Vlad
Everyone I have spent my life protecting looks at me with disgust as I enter the kitchen. Valentin isn’t sat with them, so his tantrum will be coming soon as he walks out of the room without looking at me. I turn and go to the office to get everything ready for Inessa to move. I still can’t feel my left hand, but the swelling has gone down.
I can make the world bleed, but nothing will make everything stop.
It’s better this way. I’m one step closer to my revenge and it is how it was always going to end. Dima steps into the office a moment after me and he looks down at my left hand hanging limply at my side.
“How bad did you fuck it up?” he asks, staring at the limb.
Ignoring his question, I focus on what’s important as I round my desk. “Get the house in New York cleaned, put three teams outside.” The idea morphs and I ask, “Will Anastasia move?”
They were childhood friends, so they might like living together and my wife will need someone to talk to now that she’s refusing to do so with me. Inessa being silent isn’t a possibility when she loves talking, connecting with people.
Dima’s brows go up and he lowers into the seat opposite me. He speaks slowly as though he’s afraid of them when he’s never fearful of anything.
“You’re letting her leave?”
My finger moves, each tap makes a dull thud against the blotter and the leather dips from the pressure as I nod.
“She’s done what she agreed to.”
And I’ll be dead soon.
The thought doesn’t comfort me as much as it used to. I’ve become attached to Inessa. But I can’t allow any further attachments to seep in. So, I focus on making sure everything lines up where I need it to and there’s no emotion in my voice as I say, “Have everything readied to be transferred to Valentin.”
The only person who knows a fraction of my plans is sitting opposite me. He doesn’t know the contingency plan of my death is my goal, and he shakes his head, being a fucking idiot.
“You won’t die, we’ll go together.”
The door is roughly pushed open and it’s time for Valentin’s tantrum as he storms into the room. Dima stands and tries to talk down the overgrown toddler in a low whisper before he leaves to do everything for Inessa to move.
“Go easy on him.”
Valentin’s whiny ass has the sense to wait for the door to close and he grips the back of the chair with white knuckles as he spits out, “What the fuck is your problem?!”
I sit back, hiding the numbness in my hand under the table, and force my voice to be normal.
“Currently? Your tantrum. Or were you asking in a broader sense?”
He turns into a child and pulls the chair back, making sure it scrapes against the floor before he throws himself in it, being petulant.
“No, I mean, what’s your problem with talking to people? You disappeared for fucking months, and we all had to lie to Inessa and tell her you were coming back. I thought you were dead for fuck’s sake.”
I’d prefer it over searching for answers and getting fucking nowhere.
There’s fear in my brother’s eyes as he stares at me and searches for information he won’t be given.
They’re both too soft. If I tell them about Vanya, they’ll feel pain rather than anger. They were too young to remember never seeing her again, but I remember how they kept asking for her and they’d sneak into my room whispering her name. I couldn’t explain to them why she wasn’t there anymore, and it slowly stopped. Now, they’ll have questions. Questions that will only ever have one answer pointing out that I failed. The only options I have are silence and deflections.
* * *
My family hate me,even Viktor won’t look at me as they watch Inessa leave. It’s easier this way, she’ll be happy and it’s what she wants, for now. After the baby is born, and the divorce is finalized, she won’t be able to stay away. My brothers seem to forget that, and I let them sit in their misery.
Valentin follows me into the office and I down the glass with the decanter still in my other hand now that I can feel it. Pouring another as I round the desk, he delays his tantrum.
“What happened with Len?”
For once in my life, I’m happy my father is the topic of conversation, so I don’t have to listen to what I should do with my own wife. It’s been the same shit all day, everyone giving me their bullshit advice as though they know her more than I do.