Page 29 of Viripotent

Correcting her has confusion pausing the whisper hissing, and she looks up at me dumbly. I smooth out the crease between her brows with my thumb and offer more.

“I drink tea, not coffee.”

My focus should be on her not killing Anika, but 99% of the population would celebrate that cunt’s death. She loses her anger, and her eyes are huge, she has delicate cheekbones that she infuses with the harshness of her personality, like this — silent and vulnerable — they soften and I trace the curves of her face.

Heavy, dragging footsteps come up the stairs, and I drop my hand from her face. Pavel’s pained groan has me positioning myself in front of my bride and she turns rigid when he steps under the lights. Without looking in our direction, he fucks off, leaving questions behind that I’ll get from the stubborn shit infront of me.She senses the interrogation and takes a step back like the small distance can’t be erased. My tone hardens as she forces me to follow her.

“When did you first meet him?”

Taking half a step forward, Inessa’s throat bobs, misconstruing my anger. She’s quick to mask her features and an exceptional liar as she deflects from the answer I asked for and turns into the ice princess.

“He’s a friend of my parents.”

Going through the years, I pause between each one analyzing her reaction as I reach adolescence.

“Ten? Eleven? Twelve? Thirteen?”

Her tell is stillness, there’s no blink, and she even holds her breath. She’s pressed against the balustrade with my hands on either side of her hips as I close the small gap between our bodies. I’ve never given a promise like this before, it’s too intimate.

“Tell me what he did, and I’ll make sure he experiences worse.”

I rarely give my word, but she’s going to be under my protection and my brain is moving her under the bracket of family, making me react in a way I shouldn’t.

My reaction of violence isn’t because she will be my wife, it’s one I would have for a stranger. My world is black and white when it comes to crime. There is honor among thieves, but not those who snatch a person’s soul while they’re still breathing. A pedophile has no honor, no integrity, and the forced tattoos aren’t enough in the new world. They’re untouchable, chuski, the lowest form of suka there is.

She smooths the lapels of my suit and strokes her hands up my chest as she leans into me. Her voice is softer, and I don’t mind listening to it for once.

“Are you my own personal devil giving out punishments wherever you see fit?”

Holding her chin between the knuckles of my forefinger and middle finger, I don’t have an answer and wait her out. She holds my stare, even now she looks me in the eye before she deflates, realizing I won’t buy her shit and I’m not expecting the hand on my chest to move up.

Curling her hand around my nape, she goes up on her toes fitting her lips next to my ear.

“Don’t act like you’re any different, Vlad. Thirteen or twenty-three, my body is still only worth whatever a man can gain from it.”

The sadness in her voice has my tongue turning into a lead weight in my mouth and there’s no malice on her lips as she kisses my cheek and slips under my arm. Spine straight and shoulders back, she goes back inside with her head held high.

The door to the marquee doesn’t close as a little body pushes out and Viktor checks for anyone in the vicinity before his wide smile comes out. He runs at me when he could just walk up the few steps and he slams to a stop at my feet. Excitement floods him and he loses the mean mug he’s been practicing for years as he rushes out.

“Pakhan said I was strong.”

Stroking his hair back, I massage the top of his scalp lightly with my fingertips, coaxing information out of him.

“What else did he say, malyshonuk?”

His smile dips and I turn alert, ready to slaughter whoever the fuck thought they could hurt my family.

“Len said I’m just a little boy and have to stand outside, so I don’t know.”

Keeping my fingers on his scalp, I guide him with me down the steps away from anyone else who could overhear. My family are too important for anyone to know their value, they’re theonly things worth bleeding for, worth dying for, and more importantly, worth living for.

Standing off near the shadows, I crouch down so we’re the same height and keep my voice low in case some fucker has escaped the boring-ass posturing inside.

“What do we say about Len?”

He tries to fight his giggle, and loses the battle, it makes his voice go squeaky.

“Ni ryba ni myasa.”

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