Bright.
It’s too bright in here.
There’s a marching band inside my head. I balk when my hand skims my bare stomach. Bolting upright, I observe the room and my near nakedness. I frown when I see I have one shoe still on. Rubbing my eyes, I think back to last night, but draw a blank. I remember dinner and then…nothing.
God, I hope I didn’t make a fool of myself in front of all those people.
Scooting to the end of the bed, I notice material littering the floor and I pick up a strand. My dress from last night.
Why would I cut it up?
There’s a light tap on the bedroom door and I quickly scan the room for my robe. It’s slung over the chair where I left it the evening before. The door is closed, and it makes my nerves ricochet inside my skin.
I hate the door being closed.
I have this reoccurring nightmare of a man coming into my room when I was ten, locking my door, and climbing into my bed. His hand, real as the day lighting this room. I can feel the heat, the hairs on his arm, as he snaked its way inside my underwear.
Diana, at sixteen, was also in my dream—she’d fallen asleep in my reading chair after binge reading the Twilight saga with me. Her presence startled him, and he retreated from my room, like a creeping shadow. The dream is still so vivid, I’m not sure whether it really happened or was just that—a dream. A very bad dream.
Slipping on my robe, I move to the door and open it. Diana is on the opposite side holding a steaming mug and a wicked grin.
“I thought you may need this,” she says as she hands me the cup and moves past me into the room.
“My head hurts,” I complain, joining her as she takes a seat on the bed.
Her gaze darts to the mess of fabric on the floor. “What happened?”
Shrugging, I crinkle my nose. “Maybe it got stuck so I tore it?” I surmise and sip down the hot liquid.
“You look like hell.” She smiles, reaching out to try to tame my bed hair.
“You look perfect.” I roll my eyes.
She always looks perfect, and today is no different.
“I had a visitor in my room last night.” She looks down at her lap, then crosses her legs. My heart begins pounding in my chest. Diana is going to tell me she and Vlad made love. Describing it in incredible detail, as if it were me experiencing it all and not her. I’m not sure I can handle knowing the details. It would truly mean there will never be anything between us. It’s such a juvenile and silly thing to think. I despise myself for even having the thoughts, but they’re not mine to control. They’re just inside my head. I’m a slave to the chemicals inside my blood telling me I need him.
“Vlad,” I croak out.
She stiffens a little, then relaxes back, laying down and staring up at the tall ceiling.
“Yes, of course, Vlad. Who else would visit my room?” She lets out a defeated breath, frustration in her tone. “He asked if I’m a virgin.”
A snort, unattractive and uncontrollable, breaks free from me. “He what? What times are we living in, Diana? What a ridiculous thing to ask.”
She sighs and looks over at me. “You know there’s nothing normal about our upbringing, Irina, my sweet little shadow. How determined you are to be a free spirit.” She smiles, genuine fondness and love reaching her eyes. I put my mug on the bedside table and curl up next to her, twiddling her soft strands of silky hair between my fingers.
“Well, you are a virgin, so that should have pleased his ego,” I tease.
Her body becomes tense next to me. I look up at her face and see tears building in her eyes.
“Diana?” I whisper.
She turns her body toward me and holds me so tight, my ribs feel like they may crack under the pressure.
She’s not a virgin.
“Don’t tell anyone,” she pleads into my ear.
I hold her back, squeezing just as tight. “I won’t. I promise.”
“Why is she limping like that?” I ask Stepan, pointing to the girl Vlad separated from the others when they first arrived. Darya, I think was her name. She’s walking like she crapped herself and there’s bruising on her cheek.
If these women are supposed to be appealing to perverts and predators, then the beatings will be a problem. No man wants to fulfill a fantasy with an already disfigured, used and abused whore. She’s supposed to be a seductress and she can’t even walk properly.
“That would be because my father took her out to play with,” Vika croons over my shoulder. I didn’t even hear her approach. She slithers her way around undetected.
“Vika, I didn’t realize you still lived here.” I smirk at her. It’s catty, but I do love seeing her hackles raised.
“Oh, my name is still Vasiliev, little shadow. I can come and go as I please.” She points to the woman limping back to her cell. They can call it a room, but that’s sugarcoating what it really is. “She can be put with the rest of the cattle, Stepan. My father won’t be back for seconds.”
“Cattle, Vika?” I shake my head in distaste. “Really?”
Her cackle echoes off the walls and pounds into me mockingly. “Oh God, Vlad must love having you around here. Sweet innocence is such a rare thing these days.” She reaches out to me with a slender finger and strokes down the side of my face.
“I heard your happy news,” I snip back. Two can play this game. I remove her finger and cross my arms to defend myself from looking so fragile. Snakes eat their prey when they see weakness.
I am anything but weak.
I am a Volkov.
“Ruslan Vetrov,” I sneer. “Wow. How old is he again? Like fifteen?”
Her hand snaps out and fists a handful of my hair, tugging my head back and closing the space between us so her body brushes against mine. “My brother likes to play games. He underestimates me. Viktor did too, and look what happened to him. Careful, little girl, you don’t want me for an enemy.”
Heels clacking across the stone floor draw Vika’s attention. My mind races with all the information she just dropped on me. Did she have something to do with Viktor’s death? No, she wouldn’t. Surely. He was her twin brother. Why?
“What’s going on?” Diana asks, coming to my side. Cool, calm, and collected. Together, the Volkov women are a powerful front.
Vika releases my hair, but Diana grabs her wrist before she can fully retract it. She moves between us, getting right in Vika’s face.
“I’ve killed men for less, Vika,” Diana snarls, her perfect red lips curled up in hatred. “Don’t ever put your hands on my sister again or you’ll lose them both. You’ll have to wear Ruslan’s ring on a chain around your neck like the dirty little dog you are.” Diana’s tone is ice cold. Violent and threatening. My sister means every single word.
Vika snatches her arm back and scoffs before pushing past us, leaving the same way she arrived.
“What the hell was that about?” Diana hisses, turning to me.
I let out a huff and smooth my now tangled hair. “She’s just a bitch. We already knew this.”
“Don’t provoke her, Irina,” she warns. “She is cunning.”
You have no idea.
She looks at our surroundings and blanches. “Anton said you were down here. Why?”
“Curiosity? Boredom? Pick one.” I don’t tell her that her fiancé is bargaining with me. If I want a studio to paint in, I have to earn it.
She frowns, her brows furrowing as she regards me, not buying my bullshit story for a minute. Thankfully, she lets it slide. “Well, I need to go back to Father’s. I’ve been locked out of all the business accounts and I can’t reach him on the phone.”
That’s strange.
“I’ll come with you,” I say, but she waves me off. “No, no, stay here. I’ll take Anton. I know you don’t want to see Father right now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, just don’t stay down here,” she murmurs as she casts another disapproving glance around.
“Okay.”
She gives me a peck on my cheek before leaving me with Stepan.
“Stepan, get that girl some medical help,” I murmur. “She’s useless to us like this.”
“The doctor is on his way to check all the women, ma’am.”
Ma’am?
“Please call me Irina, or Shadow.” I smile, and he stares at me like I’ve spoken Chinese.
“Why Shadow?” he asks, lines crinkling around his narrowed eyes. He’s unnerving. There’s a darkness there, sitting behind those deep eyes. I think he’s handsome, yes, but he doesn’t hold a candle to Vlad.
“It’s a nickname,” I offer with a shrug, feeling my cheeks heat. “Because I’m in the shadow of my sister, Diana.” Oh God, it sounds so pathetic speaking the words out loud.
“That’s stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” He snorts. He’s not mocking me—he means it. “You could never be in anyone’s shadow. Look at you,” he says with conviction. My stomach rolls.
What does that mean?
“Irina,” Diana calls from the stairway. “Come on.”
I bow my head and turn to follow her.
“I’ll be back for dinner, okay?”
It’s only lunchtime, which means Diana is planning to be gone all afternoon. I’m already bored.
“Go find out what’s going on,” I encourage, even though there’s a stone in my gut growing rapidly. Our father is pulling back on all that was given to us. We’re the reason Volkov Spirits is as booming as it is. That was our project. Our venture. Unfortunately, he still holds the key to everything. He wasn’t that stupid to turn over all rights to us.
If he takes all our power, what will we have left?
She pulls her jacket on and Anton hands her a scarf. “You’re sure you don’t mind Anton driving me?”
“I’ll be fine, Diana, go.” I practically shove her out the door and sigh when it closes behind her.
“Irina.” I startle at my name being barked from the balcony above me.
My eyes lift to see Vlad standing there holding the railing. “Come here,” he instructs. The brat in me wants to taunt him and ask him to say please, but as much as he excites my blood, he has an authority I can’t deny. I take the steps up slowly, counting them in my head.
One…two…three…
My heart flutters in my chest, and I take my time dragging my hand along the bannister as I climb.
Four…five…six…seven…eight…
Gradually. Deliberately. Demanding his attention, even if only for a short while.
Nine…ten…eleven…twelve…
I know it will frustrate him, but I just can’t seem to help myself.
Thirteen…fourteen…
Vlad.
Our eyes meet when I reach the top. His ablaze with emotion—a complete contradiction to the impassive expression he wears so well.
Pausing, caught in his gaze, I regard him with an innocent smile.
I’ve got your attention now.