I stare at my reflection in the mirror above the dresser in my new room. Everything about this place feels cold. I’m simply an outsider visiting.
More like a prisoner.
My lips are painted with the reddest lipstick I own because I swear, no matter how much I scrubbed my mouth, the woman’s blood remained on my lips. A shudder ripples through me. I’ve seen glimpses of Vlad’s power, but never have I seen that. What I saw earlier was violent and terrifying. I’ve seen people kill before—hell, Diana killed a man for hurting me—but it’s never been that brutal.
He. Killed. Her.
In cold blood.
Emotionless.
Tears threaten, but I blink them back quickly. I didn’t tell Diana about earlier in the basement. Her bedroom door was closed and the music was loud. I was glad Anton’s door was closed as well. Neither of them saw me rush past, sobbing my heart out, a disheveled, bloody mess. As soon as Vlad left, I locked up that basement and fled. Guilt sluiced through me at leaving those women, but I’m no idiot. In our world, false moves get you killed in an instant. It doesn’t matter who your sister or father are.
People die. “Accidents” happen.
I frown when I notice a purple bruise forming on my throat. I’d chosen a demure black dress where the neckline doesn’t go below my collarbone. He’d been clear in his warning. Don’t wear anything risqué. Five minutes ago, I heeded that warning because fear threatened to swallow me whole.
But now?
Bravely, I lift my chin and unzip the side of my evening gown. It falls to the floor in a heap, leaving me in nothing but my black strapless bra, lacy thong, and thigh highs. The back of my bra is held together by two thin silver chains, making it perfect for open-back dresses. It shouldn’t be hidden behind something so plain. I walk over to the closet and rummage around until I find a dress Diana bought for herself, but it didn’t quite fit her larger breasts. It was a little flashy for my tastes, so I never wore it.
I pull the slinky silvery-gray material from the hanger and slide it up my thighs. It’s long and fitted, hitting a mere hair above the floor, but has a slit up the side that cuts through the material all the way to my hip. I zip up the side and make my way over to the full-length mirror. The dress dips dangerously low, revealing my quivering breasts that only look this supple and ripe because of the killer bra. The material hangs slightly off my shoulders and sinks low on my back, showing off skin to just above the crack of my ass.
Wow.
I look…
Like a shadow come to life.
The light catches the tiny, sewn-on sequins and sparkles.
I’m a shadow standing in the sun.
My long blonde hair has been pulled up into a fancy bun, but I decide I want the silky locks down at the last minute. I tug at the pins and free my waves.
I’m beautiful.
The thought makes my heart catch.
Vlad can be a monster, Diana’s monster, but for the first time in my life, I feel beautiful and free—free to marry whomever I want.
Maybe while Vlad makes out with my sister—his fiancée—I’ll start setting my sights elsewhere. Stepan, a good-looking man I’d been introduced to earlier, wouldn’t be a bad one to kiss. I saw the way his eyes followed me around the room.
Diana calls for me from down the hall. I grab some black silky gloves and slide them up my arms. Then, I head out of my room toward my sister. With her back to me as she talks to a nicely dressed Anton, I admire my beautiful sister. She’s an angel—a vision—in her fitted white dress that’s apt for a princess. Sparkly and innocent. Any man in the vicinity will be thinking dirty thoughts. You can’t look at a woman like Diana in a dress like that and not be affected. Anton glowers at her and shakes his head before glancing up at me. When he sees me, his mouth pops open.
“Ready?” I ask as I approach.
“Miss Irina,” Anton utters. “Perhaps you’d like to grab a shawl?”
Diana turns and gapes at me. “Oh my God! You look gorgeous! Is that the dress I gave you?” She lets out a squeal of excitement as she rushes around me to inspect all angles.
“Is this okay?”
“No,” Anton barks at the same time Diana says, “Yes.”
She turns and glares at him. “She’s beautiful, and she’s wearing the dress.”
His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t argue. It makes my chest squeeze to see such a fatherly look of worry on Anton’s face. He’s nearly as old as Father, but he’s much more fatherly than our dad could ever hope to be. I mean, he’s spent our entire lives looking after us for Father. Anton is a good man and I trust him implicitly. I know Diana does too.
“Will any of the other families be here tonight?” I ask, my voice shaking slightly.
Diana nods. “The Vetrovs will be here. Veniamin, Ruslan, and Vlad’s sister, Vika.”
We both share a look that has us giggling. Neither of us like Vika at all. Especially Diana. She won’t tell me what went on with them when they were younger, but whatever happened, Vika bears anger for my sister.
Diana links her arm in mine and Anton follows behind as we make our way through the corridors to the main hall. As we reach the stairwell, I feel eyes on us. Many eyes. The room below is bustling with guests and waitstaff. As we descend the stairs, they seem to be collectively holding their breath. I search the crowd for Stepan, hoping to catch his eye and find him right off the bat. Diana will go to Vlad, and I’ll be left alone. I’m already planning my escape route.
My flesh heats, and I know Vlad’s eyes have found us. I try not to look at him, but my eyes betray me. He stands at the bottom of the stairs wearing a mask of indifference. But I see the fire blazing in his amber stare. The same fire that blazed when he disemboweled that woman for talking back. Except, he puts on a show in front of all these people. Even my sister. Our eyes are locked and I nearly stumble. Diana’s laughter is like tinkling bells as she clutches onto me to keep me from falling.
Vlad’s shoulders are tense and the vein in his neck throbs wildly. Earlier, in his office, I’d admired his physique without his suit jacket on from the shadows. The vest stretched over his impressive chest and the buttons were slightly pulling as though they might go flying off at any moment. And when he turned to enter in the code on his safe, I’d watched in awe at the way his slacks hugged his firm ass that’s usually hidden by his jacket. An ass that made my mouth water—that still makes it water.
He ruined it all, though, when he showed me his true colors. I should have known the promise of a studio was nothing but a move in this big game he seems to always play. He gives me what I want, and I give him what he wants in return.
To train them. Such things are beneath my capabilities. Numbers are where I shine. I could be an asset to his empire if he weren’t so blind and hardheaded. Perhaps I’ll teach his whores math instead. That’ll show him.
A shudder quivers through me and Diana stiffens.
His eyes narrow and become more severe as though he can see the thoughts tumbling from my mind. Knowing Vlad, he probably can. He’s that good.
“Are you cold? I can send Anton back after your shawl,” she says with concern.
“I’m fine,” I promise as we reach the bottom.
“Diana. Irina.” Vlad’s clipped greeting has me diverting my gaze elsewhere. I lock eyes with a handsome man in the corner. God, anything to avoid Vlad’s stare right now.
Vlad takes Diana from me and she curls her hand around what I know is his massive bicep. He’s changed outfits and not a hair is out of place. You’d never know he slaughtered a woman in cold blood only hours ago. Vlad catches me eyeballing him and smirks. It’s brief and only for my eyes. I jerk my stare from him and smile at the cute guy who won’t stop looking at me. The guy gives me a head nod and starts in my direction.
“Looks like someone’s caught her eye,” Diana says to Vlad under her breath, pride in her voice.
Vlad jerks his head toward the guy. “Artur Voskoboynikov,” he growls.
“Indeed,” Diana agrees, as if an unknown plan of theirs is finally set in motion.
I halt, and Artur strides the rest of the way to me. Tall, lean, muscular. He’s handsome, no doubt. Best of all, he seems kind. I could certainly lose myself with a man I’m not afraid will gut me if I step out of line.
“My father didn’t lie about the Volkov beauty,” Artur says with a wolfish grin.
Vlad sneers. “Perhaps that’s the only thing your father never lied about.”
Artur takes Vlad’s jab as a joke and laughs. Deep, rich, masculine. I find myself warming to him almost immediately. I’ve heard of Artur—ten years my senior—just never met him in the flesh. His brother, Ivan, who is thirty, though, comes to meetings often with my father.
“Irina Volkov,” I say, ignoring the furious heat radiating from Vlad. He wouldn’t whip out his scary hook knife and slaughter a Voskoboynikov in front of everyone. Certainly not. “Nice to meet you.”
Artur’s smile widens and heat prickles through me at having his undivided attention. Is this how Diana always feels? As though everyone’s attention is solely on her? He takes my hand and kisses my knuckle over my glove. The heat of his breath through the material sends trembles of excitement stuttering through me.
“Let’s eat,” Vlad grits out.
Dinner goes on for hours. It’s boring and I find myself sucking down wine to pass the time. I’d assumed moving into the lion’s den would be more exciting at dinner. Instead, I’ve listened to family dramas similar to my own and other nonsense for too long. Vlad has finally taken to ignoring me altogether as he flirts with my sister.
They’re an item now.
It’s what’s expected of them.
Diana plays her part well. Blushes at his compliments. Leans in for his gentle kisses to her cheek. Offers her ear when he has a secret only she’s privy to. Despite his monstrous slip earlier today, he’s back to his usual self. Poised and dapper. Commanding and powerful. Women gaze at him with hearts in their eyes. Men wish they were him.
I’m all but falling out of my chair drunk when I see Artur watching me with a predatory stare. He’s hungry for me. Maybe I want to get eaten. A giggle slips past my lips, and Artur smiles back, then motions for me to follow him. I toss my napkin on my plate and stand. The room spins, and I grip the back of my chair to keep from falling. Anton, who sits across from Diana, narrows his eyes at me, but makes no moves to follow. She always was his favorite. Some stand-in dad he is. I roll my eyes at him and try not to stumble out of the busy room where nearly fifty people are dining. I escape into the hallway and see Artur leaning against a pillar.
He lets out a chuckle when I throw myself into his arms. Strong, capable arms keep me from falling to the floor.
“You are the most exquisite woman I have ever seen,” he praises, his hot breath tickling the top of my head.
I look up at him and inhale his masculine scent. It’s expensive and manly. Not overpoweringly addictive like Vlad’s, but it’ll certainly do. Maybe Artur can distract me from my confusing thoughts.
Vlad is a monster. So why do I still want him?
I try to kiss Artur’s mouth, but bump my teeth against his jaw when I miss. He laughs, the sound husky and adorable.
“Let’s find a place to hang out quietly. Show me to your bedroom,” he instructs.
I point toward the stairs. When he realizes I can barely walk, he scoops me up. I cling to him as he carries me swiftly up the steps and down the hallway as though he doesn’t want anyone to see. Anyone like Vlad. Terrifying images flit through my drunken haze as I envision what sort of things someone like Vlad would do if he knew what was about to happen under his roof. Would he be angry with me? Would this be the nail in the coffin for him to extinguish any apparent attraction toward me and focus solely on my sister? I decide that’s what needs to happen. I’ll make out with Artur, maybe see where the night takes us, and move on from Vlad.
“There,” I murmur, my voice a thick slur.
He carries me inside my bedroom and starts to close the door, but I stop him. A quiver of fear darts through me.
“Leave it open.”
His gaze darkens. “Kinky. I like it.”
I’m tossed onto the bed and the room spins. My dress has slipped down, and my bra is showing. He peels off his jacket, then tugs at his tie. Things are moving too fast, and I don’t feel so well. I close my eyes to keep from vomiting. Someone clears their throat, violent words are whispered, and then the door closes.
“Hey,” I groan, squinting up. “Keep it open.”
“Were you hoping I’d see Artur Voskoboynikov, of all people, fucking my fiancée’s little sister?” Vlad growls, malice in his tone. “I don’t think so.”
I stare in horror as he pulls out the same curved knife from earlier. Shiny and pristine. No longer dripping in that woman’s blood. He takes a step toward the bed and I sit up on my elbows, quickly assessing my escape routes. His eyes follow mine to the bathroom and he shakes his head.
“There is no escape, little girl. You’ve messed up and you need to be punished,” he hisses.
“I can see whoever I want,” I bite back, anger surging through me.
He strikes out with his hand and grabs my ankle, yanking me toward him on the bed. I scream and kick, but the moment the hooked end of the knife presses against my thigh where the slit of my dress ends, I freeze.
“Little Irina,” he says, his voice dripping with fury, “you see no one. Absolutely no one. You will die a little lonely virgin who lives in my house.”
The fabric rips as he begins slicing upwards. The blade nicks my hip, and then he turns it toward my stomach. I’ll die on this bed. He’ll cut me open like that woman and I’ll bleed out right here. My poor sister.
“Do you understand the rules?” he snarls, making sure the blade scrapes in a threatening way along my flesh beneath the dress as he cuts through it.
“Y-Yes,” I breathe, a sob catching in my throat.
He continues shredding the beautiful dress until he makes it to the neckline. He slices through it, and the silky parts fall to my sides, baring my undergarments to him. His gaze is lazy as he rakes it along my breasts, stomach, and between my thighs.
“You’re more than welcome to pleasure yourself as you think of me,” he murmurs, teasing my nipple through the fabric of my lacy bra with the tip of the knife.
“I hate you,” I choke out.
He arches a brow and shrugs. “But you belong to me.”
“I belong to no one. Diana said you agreed on that—”
Before I can utter another word, he pounces on me, his heavy body smashing mine against the bed. His strong hand is on my throat again and his nose is inches from mine. God, his smell is intoxicating. I hate myself for being drawn to him even when he’s being a lunatic.
“She belongs to me, therefore you belong to me. Simple.”
I struggle against him, but he manages to wedge himself between my thighs. His hard body pressed against mine brings up so many dirty fantasies over the years, I’m having trouble focusing on why I’m angry because all I notice is the way my core throbs with need.
With a gentle thrust, he grinds his erection against my center. I’m dizzy and drunk and seeing stars of bliss. No longer afraid of him and driven by blind lust, I try to lift my hips, seeking more friction. Slowly, as though he’s punishing me, he rocks against me, rubbing in just the right spot. Pleasure is building, and I’m desperate for it.
“Vlad,” I whimper.
His fierce amber eyes pin me in place. For a moment, his mask has slipped and the wildness that dances inside comes raging to the front.
Bucking. Bucking. Bucking.
He bucks me right off the cliff of my mind.
I cry out in ecstasy as a quick orgasm steals over me. My entire body trembles from the force of it. Vlad’s glare softens as he glances at my lips. Then, cold and uncaring, he’s back to being himself as he abruptly pulls away.
“Wear a dress like that again and I’ll cut it off in front of our guests. Don’t test me, little Irina.” He stalks toward the doorway, but stops with his back to me. “Touch Artur Voskoboynikov again and I’ll gut him at your feet.” He turns to give me a sinister smile. “You.” He points with his vicious knife. “You belong to me. Even if I never use you. You are mine.”
Without another word, he slips away.
I toss my ruined dress to the floor and curl into a fetal position, cursing the world I’ve been delivered to.