Page 77 of Viripotent

THE AMOUNT OFFEAR VLAD INVOKES IS TRIPLED IN MOSCOW. Every person we pass averts their eyes before I can even see what color they are and the worry coloring their features is solely for me. Whatever business he had in Saint Petersburg has him hardening and angrier. He was relaxed, even excited as much as he was able to be on the flight, but now he’s out for blood.

Keeping in step as we take our seats at the Pakhan’s table for the honorary meal, an older woman catches my attention. She has a slash going from her hairline down the length of her face and through the corner of her eye. It curves under her eye and the contour of her cheekbone makes it look like a backward three. But it’s not the injury making me notice her, it’s the pure terror on her face at seeing Vlad. Her skin has lost color, and she shakily rushes away, nearly falling over people in herescape.She keeps her chin tucked to her chest as she attempts to escape and sticks to the wall with a tremor shaking her hand.

Every time I think he’s not that bad something happens proving otherwise. I don’t even need to ask how she got disfigured, my darling husband is clearly the fucking cause. Ignoring how my stomach churns at the thought, I take the seat that’s pulled out for me.I already know he doesn’t separate male and female from his violence. The fights in the cage are proof of that because he has mixed opponents, but this is different when there are no spectators. He enjoys it. But I can’t understand why when he has never struck me or even attempted to even when he’s pissed at me.

Out of everyone that Vlad could kill, he lets his mother live and her annoying fucking face is opposite me on the next table. She’s a whore, not because of sexuality, but deviance. The same sick predatory look on her husband’s face is on hers as they survey the room, wanting to take power in any way they can. The only tool that they have is between their legs and they shouldn’t even be here. I lean into the man at my side and ask, “How did they get in?”

Vlad doesn’t look in their direction as he copies me, speaking low so no one on our table overhears.

“You’re their daughter-in-law, and their new pass to flaunt.”

I hide my speech with the crystal champagne flute as I fire back, “Well, how do I get it revoked?”

He smiles, it’s small and barely a lift of his lips but it’s there and fills me with warmth. He has long, thick lashes and I watch them remain unmoving as he straightens in his seat. I wonder if he’ll let me curl them, they’d be beautiful and probably touch his brows.

I hide my grimace behind another sip as his mother slinks out of her seat. The cocktail dress is better than the lingerie I last saw her in, but it dips low, showing her cleavage as she pushesher chest out. I don’t know why it bothers me, all I do know is this woman could save the world, and I’d still find a fault in it because there are toxic thoughts behind her eyes. It would be so fucking easy to jab the fork in front of me into her eyeball. The silver even winks at me, co-signing my thoughts with each step she takes closer. Playing the role of caring mother, she comes to stand in the middle of our chairs, full of fake niceties.

“I’m sure you won’t mind me introducing my new daughter to those of importance.”

I want to throw up at the thought of ever being mistaken for her child. My actual mother is bad enough, let alone whatever Anika is.

She directs the bullshit at her son, but she doesn’t look away from me and I push my chair back, making sure to hit her with it as I stand. She doesn’t make a sound as the high back connects with her hip and Vlad remains still as if she hadn’t spoken. She leads me away from the guests and my muscles tighten, readying for whatever attack she’ll give. Stopping at the edge of the hall once we’re out of sight from anyone else, she holds a section of my hair between two fingers and now I’m going to have to chop it off.

Gripping the strands above her fingers, I pull it free and wait for whatever she thinks is so fucking important. She keeps studying me, it’s unnerving, like she’s trying to draw comparisons with a memory as she lazily asks, “Did he go to Sankt Peterburg?”

The question is weird as fuck, and I won’t tell this bitch anything. Staring at me like I’m supposed to be intimidated, Anika rolls her hand as though it’s of no importance and her laugh is fake as fuck.

“Oh, we all know about his visits toher, I’m just surprised Vlad allowed you so close.”

He wouldn’t be cheating, like she’s insinuating. Not when I’d do worse back, Vlad would not call my bluff when the outcome would be embarrassing for him in front of the Pakhan. Anika smirks, looking over my shoulder and I follow her gaze to see what has her attention.

The scarred woman has her head down as Vlad comes out of the shadows and his cufflinks sparkle in the lights. It distracts me from his hand as he threads his fingers in the back of her hair. Her mouth opens and her chest convulses when she sees who has accosted her. But there’s no screaming as he begins dragging her away. Tears are streaming down her face.

The brutal hand is ripping at her strands and his knuckles are bleached white from the force he’s using. He leans into her, his lips by her ear, and his bitch of a mother speaks.

“She is the sister of Dmitri. Don’t think your familial ties will save you when he treats the Pakhan’s blood that way.”

She slowly turns towards me with smug satisfaction and makes no attempts to stop her son causing harm.

I know the hierarchy. Each region of the Bratva are under one head. Moscow works differently with it being a command center of sorts and every Brat reports to Dmitri. Vlad wouldn’t hurt his family. It would mean death for everyone. The rumors of what Dmitri did when his brother Denis was murdered still echo within the ranks and made it to the States of how he decimated an entire bloodline and ensured there was no one left to carry their name. It happened when I was a baby but even I’ve heard the stories.

THIRTY

Vlad

My lips quirk at the angry slash on Galya’s ugly fucking face. I deserve a medal for not laughing as she runs away, and Anika does something right for once in her miserable life, entertaining Inessa so I can have some fun. Excusing myself from the table, I already know where the little bitch is going to be hiding, and she’s muttering prayers like they’ll fucking save her. Stupid woman, doesn’t she know the devil hears them too?

I stick to the shadows and blend into the wall as she walks deeper into the hallway near the alcove that leads to the library. More importantly, away from prying eyes. I don’t move until she lifts her foot, ready to flee, and my hand is in her hair before she can take the step. I drag her back and she squeaks in fear as I whisper, “Don’t fight, it won’t hurt. I’m going to make it better.”

My smile comes out, dragging the worthless cunt with me and her tears are like rainbows in a world of gray. There’s no begging, she knows it’s fucking useless and the praying stops.

Her hair is wrapping around my fingers, making them tingle as they cut off the blood supply and I know she’s going to have a fucking bald spot. Just to make sure that she does, I twist myfist in her hair, and she chokes back her screams, allowing me to feel euphoria wash over me. I hum bayu bayushki in my head as I push through the door of the library. Her knees crack against the harsh wood as I let her go and I need more. I need her blood and her pain; I need to become her living nightmare and the one thing she fears.

The bitch sits up on her knees, putting her hands together like I’ll ever give her a moment of peace.

“Get the fuck up.”

The bark makes her flinch while I’m dancing inside. Turning pain into power, my leg rocks back when she refuses to stand, and I exhale as it connects with her chest. A laugh escapes me when she slides across the floor and the bitch ruins my moment, opening her mouth and mentioning something that should never be on her unworthy fucking tongue.

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