by Lylah James
“Or is it that you don’t trust me?” I raised an eyebrow in question.
A small change in his expression. The tiniest flinch. A little furrow in his eyebrows. But I caught it all.
Bullseye.
Crossing my arms, I leaned back against the couch, getting comfortable. “I just hit the eye, didn’t I?”
“No,” he growled low.
I was itching to take out my knife and cut his tongue out for lying to me. But I had mastered the art of controlling myself over the years.
Right now, he was the Boss, and I was the underdog.
Not for long, though, the devil on my shoulder whispered. He liked challenging me, laughing in my ears, reminding me of the games that were being played.
But oh, how he tested my limits every single time. Him and the fuck face sitting behind that table.
“You are scared this little plan of yours will fail. You are scared I will betray you and go back to them,” I hissed, just to make him angrier.
I liked him angry. The way his face would turn red like he was tempted to shoot me. But unfortunately for him, he couldn’t.
It was all part of the game. A little ruse we had built around us.
“They think I am dead. They even had a little funeral for me. We have kept the charade on for a year. They have no idea what’s waiting for them,” I continued before he could say anything.
I hated it when they would interrupt while I spoke. He knew that and stayed silent. Not surprising. He was a little coward in disguise. Without me, he was nothing.
Sitting back in his chair, he regarded me silently, waiting, calculating. “And what will you do when you go back there?”
“Gain their trust again.”
He laughed, a full belly laugh that I was highly hoping he would choke on.
Unfortunately for me, he didn’t. Sad life.
“You think you can gain their trust? After everything? After disappearing for a year and making them believe you are dead,” he grumbled, his thick Russian accent very obvious.
Whenever he was angry or frustrated, his fake English accent would vanish into thin air and reality would take its place.
“I believe you are questioning my abilities now,” I returned rather very calmly.
“I am not, but your plan does not seem easy, Konstantin.”
Konstantin. I fucking hated this name. Every time it was uttered, I wanted to smash someone’s head into the wall.
But he would purposely say it every time. A way to remind me of who I actually was. Whose family I belonged to.
Not the Ivanshov.
I was no longer an Ivanshov.
I cleared my throat, trying to calm the anger rising inside of me. “What makes you say that? Artur did it for years. Why can’t I? If they were able to fall into his trap, imagine how easy it would be for them to fall into mine?”
Artur had played the Russian King, infiltrated their home, and stayed there as family. Except he was just a pawn, a player of the game. He was a cunning liar and betrayed the family. He had sided with the enemy and chosen the wrong side. In the end, it had led to his death.
But before his blood was spilled, he had played his game well, for many years.
If he could do it, I easily could too.
“They won’t believe it,” Valentin said through gritted teeth, now losing his thin patience. “Alessio ne poverit.”
The veins in his neck bulged in fury, and I fought the urge to laugh. So much anger yet he couldn’t do a single thing about it.
Alessio wouldn’t believe it, he said. Of course not. But someone else would…
“Ayla will.”
My voice was loud and clear. I spoke the two words that silenced everyone. He took a deep breath through his nose, holding it in.
His eyes flared in surprise as I smirked for him to see. He started to shake his head, but I raised a hand, stopping his tirade.
Standing up, I walked over to his desk. Both my palms made contact on the surface as I leaned forward, caging him in. “She will believe me. One word and she will believe me. Ayla is too fucking naïve for this game. The moment I have her wrapped around my fingers, Alessio will have no choice but to follow. He is like a little dog after her. If Alessio falls in my trap, the whole family will.”
My face was mere inches apart from his when I spat the words. “Guess what? The little Queen is going to be their…unfortunate downfall.”
His lips curled up in distaste at the mention of Ayla. “You think you can win her?”
“Absolutely. You know, I am deeply hurt by your lack of faith in me,” I added before leaning back.
I tugged at my tie, suddenly feeling like I was going to suffocate. “For a year, I have been trying to get you to trust me, yet you still don’t.”
He quickly stood up, shaking his head in disbelief. “Of course, I do. You are my heir. My reign is coming to an end. I am doing this for you. If we win this little game, one day, the four families will belong to you,” he sputtered.
Moving forward in a flash, I grabbed his collar and pulled him closer, his feet almost leaving the ground. “Then start treating me like your heir instead of your fucking slave. You don’t want to test me, because the moment I am in control, your ass will be in a gutter somewhere, understood?”
He choked, his face turning bright red. “I know,” he breathed.
“Good,” I said as I released him.
“If you’re scared that I will choose them again, then your fear is misplaced. Remember, they left me for dead,” I grumbled, facing the wide windows.
The darkness of the night shadowed everything. Every evil in this world.
I was killed in the darkness too.
And then I was resurrected in the darkness.
This time…I was the Master of the game. Everyone else would just be dancing to my tune.
Without turning my back, I spoke. “Don’t forget. This is my game. My war. You are just a part of it.”
He didn’t answer, but I felt his fear vibrating, feeding my dark soul. Such a sad sight, to see him cowering to me. And it was just the beginning.
“Konstantin, I wouldn’t have saved you if I didn’t trust you,” he said slowly. He meant his words to be believed.
Funnily, I believed them. Because they really were the truth.
Unfortunately for him, his first mistake was saving my life.
From the corner of my eyes, I saw him rubbing his neck. It was already bruising. He stared at me with wide eyes, waiting for my next response.
“Then show it. From now on, I will be living in your main estate. Since you saved me, I had to stay here. I wonder what you are hiding in your estate?” I replied slowly, watching his every reaction through the dark-tinted glass.
He fidgeted with his tie before answering. “Nothing. I made you stay here in order to protect you. We had to hide your identity. But if this is what you want, then I will have your stuff moved to the main estate. You can stay there for however long you want. It’s yours, after all.”
I hummed in response. My eyes tracked every single fidget. He was nervous, and I was more curious.
This was another move on the chess board. Every move was part of the perfect ruse.
Perfect betrayal. Perfect lie. Perfect revenge.
I loved the chase. The prey falling willingly into the jaw of the predator. Too bad, so sad.
Without making eye contact with him, I swiveled around. He stayed beside his desk, watching me walk away with hawk eyes that I felt burning into my back.
My men followed behind me, and I reveled in the power of having everyone underneath me, on their knees. The corner of my lips turned up as I thought of how this was going to end.
My feet stopped just in front of the door. The room was silent, waiting for my next words, my next move.
With my hand on the door knob, I spoke loud for everyone to hear. Dominance and power swirled with my words, masking the real threat underneath.
“If you want to wi
n this game, then it’s about time you trust me, Valentin Solonik.”
I didn’t wait for his answer before walking out. I didn’t need his reply. He knew exactly what he had to do.
And that was to surrender.
I was in control now.
Chapter 2
Konstantin
I walked down the dark lengthy hallway. It was silent, everyone in their beds, all doors closed.
As I neared my room, something or someone caught my eyes. Smiling, I moved forward fluidly. Perfect. Just what I needed.
A good fuck before a good night’s sleep.
When I finally spoke, my voice was low, only for her to hear. “Get in the bedroom. I want you on the bed, naked, your legs spread, and your wet pussy bare for me to see.”
The fact that we were living in Russia and dealing with Russians every single day, I had to master its language. But sometimes, English still spilled out. Thank fuck a lot of them understood English.
She nodded without a word and went inside the room. The door closed behind her with a soft click. My steps slowed until I came to a stop in front of the heavy, dark wooden door.
The seconds ticked by as I waited, letting the anticipation seep into us. After what felt like the longest time, I opened the door and walked inside.
Just like instructed, I found her on the bed, readily waiting for me.
She pushed herself on her elbows, peeking up at me with a tiny seductive smile. Her tongue slipped past her lips, licking the seams slowly.
“Did I say you could move?” I questioned in a thick Russian accent.
She giggled, and I internally rolled my eyes. I hated it when they giggled for no fucking reason. Like some desperate whores looking for attention.
On second thought…she was a whore. Well, she had an excuse.
“Lay down.” My voice came out as a bark. Her eyes widened, but the excitement there was undeniable.
“Spread your legs wider,” I muttered while unzipping my pants. They dropped to my feet with my underwear, and I stepped out of them. Her legs opened wider at my command, and I palmed my hard shaft.
“Ya hotela tebya ves’ den,” she whispered softly. My eyes narrowed on her hand as it went between her legs.
“You have been waiting for me?” I asked while she stroked herself, her two fingers working in and out.
“Da,” she replied, a little breathless. I hummed in response, watching her bring herself to an orgasm.
I rubbed my length faster and harder. It was hard, already dripping from the tip. Her eyes flitted below my stomach, and she licked her lips hungrily.
“You want it?” I asked, moving closer to the bed.
She nodded silently, her fingers pumping faster with her thumb now circling her little nub. Her back bowed off the bed, her orgasm closer than before.
Her eyes were hooded as she waited for me. “You can’t come.”
“Konstantin,” she breathed, her legs spreading wider, a very tempting and welcoming sight.
My legs started to cramp, and I knew I was close. Releasing my throbbing hardness, I joined her on the bed. She smiled, a happy look on her face.
Slapping her hand away, she laughed and removed her fingers from her wet heat. I crawled forward before flipping her on her front.
“You always…” she started to complain, but a hard slap on her round ass shut her up.
“You have no place to complain. We do this my way or not all,” I hissed in her ear before biting the sensitive skin just below.
I never looked into their faces while fucking them. To me, they were faceless. Nameless. Nothing but whores to satisfy my dick and my needs.
And they knew the rules. Understood them, yet still chose to submit.
My knees widened her legs apart, my hardness pushing between her folds. She was dripping, already so wet, and I had barely touched her. “Such a dirty girl.”
“Yes. Pozhaluysta,” she begged, pushing her ass back toward me.
“You like begging?” I tsked in her ear before pressing further into her wet heat. She moaned out loud, her head falling backward.
I nipped on her shoulder, but my teeth didn’t leave their marks. She wasn’t mine to claim.
My thoughts went back to the woman I wished I could claim as mine.
I wanted her lips swollen from my kisses. Her skin flushed, my fingers leaving their marks from my tight hold as I thrust into her pussy. Her moans belonging to me. Her kisses mine to take. Her body mine to love and cherish. Her heart entwined with mine.
“Konstantin.”
My name snapped me back to the present, the image of her disappearing from my foggy mind.
My hips drove forward, my cock filling the woman underneath me in one long, hard stroke.
She screamed, her hips bucking forward under my relentless thrusts. Her head was buried in the pillows as she took everything I was giving her, taking from her.
She submitted, and I took.
I continued thrusting into her willing body, using her for my pleasure. Closing my eyes, I let myself imagine the impossible.
My mind replaced the whore underneath me with someone else.
Behind my closed eyes, I envisioned her.
A black-haired beauty with green eyes that looked like the rainforest.
Green eyes so vibrant that they took my breath away the first time I ever gazed in them.
It was her moans I heard. Her laughter. Her smile. I was making love to her. Only her.
And she loved me in return.
The thought of her had me coming hard into the whore’s warm heat instead of the woman I wanted as my own. Her orgasm hit her at the same time, her screams snapping me out of my perfect dream.
My eyes opened as the woman collapsed underneath me. I rolled over, breaking the contact we had.
My breathing was harsher, the blood roaring in my ears. My pulse was thumbing harder as I tried catching my breath.
It was always like this. Fucking other women, but always thinking of her. Always wishing it was her.
Just the mere thought of her would make me come harder and faster. The wet pussies I had and were laid on a silver platter for me never did the work.
Dragging the black comforter over my body, I closed my eyes. “You can leave now,” I ordered, my voice still husky from the recent activity.
“Konstantin.” Only my name made it past her lips before I interrupted.
“We are not to the point where you can say my name when we aren’t fucking. It’s Mr. Solonik, Sir, or Boss to you.”
“Sorry,” she muttered before falling silent.
“I will see you tomorrow?” she asked softly after a few seconds.
I peeked at her with one eye as she got out of bed. Her eyes were on me, looking strangely innocent. She smiled while dressing, having a content look on her face.
My answer took that smile away. “No, you won’t.”
She froze, her arms hanging to the sides. “What do you mean?”
“It’s my last day here. I am moving to the main estate tomorrow,” I replied, relaxing into the soft mattress.
I didn’t owe her any explanation, but for weird, fucked-up reasons, I still gave her one. Maybe it was the sad look on her face. Maybe it was the way she was looking at me—as if I were her savior.
I almost laughed at that thought.
“I need a new pussy, anyway,” I muttered low. It was partly for her to hear, letting her know whatever we had was just fun.
And she did hear. Her gasp told me she did.
I scoffed, waiting for the outburst. When I didn’t get one, I opened my eyes.
She quickly dressed up, staying strangely silent. Once her body was covered, she tied her hair in a tight bun.
After, she stood still. Her throat worked up and down as she swallowed. “I thought I was your favorite.”
I released a long, frustrated breath. Here we go again.
“Look, In—” What the fuck is her name?
Inessa? In
na? Anna? Wait no, those were the other three.
“Irina. My name is Irina,” she replied quietly. The sadness in her voice was not mistaken.
“Right, Irina. Look, I don’t have any favorites. I’m a simple guy who wants a simple thing. And I thought you were aware of that when you got involved with me,” I started, now sitting against the headboard.
She opened her mouth to say something, but I stopped her with a hard look.
“To put it simply, I needed a good fuck. A warm pussy to dip myself in. What guy doesn’t need one? And you, Irina, your pussy was wet, warm, and tight enough to keep me entertained for a longer time. That’s it.”
Yeah, I heard her heart break. Too bad, so sad. She knew the rules. They were pretty fucking simple.
“I thought—”
“Well, you thought wrong,” I quickly interrupted. “Now, it’s time for you to move on. Forget about me and my lovely ten-inch anaconda, which I know you love so much. And I will forget about your tight pussy. Got it, baby?”
I raised an eyebrow, waiting for her reply. She swallowed again, blinking away unshed tears. Finally, she nodded. A small heartbreaking nod before turning on her heel and walking away.
The slump of her shoulders and quiet sniffles almost made me feel bad.
Okay, fine. I did feel bad, like a heartless asshole.
But the words were needed. I couldn’t have an ex-fling coming at me and thinking we would get married or some shit.
Not gonna happen. Never ever. Like nope. Zero possibilities.
Did I mention never?
Before she could walk out of my room, I stopped her, feeling bad for being a little too harsh.
“Irina, I am not saying this to hurt you. Or to be an asshole. I am just stating the truth. It’s not your fault. And it’s most definitely not you. Just find a good guy who actually deserves you,” I said quietly. “You are a good girl.”
I heard her taking a deep breath and then exhaled. “Thank you for the sentiment, Mr. Solonik. I appreciate it. And thank you for your time. I also appreciate that. I will now bid you goodbye.”
She didn’t turn around as she spoke. Her words held no anger. They sounded empty.
