by Ker Dukey
He ruined it all, though, when he showed me his true colors. I should have known the promise of a studio was nothing but a move in this big game he seems to always play. He gives me what I want, and I give him what he wants in return.
To train them. Such things are beneath my capabilities. Numbers are where I shine. I could be an asset to his empire if he weren’t so blind and hardheaded. Perhaps I’ll teach his whores math instead. That’ll show him.
A shudder quivers through me and Diana stiffens.
His eyes narrow and become more severe as though he can see the thoughts tumbling from my mind. Knowing Vlad, he probably can. He’s that good.
“Are you cold? I can send Anton back after your shawl,” she says with concern.
“I’m fine,” I promise as we reach the bottom.
“Diana. Irina.” Vlad’s clipped greeting has me diverting my gaze elsewhere. I lock eyes with a handsome man in the corner. God, anything to avoid Vlad’s stare right now.
Vlad takes Diana from me and she curls her hand around what I know is his massive bicep. He’s changed outfits and not a hair is out of place. You’d never know he slaughtered a woman in cold blood only hours ago. Vlad catches me eyeballing him and smirks. It’s brief and only for my eyes. I jerk my stare from him and smile at the cute guy who won’t stop looking at me. The guy gives me a head nod and starts in my direction.
“Looks like someone’s caught her eye,” Diana says to Vlad under her breath, pride in her voice.
Vlad jerks his head toward the guy. “Artur Voskoboynikov,” he growls.
“Indeed,” Diana agrees, as if an unknown plan of theirs is finally set in motion.
I halt, and Artur strides the rest of the way to me. Tall, lean, muscular. He’s handsome, no doubt. Best of all, he seems kind. I could certainly lose myself with a man I’m not afraid will gut me if I step out of line.
“My father didn’t lie about the Volkov beauty,” Artur says with a wolfish grin.
Vlad sneers. “Perhaps that’s the only thing your father never lied about.”
Artur takes Vlad’s jab as a joke and laughs. Deep, rich, masculine. I find myself warming to him almost immediately. I’ve heard of Artur—ten years my senior—just never met him in the flesh. His brother, Ivan, who is thirty, though, comes to meetings often with my father.
“Irina Volkov,” I say, ignoring the furious heat radiating from Vlad. He wouldn’t whip out his scary hook knife and slaughter a Voskoboynikov in front of everyone. Certainly not. “Nice to meet you.”
Artur’s smile widens and heat prickles through me at having his undivided attention. Is this how Diana always feels? As though everyone’s attention is solely on her? He takes my hand and kisses my knuckle over my glove. The heat of his breath through the material sends trembles of excitement stuttering through me.
“Let’s eat,” Vlad grits out.
Dinner goes on for hours. It’s boring and I find myself sucking down wine to pass the time. I’d assumed moving into the lion’s den would be more exciting at dinner. Instead, I’ve listened to family dramas similar to my own and other nonsense for too long. Vlad has finally taken to ignoring me altogether as he flirts with my sister.
They’re an item now.
It’s what’s expected of them.
Diana plays her part well. Blushes at his compliments. Leans in for his gentle kisses to her cheek. Offers her ear when he has a secret only she’s privy to. Despite his monstrous slip earlier today, he’s back to his usual self. Poised and dapper. Commanding and powerful. Women gaze at him with hearts in their eyes. Men wish they were him.
I’m all but falling out of my chair drunk when I see Artur watching me with a predatory stare. He’s hungry for me. Maybe I want to get eaten. A giggle slips past my lips, and Artur smiles back, then motions for me to follow him. I toss my napkin on my plate and stand. The room spins, and I grip the back of my chair to keep from falling. Anton, who sits across from Diana, narrows his eyes at me, but makes no moves to follow. She always was his favorite. Some stand-in dad he is. I roll my eyes at him and try not to stumble out of the busy room where nearly fifty people are dining. I escape into the hallway and see Artur leaning against a pillar.
He lets out a chuckle when I throw myself into his arms. Strong, capable arms keep me from falling to the floor.
“You are the most exquisite woman I have ever seen,” he praises, his hot breath tickling the top of my head.
I look up at him and inhale his masculine scent. It’s expensive and manly. Not overpoweringly addictive like Vlad’s, but it’ll certainly do. Maybe Artur can distract me from my confusing thoughts.
Vlad is a monster. So why do I still want him?
I try to kiss Artur’s mouth, but bump my teeth against his jaw when I miss. He laughs, the sound husky and adorable.
“Let’s find a place to hang out quietly. Show me to your bedroom,” he instructs.
I point toward the stairs. When he realizes I can barely walk, he scoops me up. I cling to him as he carries me swiftly up the steps and down the hallway as though he doesn’t want anyone to see. Anyone like Vlad. Terrifying images flit through my drunken haze as I envision what sort of things someone like Vlad would do if he knew what was about to happen under his roof. Would he be angry with me? Would this be the nail in the coffin for him to extinguish any apparent attraction toward me and focus solely on my sister? I decide that’s what needs to happen. I’ll make out with Artur, maybe see where the night takes us, and move on from Vlad.
“There,” I murmur, my voice a thick slur.
He carries me inside my bedroom and starts to close the door, but I stop him. A quiver of fear darts through me.
“Leave it open.”
His gaze darkens. “Kinky. I like it.”
I’m tossed onto the bed and the room spins. My dress has slipped down, and my bra is showing. He peels off his jacket, then tugs at his tie. Things are moving too fast, and I don’t feel so well. I close my eyes to keep from vomiting. Someone clears their throat, violent words are whispered, and then the door closes.
“Hey,” I groan, squinting up. “Keep it open.”
“Were you hoping I’d see Artur Voskoboynikov, of all people, fucking my fiancée’s little sister?” Vlad growls, malice in his tone. “I don’t think so.”
I stare in horror as he pulls out the same curved knife from earlier. Shiny and pristine. No longer dripping in that woman’s blood. He takes a step toward the bed and I sit up on my elbows, quickly assessing my escape routes. His eyes follow mine to the bathroom and he shakes his head.
“There is no escape, little girl. You’ve messed up and you need to be punished,” he hisses.
“I can see whoever I want,” I bite back, anger surging through me.
He strikes out with his hand and grabs my ankle, yanking me toward him on the bed. I scream and kick, but the moment the hooked end of the knife presses against my thigh where the slit of my dress ends, I freeze.
“Little Irina,” he says, his voice dripping with fury, “you see no one. Absolutely no one. You will die a little lonely virgin who lives in my house.”
The fabric rips as he begins slicing upwards. The blade nicks my hip, and then he turns it toward my stomach. I’ll die on this bed. He’ll cut me open like that woman and I’ll bleed out right here. My poor sister.
“Do you understand the rules?” he snarls, making sure the blade scrapes in a threatening way along my flesh beneath the dress as he cuts through it.
“Y-Yes,” I breathe, a sob catching in my throat.
He continues shredding the beautiful dress until he makes it to the neckline. He slices through it, and the silky parts fall to my sides, baring my undergarments to him. His gaze is lazy as he rakes it along my breasts, stomach, and between my thighs.
“You’re more than welcome to pleasure yourself as you think of me,” he murmurs, teasing my nipple through the fabric of my lacy bra with the tip of the knife.
“I hate you,” I c
hoke out.
He arches a brow and shrugs. “But you belong to me.”
“I belong to no one. Diana said you agreed on that—”
Before I can utter another word, he pounces on me, his heavy body smashing mine against the bed. His strong hand is on my throat again and his nose is inches from mine. God, his smell is intoxicating. I hate myself for being drawn to him even when he’s being a lunatic.
“She belongs to me, therefore you belong to me. Simple.”
I struggle against him, but he manages to wedge himself between my thighs. His hard body pressed against mine brings up so many dirty fantasies over the years, I’m having trouble focusing on why I’m angry because all I notice is the way my core throbs with need.
With a gentle thrust, he grinds his erection against my center. I’m dizzy and drunk and seeing stars of bliss. No longer afraid of him and driven by blind lust, I try to lift my hips, seeking more friction. Slowly, as though he’s punishing me, he rocks against me, rubbing in just the right spot. Pleasure is building, and I’m desperate for it.
“Vlad,” I whimper.
His fierce amber eyes pin me in place. For a moment, his mask has slipped and the wildness that dances inside comes raging to the front.
Bucking. Bucking. Bucking.
He bucks me right off the cliff of my mind.
I cry out in ecstasy as a quick orgasm steals over me. My entire body trembles from the force of it. Vlad’s glare softens as he glances at my lips. Then, cold and uncaring, he’s back to being himself as he abruptly pulls away.
“Wear a dress like that again and I’ll cut it off in front of our guests. Don’t test me, little Irina.” He stalks toward the doorway, but stops with his back to me. “Touch Artur Voskoboynikov again and I’ll gut him at your feet.” He turns to give me a sinister smile. “You.” He points with his vicious knife. “You belong to me. Even if I never use you. You are mine.”
Without another word, he slips away.
I toss my ruined dress to the floor and curl into a fetal position, cursing the world I’ve been delivered to.
Artur is lingering in the foyer when I come down the stairs. He paces the floor and stops when he sees me. “I wasn’t going to take advantage of her. I’m not that way and you know it. I like her,” he defends. He’s met her all of once and suddenly he “likes her.”
“You don’t know her,” I bite out, correcting his mistake.
“Well, I would like to get to know her. We could be a good match,” he offers, his expression earnest.
I have to school my features. I want to cut his tongue from his head and his touchy-feely hands from his arms, but I cannot let my emotions show. I refuse to let it slip that Irina belongs to me even if I can never have her the way I desire. The way she desires. Her face coming undone beneath me just now is scarred into my memory forever. It’s something I’ll visit to spill my seed to when Diana isn’t fulfilling my needs.
“She’s not looking for a match or losing her virginity in a drunken haze. You should know better than pulling this stunt under my roof, Voskoboynikov. Out of respect to your brother, I’m going to allow you to leave here with a warning and not a thrashing to teach you some respect and manners.”
He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. There’s irritation in his squinted eyes, being my elder and all, but he knows better than to challenge me.
“Oh, there you both are,” Diana sings as she comes floating toward us in her angelic white dress. Her dog is not far behind, lingering in the background. I used to have respect for Anton. He’s been with Leonid a long time and is a ruthless killer, but this new assignment is beneath him and laughable. His displeasure is evident.
“Where is Irina?” she asks, coming to stand by my side.
“She retired to her room,” Artur informs her. “I’m just leaving, but can you give this to her for me? Perhaps tomorrow when she wakes?” Artur hands Diana a business card with his details emblazoned on it in overly fancy fonts. He tries too hard. Pathetic.
The smile that lifts Diana’s lips could make the sun look dim. “Of course, Artur. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to give you a call.” She flashes me a look that tells me she’s thrilled for her sister.
Good luck waiting for that call to come.
He returns her enthusiasm with a megawatt smile of his own, showing all his bought veneers, before leaning forward and kissing her cheek.
“Vlad,” he grunts with a nod in my direction, then takes his leave.
Challenge accepted. Foolish man.
“I should check on Irina.” Diana touches her hand to my chest and starts to move past me to the stairs. I curl my hand around her wrist softly and let it slip into her palm, halting her. “I already did. She’s sleeping. Leave her be and finish the evening with me.”
Her long lashes bat as she reaches up to press her lips to the corner of my mouth.
“I’m actually tired myself,” she admits with a yawn. “I’d like to retire to my room if that’s okay.”
“Of course.” I smile tightly as she pulls away and disappears up the stairs. I turn to find Anton behind me. He doesn’t say anything. He’s always known his place in this world. He nods his head in acknowledgement, then traces Diana’s steps.
I look down at the card I slipped from Diana’s hand and rub my thumb over Artur’s number. Then I rip the card into pieces.
When I get back to the dining room, everyone has left. All but Ven, Rus, and Vika. Ven is typing on his cell phone while Vika talks animatedly to him. He’s not listening and it’s pitiful. Quite laughable, in fact. Rus’s eyes bore into her, but she’s too self-centered to even notice she’s upsetting her husband-to-be. Not that she’ll care either way.
“Vika!” I bark.
Annoyance ignites in her amber eyes at my presence. She swivels her head in my direction, then sits back in her chair, folding her arms over her chest like a petulant child. Her tits bulge out the top of her dress for all to see. Images of her as a small child chasing after Viktor replay in my mind, but diminish as quickly as they came.
She’s not that girl anymore and Viktor is gone.
“Join me for a night cap,” I tell her. It’s not a request, it’s a damn order, and she knows it. She’s not married yet. Her huff is audible, as is the chair scraping across the floor.
Her heels click-clocking across the hardwood floors alert me to her following my order. I walk to my office. It’s the only place that, until this afternoon when Irina invaded the space, was private and just for me.
“What do you want, Vlad? I know this isn’t pleasantries.” She brushes her hand over one of the tall bookshelves adorning the back wall. Her nose turns up as she pretends to wipe dust from her hand. “This place is really going downhill. You should hire some help who knows how to actually clean and not just polish cock.”
“Your vulgar mouth is still intact I see,” I sneer, taking a seat behind my desk.
She makes a humph sound before crossing her arms and waltzing over to my desk, ignoring the chair situated opposite it. She sits on the corner instead, knocking over a pen holder with a clatter. “Did you think sending me over there would somehow tame me, brat?”
My skin feels too tight over my bones. There’s a dull ache throbbing at my temples. I’m done with this day. I cast a glance over her attire and answer her question.
“I know it hasn’t stopped you from flaunting yourself all over Veniamin like one of Father’s prized whores.”
Her eyes narrow and her lips twist up at the corners. “Jealous?”
Jealous? What a ludicrous thing to say.
“Of my sister? Doubtful. You know better than that, Vika.” I almost chuckle, but that would be a reward for her. She doesn’t deserve a reaction of any kind.
There’s a devious glint in her eye as she leans over my desk and whispers, “Not of me. Of him. He does appear to get all the girls.”
I’m not sure what game she’s trying to play, or what she’s implying. Veniamin is a go
od-looking man who has never struggled to find bed partners. This isn’t news to me, and I certainly don’t care. We’ve shared many dirty games ourselves. “Is there something you’re trying to tell me and failing miserably at, Sister?”
“I’m just saying Ven has an appeal even the prim of us can’t deny. Why don’t you ask your fiancée what she thinks?” With that, she smirks and gets to her feet before striding out of my office like she owns the place.
What the hell did she mean by that? I refuse to let her rile me up. It’s what she intends, and I’m not that easily played. I will ask Diana what she meant by her words and she will tell me. It’s Vika being Vika. Ven would have mentioned if Diana had made any passes at him. Wouldn’t he?
Tapping into the monitors of Diana’s bedroom, I see her bed rumpled and the sound of her shower blasting. My finger hovers over the feed for Irina’s room and my head swarms with a thousand bees. She evokes such a response in me, I don’t even think she’s human. How can she have such power over me?
My finger clicks on the feed, and her room expands, filling the screen. She’s sprawled over the bed, her dress discarded in strands on the floor, and she’s still in her panties, bra, stockings, and high heels. What a vision she is. Her blonde locks fan out around her like a halo, but she’s no angel. She’s a seducer, a succubus waiting to pounce and suck out all my willpower. Slipping my cock from slacks, I rub the liquid building on the tip with the pad of my thumb. I want to use my teeth on her, mark her skin, cause blemishes to raise and sting. My handprints will look wonderful on her precious, virgin skin. I hope she’s a moaner. I’ll torment her body, drive her to the brink of euphoria and drag her back screaming and pleading for more. My tongue will taste every inch of her, plundering into her tight little hole and stretching her. Her groans will shatter into wails of ecstasy.
Squeezing my shaft to almost the point of pain, I release it and stuff it back into my slacks. I have a fiancée for this shit. Getting to my feet, I march up the stairs and slip into Diana’s room. The shower is still blasting, but turns off a few seconds later. Her movements sound through the open door, but I don’t push it open to catch a glimpse.
