Page 27 of Viparious

Nodding along, waiting for her to give anything that will be useful, she turns and looks like a human with genuine emotion on her features. Only, it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Marlo knew my father and gave the order that I wasn’t to be trained, I was supposed to take over for Yulia when she expanded.”

It’s hard to hate the kid with that information, but I still hold on to it. She’s too arrogant and acts like death is imaginary. It makes her reckless and since Inessa has demanded Ana as her guard, she can’t make a single fucking mistake.

Anastasia softens and Dima hardens with each word that leaves pipsqueak.

“He has a cane, dark hair, and dark eyes. He always wears gloves, so I think he has a problem with people touching him, but he’d walk around with his dick out when he’d visit Yulia.”

There’s no emotion in her voice and I’d prefer not to think about why a grown ass fucking man was exposing himself in a house full of children. Giving them their orders not to ruin Inessa’s night, they leave to get ready. Pipsqueak goes with her new mother as Anastasia literally takes her under her wing and hooks her arm over her shoulder.

Dima stays behind, closing the door once we’re alone, and I sit back, waiting for what he wants to grumble about.

“She’s a fucking nutcase, but her life is horrific.”

I shrug, uncaring and ask, “Are you going to stop threatening to kill her now?”

His eyes widen, and he sits taller as he repeats her sins.

“She threw a fucking knife at my head.” I nearly laugh at the reminder, and he continues. “Then she shrugged and started talking to herself like a fucking psycho about changing the aim so it would hit me in the eye. Did you hear her laughing when she was wondering if it would hit my brain?!”

The door opens, and he snaps his head to the side, expecting it to be pipsqueak. It wouldn’t surprise me if she was sent from hell and aware of what happens behind closed doors. But Viktor pokes his head through, and he smirks, seeing his favorite little minion. The bow tie around his neck is loose, and he looks up, hardening his eyes and practicing his commanding voice.

“Do it for me.”

Vitali is the person he argues with, he treats his dad like his brother, but Dima is the one he always runs to when he needs something. It’s purposeful after he attempted to make me into that person. This way he won’t grieve when there’s no risk of him losing that relationship.

Dima lifts him to sit on the front of my desk and he folds his collars up as he speaks to his nephew.

“Why didn’t your dad do it for you?”

He may not be blood, but he was the one who stayed in the house with the kids when we first moved. Katya took a few years to stop being scared around me and hiding behind his leg. My brothers were little shits, so he’s earned his place in the family.

Viktor allows himself to be a kid as he answers, “He’s not wearing a tie. I don’t think he even knows how to do one. I had to wear one for this school thing and he done it up like the ends were shoelaces.”

Sending Valentin to the best private school in New York City was a waste of fucking money. He spent too much time fucking around and the uniform required the girls to wear their ties like bows which is probably the reason he tried to do the same for his son. Dima looks at me obviously thinking the same, but he doesn’t voice it in front of Viktor.

“All done, Vityenka.”

He steps back and he examines our nephews features before he nods and walks out of my office.

My nephew isn’t like other children, he doesn’t hesitate at home, but he slowly turns and sits cross-legged on my desk. His suit is going to get creased, so I slide him closer and let him sit on the edge to minimize them. I’m planning murder when he fidgets and looks down. The guard who gave him shit has been allowed to live because of the word of a boy, but if he’s opened his mouth again, I’ll go back on what Viktor asked for and kill the suka1.

He’s never been a shy child. Even as a baby he was all smiles and laughs. Probably because he pissed on his dad every chance he got. Tapping on my knee while I wait for him to find his tongue, he turns his head, showing his angry, red scar and his voice is small.

“Does it look bad?”

I’d cut my own face to make him feel better, but I stop myself, knowing the tirade of Inessa’s mouth will start if I walk out like that. I straighten his lapels, forcing him to look up and smooth his shirt out while giving him nothing but conviction.

“That scar and your eye don’t make you any different.” I tap his temple. “It’s what’s in here that counts. You’re a clever boy, more intelligent than your dad or Vitali, and you’ll be stronger than them too. What did they say?”

He smiles at me and relaxes instantly. He turns into his father, caring about other people.

“But it doesn’t make me look scary, right? I don’t want Mara to be afraid of me.”

Out of the entire population on the planet, Inessa had to be friends with the queen of the ‘Ndrangheta, and now my nephew is besotted with her. I choose my words carefully, knowing his intellect and how he manages to pick up on hidden meanings.

“Do you care if she is afraid of you?”

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