Page 122 of Viripotent

“And you are the biggest dick to exist, lapackha. I usually add head at the end, but we’ll go with your word,” I say sweetly.

He lunges forward as I try to twist away and wraps his arms around my middle to pick me up. My feet are dangling, hitting his shins and I make my body go limp, liking his playfulness. His threat loses its usual heat as he nips my neck with his teeth.

“Call me a dickhead and you’ll be going back in the stables.”

It doesn’t seem like a bad trade and I’m debating whether to win twice when he says my name in warning.

I’ve never seen him train. I normally sneak into the gym and listen to a podcast or audiobook while pretending to use the equipment, but his body shows he doesn’t do that. Setting me on my feet, he kisses my forehead, making me dazed and just blink until my brain restarts. He doesn’t go to the weights but pulls tape out, wrapping his hands. I watch him and lean on the weight rack, but my body goes cold when he tells me the reason.

“I’ve got a relay tomorrow.”

Everyone in the Bratva talks about the relays. Rounds of three against another three. But Vlad is infamous for never fighting with a team. The crazy idiot will do each grouping alone and it’s only ever people who have won the last five groupings. Doing the math, lead drops in my stomach. He’s going to fight fifteen blood-crazed fools with weapons.

There’s a wide smile on his face as he warms up and he’s the most relaxed I’ve ever seen him. No flicker of concern for his life or even tension in his body. He’s training the day before he fucking fights.

“No,” my voice comes out harsh, no room for argument, and I cross my arms over my chest, physically standing my ground, “I forbid you from fighting alone. Your brothers can be in your grouping.”

He pauses and looks at me like I’ve grown a second head.

I don’t like the thought of him getting hurt, never mind dying. It’s stupid but I care about the devil, and he already has too many scars on his body. He shakes the thoughts away,dismissing me, and moves to the punching bag. My voice raises and I act like a teacher, storming after him.

“I said I forbid you.”

The stupid mats cushion my angry steps as I act like I have any right over him. He drops his fists when I push myself between his body and the leather, and he finally looks at me.

“I said, no. You’re not fighting.”

There should be fear inside of me, but there’s not.

It doesn’t come when his jaw clenches and the tension comes back into his muscles. Or when he takes a step towards me. Vlad had me bound and under his control last night and he was pissed, but he didn’t hurt me. Even when using the reins on my ass he used a fraction of the force he’s capable of.Every time he uses less and less force with me I convince myself that he’s incapable of hurting me and that he’ll keep his promises.

He holds my neck and gently strokes from my ear to my collar bone with his thumb, proving my thoughts right. It doesn’t match his rough voice and refusal to fucking listen to me.

“You don’t tell me what to do.”

Our stubbornness faces off against each other and I glare up at the asshole.

“Then I’ll be there watching, if you die I’ll kill every single fucking person there.”

Pushing his hand off me I don’t let the emotion be examined, hoping it stays in the gym so I don’t have to deal with it.

I haveno idea what the dress code for an illegal fight is, but you can’t go wrong with black. It will hide any blood stains. Stasya doesn’t know the venue, and she’s stopped replying aftermy first question. I go on the hunt for Vlad, so he’s forced to take me with him, but he’s not in his private office.

He hasn’t replaced the lock since he broke it and I hesitate at the door. It’s always so secretive, no one other than him knows what happens in this room and I look towards the elevators as I slowly push it open. There’s nothing remarkable about the space, just a computer set up on his desk and the walls are all plain.

Leaving the office for investigating another day, I go through each floor, not coming across a soul. Even Viktor is missing which has me on alert. He’s always around the house somewhere, ordering Dima to do something or arguing with Tali, and it’s late so he should be asleep.My phone pings with Vlad’s message as I reach the kitchen and I’m going to kill him.

Vlad:

Enjoy having the house to yourself. Your face mask shit is in the kitchen and there are early release episodes of that disgusting pimple show you watch.

The bastard left me. My heels click angrily trying to punish the earth for the assholes behavior as I go to the front door. It doesn’t open. He’s locked me in. Just like my fucking parents. Why fucking talk to me when you can slip away? Who the fuck cares if I’m left searching for humanity because there isn’t any.

Rage consumes me. I want to burn the place to the fucking ground and then piss on the ashes. I asked him for one fucking thing, not love or care. But not to be left like I’m nothing. And the prick did exactly that. Going into the office on the ground floor, I search through his shit, not caring about putting things back. Even things I know are useless are thrown on the floor just so he’ll see and get pissed.

There are no details about where the fight is being held, but the burners are in his desk drawer. Stupid bastard. Loading his messages, I ignore the thread with Len and find what I’m looking for easily in his messages with Dima. I understand why they joke about them being married now. That’s the only person Vlad actually tells things too. His favorite car is going to have new additions to it, and I swipe the keys with the knife from his desk. I’ll carve my name on the hood, and then maybe I’ll be memorable.

Driving without any care for the paintwork, I speed up going down the gravel driveway, and the little pings of stone hitting off the paintwork make me feel better. Timo is a pathetic bastard and tries to stop me at the gate. He comes to my window like his shoulder isn’t scarred because of me and his bullshit authority has me revving.

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