Page 8

SEVEN

Inessa

H e’s hard in my palm, and I squeeze through his slacks, liking the feel of him in my hand. Vlad doesn’t show anything on his face, and the knife is still there as he stares into my soul. Violence stares back at me, but there’s no evidence of it in his tone.

“I was balls deep inside a good little whore when you decided to try to become one.”

I hate the prick, he’s a fucking heartless cunt. Choosing a different option than usual, I try to take over his game, acting unbothered in my current state, and squeeze his dick harder.

“Can’t be that good if you couldn’t stop thinking about me.”

I’ve done something that no one else in existence has, made the mighty Vartanov shut the fuck up.

My smugness is obliterated as he kicks at the body by his feet and nods his head towards it.

“Can’t be that good if you’re not crying.”

There’s a double meaning to his words, and I know I should feel something other than inconvenienced due to being covered in blood. There’s no betrayal in my voice as I lie and watch his eyes darken.

“I was a little sore after the club, then in the back of his car.”

It’s not anger staring back at me. It’s excitement as Vlad drops his weight down a fraction. He’s still not touching me, and my hips move, chasing the warmth ghosting my thighs. He grabs the outside of my thigh and pulls me down, making me gasp at the abrupt movement and finally getting a hint of relief. The moan choking me nearly distracts my senses from his stupid question.

“You’ve finally dealt with the problem?”

Humiliation sticks to my skin at his ridiculous thoughts. It’s an everyday thing. Age isn’t a qualifier of virginity, and his obsession grates on my nerves. He’s in his mid-thirties, and acting like I’m wrong for being a twenty-five-year-old virgin has me getting defensive.

“There never was a problem to be dealt with.”

Pushing up with his hand beside my head, he calls my bluff with a smirk.

“You should have told me sooner, meelaya. We could have spent this time getting closer to your uselessness.”

My body reacts without thinking at his insult. I push back and bring my leg up, aiming the sharp point of my heel into any part of his body I can reach. He catches my ankle, dulling the impact, and spins me so I’m lying on my front. There’s no labored breathing or proof it took any exertion as he folds my legs in half and sits over them. It’s too easy for him, and he grabs my wrists together in one hand to hold them at my back. The sharp point of the knife is covered in red as he gently lifts my hair off my face, making me breathe harder.

Bringing the tip of the knife back into view, I freeze as he taps my cheek, starting his fucking monologue.

“You’re a spoilt little princess, and you need to learn your place.”

My mouth doesn’t sense the danger, and there’s no fear in my voice.

“I’m a queen, not a fucking princess.”

This dickhead has a knife in the same hand he used to choke his own mother, but I can’t stop the battle. I need to win against him, to have the power of going head to head with the devil and winning, under my belt. He’s a self-proclaimed monster, and I don’t need to alter anything about myself with Vlad. His opinion means fuck all to me, and he’ll never be of any use.

His brain is rubber, bending and pushing everything back no matter what I do. Bringing his face closer, more pressure is put on my contorted body, making it harder to breathe without suffocating me. His words are slow and tinged in darkness.

“And a queen’s job is to protect the king.”

Leaning further into me, the very weapon I tried to use against him scrapes against the back of my thigh, making me hiss.

He doesn’t keep the pressure there and moves back. The hold on my wrists loosens, but I don’t pull my hands free as his deadly order touches my ear.

“If you try to attack me again, I won’t be as kind. Get cleaned up. You have ten minutes, or my men will assume you’re here to reward them for the night.”

He steps away, giving me space to move, but I crawl forward, ignoring his eyes on my ass.

Swinging my legs over the bed, I go to collect my discarded dress right by his feet, and he kicks it up with his foot. He catches it easily, keeping it hostage as I look for a robe to use instead.

“Wash the blood off first.”

His voice is softer. It wouldn’t be classified as gentle for anyone other than the ogre it came from, and his steps echo behind mine the entire way to the bathroom.

I’m not ashamed of my body, which he’s already seen, and leave the door open. Turning the faucet on, I wet a washcloth as he tuts, being a control freak.

“I said shower, not a whore’s bath.”

Running it under the water until it’s fully saturated, I turn with lust and anger coursing through me. The latter lessens when the wet washcloth flies through the air and narrowly misses his gigantic fucking head. I fill with authority and cock my hip pushing my foot out.

“Get on your knees and take my shoes off for me.”

Vlad pushes away from the doorframe and reaches me in two long strides. Squaring my shoulders for a blow, it doesn’t come as I’m tilted, and he throws me over his shoulder. The crack of his hand against my ass vibrates off the tile, and I squirm, wanting it to be between my thighs. His hand is huge, and I swallow my moan, holding on to his t-shirt as he massages my stinging flesh.

“Order me again, and I’ll put a muzzle on you.”

I’m lost in the sensation of his warm palm against my skin that I don’t realize he’s untying my heels until they clatter against the floor. I take the opportunity to catalog his body, knowing he can’t see me. The tight material showcases his muscular back. He probably has angel wings when he flexes. It’s a weakness, that moment when a man takes off his shirt, and every muscle constricts like building blocks of strength, is the one thing I will never look away from.

I’m weak and fist his shirt, inadvertently pulling it up to get a small insight into what I know will be there. I’m nearly drooling as he’s unveiled. It’s like an Adonis belt, but on his back, my tongue pokes out, wanting to trace the dimples of Apollo and feel him beneath my teeth. I’m slowly pulled away, and my protest is in my hands, not letting go of his t-shirt. I end up dragging it with me, and a groan escapes at the sight of his back in the mirror. The physical magnificence makes me forget about all of his character flaws. Until he opens his mouth.

“If you’re done being a pervert, you’ve got five minutes.”

His mouth is the release button for my limbs, and I let go, mourning the beautiful package that contains his tainted soul. Vlad doesn’t move back as I step under the spray and wash the dried blood from my skin. I have to extend my voice over the sound of the water.

“And I’m the one who’s a pervert?”

Looking at him over my shoulder, I raise a brow, and he curls his bottom lip between his teeth, trapping his smirk.

My body is free from any DNA, and I rinse the strands he covered individually, not wanting to look like a drowned rat. The dark red gives way to pink, and I’m pulled back by my nape as he shuts off the water. He wraps a warm plush robe around me, and fits the hood over my head. My mouth opens to ask him what he’s doing, but he grabs the tie at the waist and quickly knots the belt so tight it pinches into my ribs. I’m going to need to be cut out of the fluffy material as the psycho lifts me off my feet and holds the edge of the hood covering my face.

The only part of my body that can be seen is below my ankles and my hands as he traps my hair. Pushing back to argue, multiple heavy booted footsteps come into the bedroom, and Dima’s voice is harsh, ordering his company to get rid of everything. Other people being present cuts me off. I don’t give a fuck about what they’ll think has happened. It’s being seen as less that makes me like the hiding spot against Vlad’s chest as he walks steadily through the noise.

Footsteps follow us, making my intrigue grow as Dima asks quietly.

“Have you found a replacement?”

Whatever the vague conversation is about has Vlad turning rigid and his chest rumbles with the deep voice being more vibrations than discernible words. He presses his hand over my ear, and it doesn’t fully mute his words.

“Change of plan. We’re going with one of yours.”

I want to know their secret, but he pulls my head closer to his chest, cutting off Dima’s reply, and the secrecy makes it more enticing.

They’re all brutally loud and violent. I’ve never met someone more excited at the prospect of blood than Vlad. He can dress himself in the finest silk and tailoring, but it doesn’t dim the destructive desires in his eyes. This doesn’t match his personality. He’s not ashamed of who he is. He revels in it, and I’ll get what he keeps hidden just to hold it over his head.

My eyes close automatically as he stretches his fingers, cupping my head, and scratching my scalp through the plush material. His palm is over my ear, pressing me into his chest as it vibrates like a lullaby, and my limbs go weak as they continue talking. I’m on the edge of sleep when it stops. It’s unfair that the one bit of comfort he can offer is taken away before I’m ready.

He hums, tapping his finger in a repetition of three against my thigh, as we get in the elevator. It’s a lullaby, and I keep my body relaxed as the devil hums bayu bayushki. I’ve always thought it was creepy singing to a child about a wolf devouring them, but it’s fitting, considering I peek out from behind his hand, and those wolf eyes are staring right at me. He can’t see me due to the angle, and I feel like I’m a baby swaddled in his arms. It’s too natural, like the monster is replaying a memory instead of being a creepy fuck.

Reaching the parking level, the elevator pings, snapping him out of his hypnosis, and the humming stops. I want to ask for it back. It’s less sinister as a hum, and Grandfather always used to sing it to me when I was a girl. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from asking for it back as all the tension floods back into his body. Vlad is fully alert, checking his surroundings on the short walk to his car. He doesn’t put me in the passenger seat, choosing to keep his body blocked by the SUV as he gently lays me on the back seat. Snapping my eyes closed, I feign sleep, so I don’t have to face my creeping.

He lingers at the door and adjusts the robe to cover my body. It’s strange, and I can’t decide if I like it. I freeze for another reason as he softly closes the door to minimize the sound, and he moves soundlessly, getting into the driver’s seat, and there’s no loud roar of the engine. It’s comforting being in silence, and I lay my head back behind his seat so I’m out of view as the soft whirring fills the car. The city lights reflect into the car, missing my body entirely, and he breaks the silence.

His voice is gentle, almost innocent, and filled with calm as he speaks to someone.

“I won’t see you tonight malysh?—”

He’s like a different person speaking to whoever has his sole attention, and he even laughs. The usual violence and malice is missing from the sound, making anger flood my blood. He just called some fucking bitch baby while I’m pretending to be asleep on the backseat in nothing but a fucking robe. Not sensing my rage, the calm voice stokes it higher.

“I’m the biggest monster there is. You’ll always be safe. Now go to sleep, and I’ll wake you up in the morning.”

Vlad being his usual violent self with everyone is easier to handle. This bullshit caring side reserved for his secret fucking love is boiling my blood. I never asked to marry the prick, and he’s going to humiliate me publicly by treating me like I’m his dirty fucking fling. Laying on my back, my only rule sounds louder in the silence.

“If anyone finds out about the bitch, I’ll kill her and you. I won’t tolerate you disrespecting me publicly.”

He swerves, not expecting me to be awake, and his wide eyes look back at me through the gaps in the seat.