Page 62 of Viripotent

The smile on her face is wicked and she looks from my lips to my eyes as she speaks.

“What makes you think I’ll allow you a second time?”

She’s funny. I didn’t know she had such a sarcastic sense of humor under the cold-hearted bitch persona. She’s even funnier as she massages across my neck and tries to wrap her hand around my throat. I don’t stop her. For some reason I like seeing the way she fills with confidence. It’s no different now when she can’t even block my air. But the best part is when it falters, and she realizes that it’s misplaced. It happens easily as I push her back and copy her hold. Her head doesn’t slam off the mirror as the rest of her body is pressed against it and she lets go of my neck to grab my arm.

Stepping into her, I ignore the way her tits move with each shallow breath and speak against her lips.

“Do you see how easy it is for you to lose control?”

Her anger comes back, darkening her brown eyes further, and she drops her hold on my arm to stand taller with her chin tilted in the air. I squeeze the sides, watching how it forces her pupils to dilate as she plugs strength into her voice.

“Only because I’ve given you it.”

I’ve become accustomed to her delusional mentality and laugh again as I apply the smallest amount of pressure to her windpipe.

“You’re funny. Keep telling jokes now.”

It’s not enough for her face to turn red or cut off her air. It’s just enough, so she knows that the air traveling through her throat is under my control.

I loosen my hand and stroke down her neck, easing the discomfort as I pull a dress from the railing beside us. Inessa scrunches her nose up when I hold it out to her and gets offended again.

“You don’t tell me what to wear. It’s bullshit and caveman style to think that you can dictate that.”

I look at what’s in my hand, expecting it to be a nun’s habit at her outburst, but it’s a normal dress that she clearly fucking purchased.

There’s another closest to me, protected in a gown bag, it’s heavier and the hanger twists from the weight while she screeches, pushing at my shoulder.

“That’s my wedding dress, you idiot, you can’t see it.”

I have to hold her mouth closed. She softens, realizing her mistake, but there’s no apology for her insult. Whatever planning she has done with Dariya and Anastasia isn’t my concern. My only role is to show up, get crowned physically, and then mentally, as Pakhan.

She relaxes as I tilt her head so she can see me put it back on the railing. I like her like this, with my hand over her mouth so she can’t argue or rage. Stroking her cheek with my thumb, I delay letting her go and try to soften my order.

“Get dressed. Valya said the art thing you wanted to go to is open.”

They all talk to each other and sit together watching her god awful pimple show. Hopefully, she can abide the rules ofthe snobby artists and go around the gallery opening without running her mouth.

Her smile touches my palm as she nods her head and I take that as confirmation she’ll shut up and reluctantly let go. I step back and allow her to change as I go to the window to see everything that’s ours. It feels right being out of New York, to have a territory that’s only ours. The stables are off in the distance and Viktor is already obsessed with the horses as he runs through the garden towards them. There is no other fucker pretending to be in charge, and the property is big enough for everyone to grow together when it’s all done. The security box has guards around the clock. With our attention no longer split and every fucker bowing under me, Maximoff has no further doubts and I’m closer to my goal to get back to Vanya.

My finger moves against my thigh as I look at the boundary, knowing one day some fucker will attempt to breach it to get payback for my justified revenge. The small gap hidden near the stables allows me to breathe and warm fingers wrap around mine stopping my movements. Looking in the direction of it, Inessa stands beside me. She’s already dressed, and she smiles softly. Her voice is equally as soft and there’s care behind her eyes.

“I’m ready.”

I nod and extricate my finger from her grasp as I turn, waiting for her to follow me through the house.

She’s more subdued when we reach the elevator, and she keeps her eyes fixed ahead. The fake bitch persona comes out when we reach the front door, and she oozes power from every pore as Dima opens the door for her. She doesn’t take his hand to step up into the SUV and that one act has me fighting a smile. I know Dima wouldn’t touch her, he’s indebted to me, and we raised our siblings together so he’s family. He does the same,losing his grumpy disposition as he looks at me and smirks, keeping his voice low so the other guards don’t hear.

“Ona predana d’yavolu.”

I ignore the comment to stop myself from laughing at the absurdity of her being devoted to anything as I get in the car. It’s pride not loyalty that stopped her reaching out for help.

Inessa was built for the role of Pakhan’s wife, and she’ll make some other fucker’s life hell when she’s done with me. I can’t deny that she’s perfect for the role in public and she’s finally quiet as I drive through the gates. Flipping the visor down, she checks her hair and comfortably orders me around, breaking the peace.

“Do you have your card?”Her superpower is spending money like it’s water and I pause in answering.

She already has my card and unless it’s combusted from overuse, which wouldn’t be a surprise, there’s no reason for me have mine out at an exhibition. Sitting back in her seat, she sighs at the inconvenience of spending my money.

“You need to buy my apology gift for not telling me about moving. Would you rather your men see me put my hand in my pocket, lapachka?”

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