Page 92 of Viripotent

“I don’t want you to see and my stomach hurts.”

Threading my fingers through her hair, I massage her scalp and try to soften my voice.

“The first time my dick touched you, it left coated in blood.”

It’s clearly the wrong thing to say despite being the truth and she slowly looks up glaring at me.

“Why would I think you could act like a normal person?”

She shakes her head as she pushes against my abs and walks back to the bed. She crawls under the covers and there’s a heat pad that she cuddles. My feet move, automatically going to her side. Sitting carefully so I don’t jostle her body, I press my palm over the heat pad and it’s fucking cold. She’s like an angry baby bear hugging it closer as I try to remove it. My hands have always burned hot and without the breeze in the room they’ll be better than the cold block she’s currently hugging. Fitting my hand under her shirt, she finally relaxes and lets it go.

Kicking my shoes off, I remove everything but my t-shirt until the last second, so I don’t have to remove my palm from her skin and get in behind her. She shuffles back into my chest and her hand softly attempts to cover mine as she increases the pressure and moves it where she needs. She loses any trace of sleep as she strokes my bicep with her other hand, and I hide my laugh in her hair when she moans and her legs fidget. She has a weakness for arms, it’s not even sexual.

The hesitant soft voice doesn’t fit my queen, she is always full of brattiness, and I’m alert at just her tone.

“The MC don’t like that we’re here and they tried to send Katya back with a message.”

Kissing her crown because she’s the epitome of the title she’s always screaming, I relax knowing Katya is equipped to handle shit.

“What message?” I ask.

Looking over her shoulder, Inessa lets out a sigh and smiles sadly.

“They want 60% or they’ll take it all. It’s probably more after Vitali killed two of their members.”

My life is allergic to peace and excitement bubbles inside me at the thought of war breaking out. The lazy fuckers won’t take shit from me, I wouldn’t give them a dollar never mind 60% of my hard work.

But she acts like I’m pissed at the prospect and rushes to defend in a way only family can.

“I know he wasn’t supposed to be there because he’s still doing physical therapy, but she couldn’t go on her own. They knew who she was straight away and they trie?—”

She cuts herself off and I use her weakness against her as I lift her head to my bicep and cage her in. My tone hardens when it’s not directed at her.

“They tried to what?”

She lowers her voice but doesn’t attempt to lie.

“They tried to strip her and check her for tattoos.”

Those motherfuckers. She’s a fucking kid and essentially my sister. She may not have the Vartanov name, but everyone fucking knows both Dima and Katya are within the fucking family. Inessa turns on her back and lets go of my arm to cup my jaw and show how powerful her mind is.

“We haven’t told Dima. We thought you’d want to have that conversation and tell him. You know, between husband and husband.”

I tickle her stomach and she laughs, kicking into my legs. I don’t do it long enough to hurt her and press the flat of my hand over her abdomen and pull her closer as I kiss her hairline.

“Go to sleep, you little brat.”

THIRTY-SIX

Inessa

The one place that always felt like home doesn’t anymore as Dariya checks me over. Holding my arms out exaggeratedly. She rolls her eyes and turns, going into the lounge. Misha turns into the little shit I grew up with, hooking his arm around my neck and whispering, “You might be Mrs. Devil now, but I still remember messy Nessy.”

I hate that nickname. I was a clumsy kid, always falling over or spilling things and the foghorn would announce it every fucking time. He’s a prick and always acts like we didn’t beat the shit out of each other as children in front of the Vartanovs.

Jabbing my elbow into his side, I straighten my spine, acting unaffected as we follow his mom.

Grandfather looks younger and his smile is a fraction bigger as he comes in and goes through the documents from our legal businesses. It’s hard to imagine that he’s the teenager we still have to bury stories on with the old man sat in front of me. As much as I want to sit here and soak up my family, I rush through my goodbyes, leaving three puzzled faces. It’s not some newlywed bullshit, I’m religious with taking the pill at the same time every day and old men love hearing their ownvoices, making me run late after a day of meetings for the media company and Steorra.

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