dani is out of sight, then spin on my heel and go back upstairs to get the gossip. There’s never anything exciting happening other than the MC causing trouble or fighting. This is better, like live reality TV full of secrets. Vitali usually watches the shit programs with me, but it’s early and I let him sleep.

Vlad is fully awake and dressed in shorts when I get back to our floor. My eagerness comes out, blocking him from leaving.

“What happened? Are they together?”

He looks at me like I’m being cute and cups my cheek, trying not to laugh.

“Together?” he asks dumbly.

He’s not that old that he doesn’t understand what I’m saying and relying on the literal definition, but I want to know and don’t point it out.

“Yeah, obviously she spent the night, and he was naked but?—”

He covers my mouth, cutting off the rest of my deductions.

Leaning down so we’re eye to eye, his jaw tics and I smile behind his palm.

“Delete that image from your brain, I’m the only dick you need.”

His wording has me laughing and I easily agree, nodding my head. I hold his wrist and pull his hand away. I have the foresight to take a step back, knowing he’ll be pissed at my filthy mouth.

“And you are the biggest dick to exist, lapackha. I usually add head at the end, but we’ll go with your word,” I say sweetly.

He lunges forward as I try to twist away and wraps his arms around my middle to pick me up. My feet are dangling, hitting his shins and I make my body go limp, liking his playfulness. His threat loses its usual heat as he nips my neck with his teeth.

“Call me a dickhead and you’ll be going back in the stables.”

It doesn’t seem like a bad trade and I’m debating whether to win twice when he says my name in warning.

I’ve never seen him train. I normally sneak into the gym and listen to a podcast or audiobook while pretending to use the equipment, but his body shows he doesn’t do that. Setting me on my feet, he kisses my forehead, making me dazed and just blink until my brain restarts. He doesn’t go to the weights but pulls tape out, wrapping his hands. I watch him and lean on the weight rack, but my body goes cold when he tells me the reason.

“I’ve got a relay tomorrow.”

Everyone in the Bratva talks about the relays. Rounds of three against another three. But Vlad is infamous for never fighting with a team. The crazy idiot will do each grouping alone and it’s only ever people who have won the last five groupings. Doing the math, lead drops in my stomach. He’s going to fight fifteen blood-crazed fools with weapons.

There’s a wide smile on his face as he warms up and he’s the most relaxed I’ve ever seen him. No flicker of concern for his life or even tension in his body. He’s training the day before he fucking fights.

“No,” my voice comes out harsh, no room for argument, and I cross my arms over my chest, physically standing my ground, “I forbid you from fighting alone. Your brothers can be in your grouping.”

He pauses and looks at me like I’ve grown a second head.

I don’t like the thought of him getting hurt, never mind dying. It’s stupid but I care about the devil, and he already has too many scars on his body. He shakes the thoughts away, dismissing me, and moves to the punching bag. My voice raises and I act like a teacher, storming after him.

“I said I forbid you.”

The stupid mats cushion my angry steps as I act like I have any right over him. He drops his fists when I push myself between his body and the leather, and he finally looks at me.

“I said, no. You’re not fighting.”

There should be fear inside of me, but there’s not.

It doesn’t come when his jaw clenches and the tension comes back into his muscles. Or when he takes a step towards me. Vlad had me bound and under his control last night and he was pissed, but he didn’t hurt me. Even when using the reins on my ass he used a fraction of the force he’s capable of.Every time he uses less and less force with me I convince myself that he’s incapable of hurting me and that he’ll keep his promises.

He holds my neck and gently strokes from my ear to my collar bone with his thumb, proving my thoughts right. It doesn’t match his rough voice and refusal to fucking listen to me.

“You don’t tell me what to do.”

Our stubbornness faces off against each other and I glare up at the asshole.

“Then I’ll be there watching, if you die I’ll kill every single fucking person there.”

Pushing his hand off me I don’t let the emotion be examined, hoping it stays in the gym so I don’t have to deal with it.

I have no idea what the dress code for an illegal fight is, but you can’t go wrong with black. It will hide any blood stains. Stasya doesn’t know the venue, and she’s stopped replying after my first question. I go on the hunt for Vlad, so he’s forced to take me with him, but he’s not in his private office.

He hasn’t replaced the lock since he broke it and I hesitate at the door. It’s always so secretive, no one other than him knows what happens in this room and I look towards the elevators as I slowly push it open. There’s nothing remarkable about the space, just a computer set up on his desk and the walls are all plain.

Leaving the office for investigating another day, I go through each floor, not coming across a soul. Even Viktor is missing which has me on alert. He’s always around the house somewhere, ordering Dima to do something or arguing with Tali, and it’s late so he should be asleep.My phone pings with Vlad’s message as I reach the kitchen and I’m going to kill him.

Vlad:

Enjoy having the house to yourself. Your face mask shit is in the kitchen and there are early release episodes of that disgusting pimple show you watch.

The bastard left me. My heels click angrily trying to punish the earth for the assholes behavior as I go to the front door. It doesn’t open. He’s locked me in. Just like my fucking parents. Why fucking talk to me when you can slip away? Who the fuck cares if I’m left searching for humanity because there isn’t any.

Rage consumes me. I want to burn the place to the fucking ground and then piss on the ashes. I asked him for one fucking thing, not love or care. But not to be left like I’m nothing. And the prick did exactly that. Going into the office on the ground floor, I search through his shit, not caring about putting things back. Even things I know are useless are thrown on the floor just so he’ll see and get pissed.

There are no details about where the fight is being held, but the burners are in his desk drawer. Stupid bastard. Loading his messages, I ignore the thread with Len and find what I’m looking for easily in his messages with Dima. I understand why they joke about them being married now. That’s the only person Vlad actually tells things too. His favorite car is going to have new additions to it, and I swipe the keys with the knife from his desk. I’ll carve my name on the hood, and then maybe I’ll be memorable.

Driving without any care for the paintwork, I speed up going down the gravel driveway, and the little pings of stone hitting off the paintwork make me feel better. Timo is a pathetic bastard and tries to stop me at the gate. He comes to my window like his shoulder isn’t scarred because of me and his bullshit authority has me revving.

“Vor gave an order, you’re not allowed to leave.”

Lying is easy and I use the hierarchy in my favor as I roll the window down fully.

“The Pakhan has requested to see me, if you want to call him and tell him you won’t allow his granddaughter to leave, be my guest.”

Fear has his eyes widening and stepping back. He gestures for the other guards to open the gate and I stop myself from flipping my middle finger up. I’m not the wife of a fucking Vor, I was semi raised on the head of the Bratva’s knee, and they all can suck shit if they think I’ll fucking bow.

I make the journey to the warehouse in half the time, and the outside is clean. I thought it would be filled with a bunch of Bratva meatheads, all eager to watch the violence. My face is blank as I walk in with purpose. I’ve never been to one of the fights. It’s never interested me to see grown-ass adults throw fits of rage for entertainment. But Vlad doesn’t get to die while I sit at home playing good housewife. He can be respectful and die in front of me, so I know whose fuck up it was.

Everyone makes a path, not knowing who I am, or looking away because they do. I can’t see any of the Vartanovs as I walk towards the barbaric cage set up in the center of the room. The closer I get the more disgusting the people are wanting a front row to a fucking kill matches. Someone grabs my arm and I try to rip it away as Katya’s voice comes out.

“With me, Mrs. Vartanova.”

It’s not a demand, but a fearful order that’s unlike her personality, and she extends her voice on my name.

She mutters under her breath as she guides me through the crowd, purposefully avoiding the front row of the cage. It’s too low for me to make out what she’s saying, and she doesn’t stop until we reach a set of doors. Slamming her hand on the wood three times, she pushes through and murder stares back at me with only one person smiling. Ana is dressed to fight and the only person who isn’t insulted at my presence.My previous anger intensifies at the thought of them initiating her, she’s young and fragile.

Vlad steps forward, still in his suit and alive with rage. Ignoring Katya, he grabs my arm, pulling me away before I can even say hello to everyone, rude prick. He stops me opening my mouth without even looking.

“Shut the fuck up.”

I’m going to get his car crushed into a fucking cube so small he can carry it on a keychain.

He continues dragging me behind him into another room, and kicks the door closed. He drops my arm as though I’m in the wrong and takes a menacing step forward.

His voice is deadly, but I don’t move back.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Steeling my spine, my anger is righteous while his is bullshit and I can only say one thing.

“You left me.”

It’s weak and stupid, but he knew it would hurt me. I’m not a monster like Vlad who has no fucking emotions and gets off on being hurt. It’s not fun for me like it is him.

He softens slightly, it’s not enough to reach his voice, and he shakes his head like I’ve missed something.

“You don’t belong here. Go home, Inessa.”

The dismissal adds to my hurt like I’m not good enough to be around a bunch of fucking criminals. Cupping my face in both hands, he plants a chaste kiss on my lips, but still barks commands.

“I don’t want you around those fucking sukas, you are better than them and I won’t be able to keep you safe while I’m fighting.”

I hold the ring finger of my right hand up and say proudly, “You’re on my skin, I thought this means I can’t be touched?”

His smile touches my cheek as he strokes my hair back, and the whisper doesn’t make sense.

“Don’t hate me.”

His lips touch my temple and I open my mouth to ask what he’s done when it’s held shut. He doesn’t just put his palm over my lips, he clamps my nose shut too, stopping me from drawing in a breath. I slap out at him but he’s holding the back of my head, applying more pressure by pulling me into his hand and his stupid fucking lips touch my crown.

“Shh, stop fighting, meelaya.”

My fist hits his ribs in an attempt to get him to let me go, but he kisses my forehead, and pinches my nose closed even tighter with his finger and thumb. His bicep hugs my cheek, but it doesn’t soften or distract me as I weakly try to push my knee up to hit him in the dick.

“You’re going to hurt yourself, don’t fight.”

The tears lining my lashes aren’t from my air being cut off it’s because he’s overpowering me. Breaking his promise again in the same fucking night.

Something jostles my body and I choke, remembering to breathe. Coughing despite breathing fine while being unconscious, I’m sat up and a cold glass is pushed into my hand.

“Take small sips,” Val says from behind me.

I blink, trying to clear my vision to see Tali stood beside the sofa. His tight-lipped smile shows he doesn’t like whatever happened and I knock the glass away, remembering what their brother did.

He’s nowhere in sight and I’m home. Laid in the lounge and propped up with Val at my back. I swing my feet down, seeing they even removed my shoes, but I hate them for going along with their dickhead brother. Ignoring the dumb fucks calling my name, I take the stairs two at a time. I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do, but it’s not sitting around waiting for Vlad to come back.

Reaching our floor, I stop in my tracks outside his private office. If Vlad wants to be a neurotic cunt having control of everything, then I’ll fuck with the one place he doesn’t bend. Pushing the door open with a smile, I look around the boring space trying to decide what to do. There’s nothing of any value and my steps are exploratory as I move closer to the desk. All the wires are hidden and there are no papers. It’s just a desk, chair, and two screens.

There are no drawers to hide anything else. I round the desk and I deflate, slumping in his seat. It’s just two wide legs with a single piece of wood facing me. How the fuck is he so secretive in his fucking hiding place? He has trust issues for his trust issues.

My foot hits something under the desk as I slowly turn side to side in the seat and I pause. There’s nothing that screams at me and looking down it’s just a kick button. Then it all changes and everything comes to life with sickening images.

There’s a boy on the screen. He can’t be more than six or seven years old with blood dripping down his chin, his eyes are wild, and he looks crazed. A happy anger burning through icy eyes I would recognize anywhere. Clicking on the play button in the center of his face, I lean forward, not understanding what horror film was recorded.

There’s no sound and I can’t imagine Vlad as the subdued child stood swaying on his feet. There’s no blood on his face yet, bruises on top of bruises cover his little body and bile rises up in my throat at the reason for him to be naked in what looks like a home movie. It’s all shaky as the person recording moves closer to him, but the quality has been enhanced. He looks up at whatever is said to him, I’m even more confused at the weird expression. I’ve never seen him, or anyone, stare like they don’t know anything. It’s like he’s locked away in his mind and there’s not even enough control to keep his eyes open.

My stomach rolls when it continues and the grown man who is recording undoes his belt. I push back when I can’t stop the bile coming up my throat. It lands on the floor and tears burn my eyes. The stupid fucking liquid doesn’t let me see clearly to stop it playing out, and this is what dying must feel like. Closing my eyes like it will stop it being a reality doesn’t help. It just has the image on my lids of a grown fucking man forcing a boy on his knees.

I don’t know how long it’s been playing, but it feels like an eternity, and I open my eyes to see how that boy became the devil everyone is afraid of. His eyes are open fully like he’s just been dropped into his little body, and I flinch, feeling the blows landing to the top of his skull. Holding my mouth closed to mute my sobs doesn’t dull them, and it doesn’t stop me throwing up. My stupid fucking comment about biting his dick off and thinking he was weird for telling me about the physics is haunting me.He looks crazed as each blow lands on his crown—punches, elbows. It doesn’t deter him, even when fingers grip his hair with such force I can see the strands leaving his scalp, he keeps his jaw clamped shut.

There must be another person with them, a woman, but their face is cut off. Long nails dig into his neck as they choke him. The room is filled with people, adults who were all hurting him, and he fights them all to protect himself. They grab his arms, one grown adult tugging on each limb, and the woman does the same to his legs as he continues to take blow after blow to his skull. But he doesn’t stop.

Gripping the edge of the desk, I don’t sit up, not daring to see anything more. He’s a boy, innocent and made to fight back when he should have been protected. My head is between my knees and the lights from the screens go off showing how long I’ve been hiding for. But I can’t move. My entire body is frozen in fear of triggering them coming back and having to see his innocence stolen.

I sob harder, remembering every fucked up conversation or cryptic thing he’s said, his need to reassure me he won’t force himself on me. Vlad isn’t the devil, he’s an angel, like the angel of death. Everyone associates him with evil but he’s not, he’s just wrapped around other people’s sins, and we wrongly assign him the blame.

I shakily straighten to my full height and the video is still playing. He spits out the blood as the abuser drops, taking the camera lens with him, but he doesn’t stop staring at it. He has blood on his teeth, dripping down his chin, but he smiles widely. This is the Vlad I know. The hurt child who found out the only way to stay safe was by hurting everyone around him.

Like my thoughts have conjured him, Vlad’s voice is emotionless coming from the door.

“What are you doing in here?”

My breath shakes in my lungs as I slowly turn to face him, and I can’t stop my jaw from quivering. The only thing I can do is something I’ve never done before, something I never thought I would.

“I’m sorry.”

My voice cracks, stopping me from continuing as a sob works up my throat bringing more acid with it.

I fold in half, and it joins the deposits on the floor. I need to apologize for everything. It’s not for what other people did but what I did. I shouldn’t have fucking invaded his space. He already had his boundaries crossed and I’m doing it for petty fucking payback. He rounds the desk and gives me a subdued smile as he picks me up with his arm under my knees.

I cling to him, my fingers twisting in his t-shirt as he ignores my hiccups and tears.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come in here,” I hiccup through the apology.

He presses his lips to my forehead before I can give him my other apology for ruining the carpet. His palm flattens over my ear, and he threads his fingers through the hair at my temple, massaging my scalp as he carries me away from his biggest secret that I wish he didn’t have.