Page 82 of Viparious

Inessa

Gentle Vlad disappears as soon as the words leave me. He curls his hand around my nape and his entire body hardens. The restraint is shown in his muscles as he pulls my head away from his chest and his jaw tics from how hard he’s clenching it shut. He doesn’t say anything and looks towards the crib where Verena is asleep with her arms in the air as though she’s celebrating some achievement. Some of the anger leaves him until he looks back to me and it’s back in full force.

His fingers dig into my skin as he drags me out of the room by the scruff of my neck. It’s not painful and he pulses his hand, turning what should be a brutal hold into a massage. Once we’re away from the bedroom and at the other end of the hall, he tilts my head up and asks, “Where are you going?”

The controlled rage isn’t comforting, and I straighten my shoulders.

He looks ridiculous with a towel wrapped low on his hips, water dripping from his hair and nothing but anger tensing his muscles. Handsome asshole. Why can’t he be ugly and a total prick? Instead, Vlad has the softest, most genuinely amazing center. Describing it as beautiful would be an injustice, but his neurotic personality dims it all and corrupts the beautiful insides.

I ignore the tender tissue as I cross my arms over my chest and plug false confidence into my answer.

“I bought a house.”

It comes out weak, like I’m lying. I can’t spend another night spying on him, sneaking around like a thief, or I’ll lose my mind. He just lies on the floor between the bed and the crib, not moving or saying anything like a fucking rug. The first night, I thought he was drunk again but he’s come back every time and there’s never been an instance where he’s accompanied by the smell of alcohol.He must shower beforehand to scrub any scent off him because there’s nothing lingering in the air in the morning. The idiot thinks I don’t know when I hear everything he says to Verena, he tells her to be strong. Not strong like him, or because she has his name and it would weaken him, strong like me. All the while he adds the caveat that he can’t be in her life.

“You bought a house?” he repeats with a scoff and curls his fingers around my neck, so he’s gripping my throat. “You were going to leave and not even fucking tell me?!”

The hypocritical bastard has the audacity to pretend to be hurt after he’s done the same thing to me countless fucking times.

Bitterness coats my voice and I dig my nails into my biceps to stop from physically striking him.

“Would you prefer I fucked you first like you did?”I fire back.

That rage morphs into something worse, weighing down his features and he slams his rough, calloused hand over my mouth. The other cups the back of my head as though there are two people living inside of him, battling for control. He walks me backwards, further away from the bedroom, until my back hits the wall beside the elevator. His mouth opens, spitting out the same warning as always. “Watch your mouth.”

This is the most lifelike he’s been, and I push against his chest, wanting him to stay. To argue and lose control of his tongue.

His hold on my lips loosens and disgust coats my voice.

“You want me to dress up what you did, so it’s all fucking pretty? You left me, not just that night, but for months. While my daughter was growing, you were nowhere to be fucking found.” Morphing into hurt, I keep pushing against him but he’s a stupid, muscular fucking wall. “You couldn’t even let me know you were alive. But you managed to find time for everyone else.”

Pushing harder when he opens his mouth to shut me up, I speak over whatever bullshit excuse he has.

“I told you I would give you everything you gave me.”

My body deflates, knowing it’s useless arguing when he’s only reacting because of his control-freak tendencies. He grabs my wrist as I try to step around him, and I can’t pull it free in time. I don’t react with a fight as I calmly go to peel his fingers off. He counteracts it and twists my arms behind my back and pushes his body into mine. My anger, hurt, and disappointment slow me down from being able to react in time. Then his lips are on mine.

They’re soft and pleading while I fight back. He’s a fake fuck. Always fucking calculating and manipulating everyone around him. Whispering into my mouth, he gives me two words.

“Don’t go.”

I pull my head back and try to use it as a weapon and hit him in his stupid fucking mouth. Maybe if he feels pain, he can learn how to use it correctly. I’ve told him what I need to stay, there’s been opportunity after opportunity, but he refused.I needed his tongue to move and give me the truth, not be thrust into my mouth, and show that I’m fickle and still fucking melting beneath him.

He leans away from my head and straightens. My forehead collides with his chest, his muscles dulling the impact as he holds my wrists in one hand. He threads his fingers through my hair, keeping me in place. The asshole smirks down at my glare.

“You’re going to hurt yourself.”

He’s taken all of my weapons from me and I’m immature as fuck, stamping on his foot. He obviously doesn’t feel pain, he’s like a blackhole, a void, absorbing everything around him because he’s not even human. He’s human adjacent, playing pretend in a beautiful skinsuit that entices people closer only to devour them whole.

My voice raises but it doesn’t reach a shout.

“Why the fuck do you care?! All you have ever done is hurt me.”

He gets bigger, stepping into my body and arguing back, “And now I’m trying to keep you fucking safe. What do you think is going to happen when you leave? Last time, you told the guards to go home. Do you think you’re fucking invincible?!”

He’s blaming me. I deflate as the accusation sticks to my skin, and my voice comes out small.

“It wasn’t my fault.”

---