Page 6

FIVE

Vlad

T he doctor looks fearful before I’ve even fully stepped in the room. Never a good sign. Standing to the side, I wait for the fucker to stop speaking in medical terms like I’m one of his peers.

“Will he be able to walk?”

I don’t give a fuck if Vitali has a limp for the rest of his life or needs a stick or a wheelchair. I just need to know what accommodations need to be made.

Swallowing around his fear, the doctor plays diplomat, not wanting to promise shit after the fuck up his previous colleague made with Viktor when he was sick.

“His chances are good with the joint not shattering. Only time will tell how well he will heal. He needs to keep any weight off it for six weeks and then physical therapy.”

I nod and open the door, telling him to fuck off without the words.

Dima stands guard at the edge of the hall, knowing not to let anyone close as I watch the doctor toddle away as fast as he can. I wait for him to escape and turn to my brothers. I don’t even need to look at Valentin to know he’s getting close to one of his tantrums again. Speaking to the one that’s injured, I give him the truth now we’re alone.

“You done good Vitya, how you feeling?”

He holds his palm in the air and begins tilting it as he speaks through a dopey smile.

“Got a drill through my kneecap, but I’ve also got morphine, so it’s balanced.”He groans in mental pain rather than physical before complaining, “You could have told me they were here. I would have stayed in that fucking basement for some peace.”

He fills with hope as the drugs work through his system, making him babble. “Do I get out of family time because I’m so weak a little girl had to save me?”

His pout is even more exaggerated as Valentin ramps up his tantrum and loses control of his tongue.

“You went too fucking far with that shit.”

We grew up with the same parents, but he’s forgotten what they’re like. He had a year longer with them than Vitali, so he has no fucking excuse. Ever since Viktor landed at the gym, he’s had this need to make me soften. Looking at him head-on as Vitali starts to drift, I keep my voice low not to disturb him.

“Would you prefer Len was allowed to speak? We both know he isn’t mute but only communicates with his hands.”

Before he can open his mouth without thinking again, I give my order, “Go sit with Inessa and make sure that cunt stays away from her. I don’t want Maximoff to hear that he’s already fucking grabbed her.”

His anger locks on to a new target, and I reassure him before he can leave.

“Viktor’s on my floor. He knows not to come down.”

He pats my shoulder in thanks before he leaves as I keep watch over the kid who isn’t mine.

It feels like I’m seventeen again as I pull a chair beside Vitali’s bed. All those nights, I’d check they were breathing in the middle of the night, and it doesn’t change now as I stare at his chest slowly moving. His hair is matted, dirty with blood and whatever else they managed to put on him. I may not be their father, but I’ve raised three kids who aren’t mine from birth, changed their diapers, and fed them. I’ve done everything for them, and no fucker will take them out of this world.

He’s asleep, and I move silently, filling up a bowl with warm water and grabbing three washcloths to wipe the shit from his hair before he wakes up and bitches about it. He’s conceited and spends an obscene amount of money on every type of skincare or haircare product available, so he’ll be pissed about me only using water, but it’s better than leaving him dirty.

I’ve only got it off the front portion when his lashes flutter, and the morphine has fully taken hold, making him spew his hidden thoughts.

“I used to tell people you were my batya in Sankt Peterburg.” Stroking his hair back, I kiss his forehead, giving my own admission as I sit back down.

“You’re my kid brother, so still my kid.”

He can’t even keep his eyes open, but he doesn’t struggle to open his mouth.

“Ignore Val, he just imagines Vik in every situation, and I think it hurts with the whole Carly thing, you know.”

They’re both each other’s diaries, and I use the opportunity to get what I can. Crossing my ankles as I stretch out, getting comfortable, there’s no emotion in my voice.

“Did he love her?”

He taps his temple, and his words are delayed, making him look deranged.

“No, she fucked with his head. Said a little baby can’t live around us and that you’d probably kill him for crying in the middle of the night.”

The bitch deserves to die for a multitude of reasons, but blaming shit on me is low as fuck.

The devil doesn’t corrupt the young. There’s no challenge in it. Righteous do-gooders are the ones who prey on them. They want to save their souls by snatching the very essence of innocence away because they’re weak. The man who hides his sins is always more sinister than the one who wears them openly.

Vitali doesn’t offer any more, falling back into unconsciousness as I tap the edge of the armrest, soundlessly counting out what made me, what kept me, and what will sustain me.

I can’t force myself to leave until the last minute. Having the vultures here makes me wish I could fucking clone myself. Giving myself thirty seconds more, the door creaks but doesn’t open more than a crack, cutting my time short. It’s not Viktor. He knows not to leave until one of us tells him it’s clear. I’m expecting the worst of humanity to drag her body through the door, but it’s Inessa’s face that appears. Seeing that the patient is asleep, she gestures to the hall, fucking commanding me like I’m her junior.

Her need to feel powerful is going to cause her unnecessary pain, but she’s hellbent on it. I won’t repeat my earlier mistake, allowing Len’s predatory behavior to fuck with my head, and her fear comes back as I stand. It’s always muted. She’s not afraid of me but herself around me.I want to study her and find the exact reason that she can meet my eyes. It’s been my goal since I was thirteen, and I’ve never failed at it. Other than my brothers and nephew, every single person I come across is unable to hold direct eye contact.

Until Inessa.

I pull the door open fully, causing her to sway, but she doesn’t fall. Correcting her step, she walks with purpose and sends Dima a glare to leave. Nodding my head, he takes his leave, and Little Miss Bratva Princess comes out.

“You will come to an agreement with the Kadares and never involve any of the women who have not taken the oath.”

She’s strong and has a spine of steel. It will do her good once we’re divorced, and she has to put up with people’s comments.

Her tenacity is endearing. It almost has my respect growing, but it’s not earned. She was born with power and never worked for it, making her easy to crumble. Taking a step closer to test her spine, she moves back into the shadows. It’s intoxicating, and my lips curve up with twisted joy.The lack of fear is fake. She’s still looking into my eyes, though.

My words come out too low as I dip down so we’re eye to eye.

“Would you also like me to bark at your command?”

She runs out of space to escape and looks behind her as she hits the wall, losing the false authority. My voice is cruel as I call her attention back to me.

“Since you’re under the assumption I’m your bitch to train.”

Her hands come up, palms flat against my chest, and I look down. She doesn’t push me away, and her pulse jumps as she looks in a triangle between my eyes and lips.

Despite her physical retreat, she speaks with strength and fixes her eyes firmly on mine.

“I won’t allow you to hurt an innocent girl, not when it will impact my life.”

I harden with the reminder of how entangled she is. She doesn’t realize that she’s only the powerful piece on the board due to being caught up in the games of others.

Her tone is harsher as she gives a command, “Steorra will remain a neutral zone.”

Her charity isn’t my concern. It helps strengthen the bond with Verelli and the ‘Ndrangheta. The argument is moot when Inessa is asking me to protect something that’s in my interest. Wanting to see how important it is, I look down her body suggestively.

“What would you do to convince me?”

She doesn’t learn from her previous mistakes. Her hand comes up, and she gasps as I catch her wrist, pulling her closer.

Hurt and anger weave through her words as she cuts off my threat.

“I’m not a prostitute.”

There’s a part of my brain that thinks of the most absurd thing in every situation, and I want her to erupt, so I let it free.

“I am spending a lot of money for you to be my wife. You can understand the confusion.”

I expect tears or a fist, a knee to the dick, or anything but pure pain on her face as she moves back like I’ve struck her.

A bitter laugh flows out from her plush lips, and the hurt is visceral, thickening the air. Disgust has her face contorting. She does the same scan of my body like it’s coating her tongue with salt every inch she travels. Flicking back to my eyes, her shoulders are straight, and her voice steel.

“It’s the only way a woman would tie herself to a fucking monster like you. Your mother should have swallowed you.”

My hand moves automatically, covering her filthy mouth. Pride wars inside me at her beautifully vicious mind. She’s strong, and in any other circumstance, I’d admire that strength. But she keeps directing at me as though I’m someone beneath her. The sound of heels clicking comes through the hallways and stops me from doing anything further. I’ve told her countless fucking times about her language, to speak with respect, but she’s fucking insolent. Dragging her with me, I don’t let go of her face, and I can feel her teeth through her cheeks as I push her to the end of the hallway away from the other bitch coming closer.

Inessa may be a spoilt fucking princess who overestimates her place, but no fucker deserves to deal with Anika. She’s the final level of hell reserved for the worst in existence. For once, there’s no remark as I shut her away and take silent steps, lurking in the shadows of my own home to see what the vulture is doing.

She stops at the mouth of the hallway and tilts her head to peer down it. It adds to my suspicions as she moves closer to Vitali’s door. She isn’t a loving mother checking on her son. The robe she’s wearing leaves nothing to the imagination of whichever fucker would turn his head to look at her. Her fingers have barely brushed the wood as I block her path, and her disgust can’t be hidden.

There’s no fear in her eyes. You don’t fear what was forged within the hell you created. She’s pissed at my existence and her own sins walking freely. She attempts to move past me, and I’m fucking fed up with these women thinking they can do whatever the fuck they want when they are unwelcome guests.

Her face turns red instantly as I grab her throat. It makes me smile as I feel her windpipe constrict. It gets wider when her head knocks into the plaster and her hands slapping against my arms weaken. Dragging her up the wall, I feel the lightest I’ve ever felt in my life. This is what was missing from my childhood and pure joy comes over me as her heels clatter against the tile.

Loosening my hold slightly when blood vessels pop under her skin, my voice is deadly.

“Stay the fuck away from him.”

There’s no threat she’d take it as a compliment, and I can’t get my fingers to move after finally getting so close to the one thing I dream of. I flirt with killing her, it would be so easy, but I haven’t worked so hard all my life to end it before I get every single one of the cunts who took everything from me in the first place. It will happen at the perfect moment. Once I know that the three people who are under my responsibility are the safest they can possibly be, I’ll be in the position to have one final purge of the planet.

Her lashes start to droop on the edge of unconsciousness, forcing me to let go, and she falls in a heap, choking and rubbing her neck.Taking a step back when my foot begs to fly into her fucking face, my bark has her stumbling.

“Get the fuck up.”

We were put through worse and still fucking stood. She can see what it’s like when the position is reversed. She feigns emotional pain staring off into the distance as the bitch commands her tear ducts to produce one measly tear and scrambles, searching for her shoes.

Anika never lets anyone get the last word. She’ll be covered in blood, and her dying breath will be cruel to get one final scar against someone’s soul. The silence has me filling with unease as she drops her chin to her chest and walks away. Tapping in threes against my thigh, I chase it away and go to deal with my own business. The blood will relax me, and I’ll be at ease.