Page 22 of Viripotent

He blinks and turns rigid, stepping back as I sway, chasing his warmth. Taking another step back, he hardens his voice, becoming his usual dickhead self.

“Let’s go.”

He doesn’t have any manners and turns going towards the stairs. Following after him, because Grandfather will take any lateness as an insult, my taunt comes out.

“Are you going to leave me naked in the middle of nowhere again?”

He doesn’t pause in shooting his own question.

“Depends, can you shut your mouth and not be a brat?”

He’s standing in front of me as we reach the stairs, my hands itching to push all of my weight into his back as he takes the first step down. I muse out loud, enjoying getting under his skin.

“I wonder if you’d bounce falling down the stairs?”

He angles his shoulders, keeping me in his sight as he dares me.

“Try it. I’ll drag you down with me, meelaya.”

He already is dragging me down to the depths of hell, and I’d rather not tumble through the house with his parents here. It’ll be relayed back to my mother, and her unwarranted opinions will come out. Everyone thinks I’m untouchable, with my grandfather being the Pakhan and my mother’s half-brother the Pakhan’s second in Moscow. All it’s done is insulate me from the lesser monsters while the most insidious come out, unafraidof their wrath.I would deal with a thousand Vlads and Lens of the world before I ever willingly entered a single conversation with my own mother. She’s not just a bitch, she’s the bitch that made me, and she’s aware of every single weak spot she spent years creating with her venom.

My mouth snaps closed, and I increase the distance on the steps to prevent the urge to throw him down. He pretends to be a gentleman as we reach the bottom and holds his hand out for me on the last two. He’s always able to do this, switch between personas, and show that he is capable of being civilized. My fingers glide across his palm. It’s warm and doesn’t feel like the cold corpse it should, and I abruptly pull my hand back, not liking the way it’s making me feel. Being even more strange, he guides us out of the house with his hand on my back and his stoic face straight ahead.

His hand doesn’t leave the small of my back until we reach the car and he even opens my door for me. Alarm bells blare straight away. He’s either going to kill me or impose another one of his ridiculous rules. It can’t be an order to fuck someone else after he declared he’s changed his mind. Buckling myself in to make sure he can’t chuck me out again, I’d rather angry Vlad come back. This one is weird as fuck. He remains silent the entire drive towards my grandfather’s house. He doesn’t make a sound or twitch, like a robotic chauffeur staring at the road as he calculates how to get back to hell.

I break the silence, sounding as hesitant as I feel, bringing up the topic I know will make him erupt.

“You should enroll Viktor in school.”

I don’t let go of the seat belt clasp as he turns his head mechanically, and the deadly tone comes out.

“Don’t interfere with my family.”

He’s a fucking idiot stifling his own child’s brain because of his need for control. Not taking the warning, my anger comes out.

“He’s alone all the time, it will be good for his development, and he’s too intelligent to be sat in front of a screen all day. Don’t hold your own son back because you’re a neurotic, controlling asshole.”

My outburst doesn’t register as I am speaking, and I freeze realizing I’ve spoken his secret out loud. Viktor might be afraid of Vlad, but his bedroom is set up on his floor, there are toys kept in place for him, and he walks around the space like he lives there because he does. I haven’t seen the others interact with him, but the kid says Vlad’s name in every sentence.He’s besotted with him in the way every child is with their father before they’re forced to grow up and realize they’ve made the villain their hero.

Vlad raises one brow, and his lip follows on the same side as I cross my arms over my chest and glare back. The smirk doesn’t leave as he decides to be honest for once.

“He’s not my son, Viktor is my nephew.”

He says it easily, fighting humor as I deflate. Looking back to the road, he does exactly as I described, being a prick.

“Keep cursing, and I’ll wash your mouth out.”

Opening my mouth to argue, I slam it shut when he stares at my lips and continues.

“With soap or another substance.”

My eyes dart to his crotch, and I enjoy taunting him too much, so remove every curse out of my vocabulary to make sure he can’t make good on the threat.

“As long as it’s not yours, I’ll say thank you.”

He laughs. An actual laugh with his head pushing into the headrest, and the joyous sound fills the car. It slowly dies as heshakes his head and looks at me from the corner of his eyes. Every word of his insult drips in condescension.

“Do you have a special pillow for your knees, princess?”

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