Page 78 of Viripotent

“Vanya, please.”

Picking her up by her hair, she can’t meet my eyes and I grip her cheeks, pushing in until her teeth move under the force.

“You do not mention her fucking name, she does not exist to you. She is mine.”

Anger latches on to every syllable and the pained whimpering gets closer together as I push harder. The stone column behind her serves a purpose as I grip her face harder and push every ounce of force behind my arm, driving her head into it. I won’t kill her, yet. She has to remain alive and so fucking fearful that she’s afraid to die, knowing I’ll be waiting to reap my revenge in that moment too.

Her hands come up, pushing against my arm and showing the large scar going across her wrist. Three times she’s tried to kill herself, three times I’ve ensured she remains alive with her guards being under my command. She makes it worse for herself as I wrap one hand around her neck, watching the way her eyes bulge, and she whispers one word.

“Daughter.”

My blood is roaring in my ears, and I lose control of my hand around her jaw as it flexes. The crack of her jaw breaking isn’t dulled by the pages insulating the walls and I drop the decrepit cunt before her dirty fucking blood can touch me. Falling to a heap on her side, she brings her arms in front of her face as my leg moves back again. The force of my kick has her being pushed until her spine slams into the opposite wall and I can breathe.

Her cries echo off the floor as I close the distance with steady steps. They are fucking nothing in comparison to her crimes. Pressing my foot against her jaw, I straighten my cuffs and remind her of what should never be forgotten.

“You do not have a daughter.”

The muffled scream is like music, and I press harder, turning up the volume as I fix my shirt.

The scar on her face is supposed to fucking haunt her. Reminding the bitch of me and that I’m allowing her to live until the day I decide not to. A physical representation of what she tried to destroy and fucking failed. Pushing away all emotion, I look down and ask, “Do you have a daughter, Galya?”

Blood pools under her face as I lift my foot enough for her to speak and she shakes her head no.

“I can’t hear you.”

I increase the pressure, digging the toe of my shoe below her cheek bone and wait for the answer.

Her tears fall and I smile. It gets wider at the pained mumbling.

“No, no daughter.”

I lift my foot and grab her hair at her crown, picking her up off the floor. She continues crying and her jaw is already swelling, her teeth are cracked, and they don’t marry up with bone displaced. She’ll pass out soon, she always does, and I take out my knife to trace the edge of her scar. The tip of theblade digs into the thick scar tissue, the first time I did it wasn’t enough and I muse aloud, feeling lighter than I have in years as I reopen the healed wound.

“If you weren’t so beautiful I wouldn’t have to keep hurting you.”

A thud near the doors gets my attention and I turn, pressing down, inadvertently digging the blade in harder. There’s no one there and none of the weak fucks here could stop me if they tried. Cutting my fun short, I let her live. For now. We both know the day will come, but there’s no fun in an easy kill. Haunting her for the rest of her miserable fucking existence is much better.

Inessa keeps flinchingwhen we’re alone. The façade is out in front of other people, but since leaving Dmitri’s home she keeps a two- person space between us. It’s been 48 hours of this shit and there are no remarks or demands. I change the flight, so I can have one last visit with Vanya, as we drive to the airfield, and I try to get the loudmouth back out.

“Will you wait on the jet, or shall I have a driver collect you?”

Her brows come together, and she stares at me as her voice hardens.

“Where are you going?”

I don’t look up from my phone as I lie easily.

“I didn’t finish the business I had at the beginning of the trip.”

Tempering her anger, she sits primly and her jaw clenches as she tries to hide her rage.

“I’ll wait.”

The stilted response has me looking up, and she quickly looks away.It’s strange, and she wasn’t this cold or distant after speaking with Anika.

I shouldn’t ask, but my tongue moves automatically. “Are you on your period?”

Fuck me, the deadly look as she slowly turns is beautiful. It matches her tone as she attempts to give me an opportunity to change my question.

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