by K. Webster
A rap at the door has me scrambling to pull my blankets up to cover my bare breasts. “Who is it?” I call out, my voice raspy from sleep.
The door cracks open and Ven steps into my room. My heart skyrockets at seeing him look so handsome. He’s dressed in a new suit today. One of his more trendier ones versus the traditional one he wore for the wedding. It hugs his delicious body. But what has me melting is the smile on his face as he carries in a steaming mug of coffee.
“My hero,” I croak.
He chuckles as he sets it on the bedside table. “If you knew the villainous thoughts I was thinking last night when I forced myself to leave you in this bed, you might retract those words.” His fingertip brushes a strand of hair from my eyes. I lean in toward his touch. Lazily, his finger runs along the outside of my ear and down the side of my throat before he lets his hand rest at his side.
“Are you too hungover or are you ready to do some business today?” he asks, his green eyes glimmering with excitement.
I pick up the coffee and nearly moan when I get a whiff of it. Once I sip it, I do let out a sound of appreciation. “I’m more than ready to do some business. Anything to not feel like a banished princess. I need to do something.” I stare down at my coffee with a frown as I think about Volkov Spirits. I worked so hard with Irina on that. Another pang at not getting to see my sister last night hits hard. “I just don’t know what to do.”
Ven sits beside me, his hard, muscled thigh hot against mine through the thin sheet. His strong arm wraps around my waist, and he kisses the top of my head. Everything about this is so intimate but natural. With Ven, it’s always been easy. Our laughter. Our conversation. Our kisses. Had I not had to intercept Anton from creeping out on Irina and then getting caught up in his web of control, I think this thing with Ven would have happened a long time ago. Without anything at stake, I’m free to do whatever I want. And apparently, I want Ven.
“I have some ideas,” he rumbles. “I’ll keep you busy, moya roza.”
I turn to regard him. Up close, he’s just as beautiful. “Thank you.”
He leans forward and kisses my forehead. “Get showered. As much as I love seeing my cum in your hair, I doubt you’ll want to do business that way.”
I scoff and finger my hair. Sure enough, it’s hardened in one spot. “Go!” I tell him, laughing. “Get out of here so I can get ready.”
He slides off the bed and shoves his hands in his pockets. The action tugs the material over his sculpted ass, giving me more of a show. When he reaches the doorway, he turns and flashes me a devilish smirk. “For the record, I would love for you to do business looking just like that.”
He slips out of the room quietly, and I’m left touching the part of him that’s still on me. A dirty reminder. I bring the hair to my nose and inhale the lingering musky scent.
And then bile rises in my throat.
I drop the cup of coffee on the end table, sloshing it out as I do, and rush to the bathroom. I’ve barely made it to the toilet before I’m retching. The coffee I love so much tastes incredibly bitter coming back up. I throw up some more. There is no trace of alcohol in my vomit since I didn’t drink that much last night, so why am I sick this morning?
“Miss Volkov,” a maid chirps from my room. “I’ve brought you some breakfast per Mr. Vetrov. Please let me know if it’ll be to your satisfaction.”
I swipe my mouth with the back of my hand and stand on shaky feet. When I peer around the corner, she’s making the bed. Her long blonde curls remind me of my sister, and a pang of sadness explodes inside me.
“Ma’am?” I ask.
She startles and turns, her eyes wide upon seeing my sickened state. “The name is Allina. What do you need?’
“Ginger ale and crackers.”
Her eyes widen and she nods. “No pancakes and bacon then?”
My stomach roils. “N-No. Please take it away.”
“Of course, Miss Volkov. Lie down. I’ll be back with your requests.”
As soon as she leaves, I crawl back into bed.
Five minutes.
All I need is five minutes for this to pass, then I’ll be good as new.
I hope.
“Where are we going?” I ask Ven.
The weather is positively frightful today. Snow is brutal and pelting. I’m dressed in my heaviest winter clothing, and I’m still cold to the bone. Ven, though, as though a bear born from the wild, wears a long coat and a stocking cap, but nothing more regarding outerwear. He trudges along a pathway to a building behind the house that’s been recently cleared. It’s slippery on the paved bricks and twice now I’ve had to grab onto him to keep from falling.
“The viewing house,” he says over his shoulder, his deep voice not getting lost in the wind like mine seems to keep doing. He reaches the doorway and unlocks it. As soon as we push inside, I smell it.
Sex.
Bloody, dirty sex.
And the moans I hear aren’t from pleasure.
Pained moans.
Tearful ones.
He steps inside, and I follow. Once we’re both safe from the elements, he closes the door behind me. This morning, just an hour ago, this smell would have made me sick. But the sickness must have been a small hangover. After the crackers and ginger ale, I was as good as new.
Plus, I made a friend.
My father would be horrified.
Sweet Allina is so much like Irina, I couldn’t not be her friend. Innocent blue eyes. A constant smile. Always blushing cheeks. Very beautiful and young. I worry for her position here with disgusting Yegor prowling the big estate. She assured me Ven assigned her to me and that she wouldn’t be visiting other parts of the mansion. That, I am thankful for. If I’ve learned anything, it’s your staff can be just that one minute, and the next, they’re giving you a brother.
Thoughts of Vas screwing the bride last night take a back seat as I scan the room. Or rooms, rather. There’s a large one in front, but several smaller rooms are on each side lining the walls. There are abandoned pieces of clothing, whips, and random sex toys littering the middle.
“What is this place?” I demand.
Ven turns and regards me with a fierce scowl. It’s one he doesn’t usually reserve for me. His business scowl. This is business, I remind myself. “The viewing house,” he says again. “Last night, our guests could play, but today, we’re going to weed out the usable from the unusable. We’ll ascertain which mules can be sold and which we’ll keep. We’re looking for the very best to train for The Games. Sexy, seductive, intelligent. The rest, we’ll sell. Ones who are classy, we’ll want to sort those into a different category. Those will bring high price tags when we sell to the Kazakhstanis. This is something I want you to be in charge of. I’ll be training Hiss, my newest V Games trainee, and could use the extra help.”
We’re sorting women to sell.
Lovely.
“Of course,” I reply, my tone terse. “Let’s get started.”
He guides me into the first room. A young woman with blood smeared across her thighs lies curled up on the floor. An older woman, around my age, kneels beside her as she strokes her hair. Both women are stark naked and dirty. Both are shivering.
“First of all,” I bark out, anger swelling inside me. “If you plan to make them worth anything, this will not do, Ven.” I wave my hand at them. “It’s freezing out here, they’re dirty and unclothed, and it’s just plain ridiculous.”
He arches a brow at me and leans against the doorframe. “Noted. Clothes and a bath. There is a bathroom in this building with showers. I’ll work on procuring some clothing.”
“How old are you?” I ask the older woman.
“Twenty-five.” She lifts her chin and pierces me with a fiery glare. I admire her strength.
Turning to him, I say, “I want her in charge in my absence. She can manage the women out here and report directly to me. Make sure she has direct contact with me.” I dart my eyes back over to the woman with black h
air and an icy stare. “Name?”
“Nonna.”
“Nonna, see to it these women are cleaned up. We’ll bring clothes and food. I want you to make a list of what you’ll need to make this place livable.” I snap my head to Ven. “I will not have these women living like animals. We are Volkovs and Vetrovs. First Families. We do not behave like trash.”
His brows shoot up and his eyes narrow, but he doesn’t argue. “Anything else, Miss Volkov?”
“I want to see and speak with every single one of them.” My eyes fall to the blood on the young one’s thighs. “They need medical attention. Send for a doctor. I’ll want to be present during their examinations and speak to the doctor myself. See to it that she is female.”
I walk out of the room and start toward the next. Ven grabs me by my elbow, his strong fingers biting into me despite my many layers. When he turns me and backs me against the wall, panic stutters through me. Did I overstep?
His fingers are ice cold as he grips my jaw with his gloveless hand. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re in your commanding element.” His mouth finds my ear, and he tugs at the lobe with his teeth, sending currents of need sweeping through me.
I relax at his touch. “I’m serious, though. I want what I asked for.”
“You can have whatever you want, moya roza. All you have to do is ask.”
Thoughts of last night—him demanding I beg for his mouth—come flooding through me. A gasp escapes my lips. “Ven…”
He kisses the side of my cheek near my ear, his beard tickling me. “Not now, Diana. We have work to do. You can ask for that later when we’re alone.”
Bastard.
Dirty, delicious, adorable bastard.
Three days later…
Taking care of the women’s health and basic needs has demanded all of my attention. I’ve spent a lot of time with these women, but especially their doctor. She hates Yegor, I learned through simple conversation and used it to my advantage. Dr. Oksana Sokolov was disgusted at having to treat the battered and sexually abused women. I promised her I will personally see to it that their conditions improve and these men stop handling them like animals.
Neither of us spoke of the fact that we’re grooming them to sell and won’t have control of what happens then. However, until that moment, we do have the capabilities to at least do what we can.
“This is preliminary, but I’ll have more for you later after some of the other test results come in,” she says, handing me the report. Pregnancies in two of the women, STDs in over half of them, vaginal and anal tears on many, and a whole slew of other medical issues that will need to be addressed.
“Oksana,” I say as she starts to pack her bag. “Before you go, I was wondering if you could check me over. I’ve been a little stressed and have woken up sick every day. Perhaps you can prescribe me something for the sickness? I’m not sure if it’s a bug or what.”
Her eyes narrow, and I squash the feeling it instills inside me.
It’s an illness.
Definitely not a hangover. I haven’t drank a drop since the wedding three days ago. Ven has been away on business with Yegor, so I’ve had free reign over the house since Ruslan and Vika are still away on their honeymoon. I’ve been able to check on the women, make a plan for their sale, and explore every nook and cranny in the mansion.
“When was the date of your last period?” she asks pointedly, as though I’m one of the women she was just checking over.
Weeks. It’s been weeks.
I shake my head at her. “I’m not pregnant.”
I’m not.
I’m not.
I’m not.
I try not to think about the few times Anton and I were in such a rush to have sex since we didn’t have as many moments alone in the Vasiliev home that we forgot the condoms altogether.
I’m not pregnant.
“You know, at your age, I’m going to advise we take a pregnancy test to be sure. That is, unless you haven’t been having sex at all.” Her voice grows soft as she approaches me. Her short brown hair is tucked behind her ears and her brown eyes are kind. “Miss Diana, let’s just be sure.”
My eyes prickle with emotion. I can’t deal with this right now. I’m just sick from stress. That is all.
“If you’re not pregnant, the test will rule it out,” she assures me. “Then, I can treat you for whatever it is that ails you.”
I finally nod in resignation. I can’t be in denial about this any longer. I did miss my period according to my calculations, but I was hoping it was from stress. My breasts are sore and I’m sick each morning. But if I am pregnant, with Anton’s baby, a shitstorm worse than the ones I’ve already weathered will be heading my way.
She pulls a plastic cup from her bag and points to the restroom like she’d done with every woman. Defeated, I take it from her and slip into the bathroom. My hands shake as I pee into the cup. I screw the lid on and hand it to her through the door. While she tests it, I wash my hands, then splash water on my face.
I’m not pregnant.
I’m simply not.
But when I step from the bathroom and she frowns at me, I know. Tears well in my eyes and roll down my face. Anton was a monster. But sometimes he wasn’t. Sometimes he was good and loving and kind. He would have been so proud to have been a father. My chest aches and cracks open.
A good father until when?
I shove away those horrible thoughts. The way he eyed Irina at such a young age. How he fucked a sixteen-year-old girl because he could. I’m glad the bastard is dead.
“Abortion is an option,” Oksana says. “One of my closest friends is able to safely perform them. Even secretly in your own home.”
I jerk my head up, already shaking it back and forth. I clutch my flat stomach and hiss my words at her. “This baby did nothing wrong.”
She holds up both of her hands, still sheathed in latex gloves. “I agree, but I am just giving you options. You seem slightly terrified. Is it Mr. Vetrov’s? I know you’re not married yet, but as an outsider looking in, it seems as though the First Families would love that union. The two of you have quite the chemistry.”
I blink at her in shock, hot tears rolling down my cheeks.
Ven’s baby?
Her simple words provide a solution. If Yegor knows I’m knocked up with Anton’s baby, he’d find a way to kill it or me. But his eldest son’s?
I rush over to Oksana and hug her. “Thank you for all of this. I’ll find a way to tell Ven about the baby.” Even her, a newfound friend, mustn’t know the true father. “But please don’t say anything to anyone until I’ve found the courage to tell him.”
She hugs me back. “Of course not, Miss Volkov. Us females have to stick together.”
I pull away and swipe the reports from the table. “Please excuse me. I have some work to do and some thinking to do as well.”
She nods in a respectful way. “Good luck.”
I’m going to need it.
Four days of not seeing Diana and I’m going fucking crazy. Spending four days with my father in Kazakhstan is enough to drive a man over the edge. If I have to watch him fuck one more girl as young as Ruslan, I’m going to puke all over my goddamn Versace dress shoes.
Ruslan and Vika should arrive back home from Moscow this evening as well. The whole family will be reunited. Honestly, I don’t give a fuck about anyone but Diana. Thankfully, I was able to give her a cell phone and keep in contact with her in my absence. She’s handling the mules beautifully, as I knew she would. It was a test—a test she passed with flying colors. Now, it’s time to reward my sweet smelling rose.
I don’t bid my father goodbye as I stalk through the snow and into our home. Even the house smells like her now. A home where I’d always felt out of place, she makes me eager to be in. I stalk her by her fragrant perfume and find her in the office situated in my wing. Her room is just a few doors away from mine.
When I enter the space, she’s sitting primly at the desk
. Papers are strewn out in front of her and she taps away on a computer. Her dark hair has been twisted up on top of her head and secured with a pen.
Fuck, she’s hot.
She senses me and lifts her icy blue eyes to mine. Upon seeing me, warmth fills her stare. “Ven,” she greets as she rises.
My gaze falls to her tits all but spilling out of a skin-tight black dress with a low neckline. Her hips are curvy as fuck, and I’m desperate to learn each and every inch of her with my lips. I’d planned to go slow, but now that I’ve tasted her, it’s all I can think about.
“Moya roza,” I growl as I prowl her way.
She rounds the desk, and I get a peek at her sexy knees. Only Diana can make knees look sexy. I want to bite and suck on her knees, of all places. Her black leather boots showcase her toned calves and give her several inches, putting her nearly as tall as me.
“How was Kazakhstan?” she questions.
“Boring.”
She arches a brow. “Oh? Didn’t find anything to entertain you then?”
I stop walking when our bodies are inches apart. She still has to look up at me even with all the added inches on her shoes. With each ragged breath she takes, her tits touch my chest. “There’s only one thing I want.”
“Your cousins tell me you always find entertainment whenever you’re off doing business,” she challenges with a smirk.
My palms find her hips, and I draw her to my aching cock. With her pressed against me, I can barely think straight. I can, however, latch on to her words for a moment as confusion sets in.
“You spoke to my cousins?”
Her palms slide up my chest, and she pushes my snow covered coat off my shoulders. I let it fall to a heap on the floor before grabbing her hips again.
“Rodion slipped me his number at the wedding,” she replies.
“Of course he did,” I growl.
She laughs, the sound like tinkling bells. Fucking beautiful. “He was being friendly.”
