VLAD (The V Games #1)

by Ker Dukey

  “So, Vika ordered Niko to kill Viktor, but he failed and was ordered to be killed because of it,” she mutters, pointing at the first clip. “But if he failed, how did Viktor die?”

  I take her hand and kiss her knuckles. “You take this to your grave, Shadow.”

  Her blue eyes become as wide as saucers. “He’s not dead.”

  My heart thumps in my chest. Father has planted him right smack dab in the US in a state called Arkansas. Right in the middle of nowhere. Punishment for his spoiled prince. To be a nobody. To have to blend in with normal people.

  “He’s very much alive,” I assure her as I open another folder. Inside is information about my brother’s location. “If anything ever happens to me, it is your duty as my wife to make sure he continues to be taken care of.”

  She nods emphatically. “Without a doubt, Vlad.”

  “Diana can never know this. I know you love her, but nobody knows he is okay. Father faked his death for a reason—to force my brother to live in shame and be alone for the rest of his life.” A growl rumbles through me, hate for my father and Vika brimming to the surface. “But mark my words, Irina, I will bring him back home to me one day. I’ll find a way. I’ll watch and plot and play this fucking game. And one day, when the time is right…” I trail off.

  “You’ll go get your brother,” she replies, her blue eyes flaring with ferocity.

  “Damn right I will.”

  She smiles as she plucks the laptop from my grip and sets it on the table. Then, she straddles my lap with her poufy dress smashed between us. Her brows furrow and an evil glint dances in her gaze. “And Vika?”

  “V is for vengeance,” I mutter. “V is for Vetrov.”

  She laughs and kisses me quickly. “What did poor Ruslan Vetrov ever do to you to deserve that?”

  “Not my problem.”

  “Someone ought to send her into The Games,” she grumbles. “She’s horrid. I hate her for what she’s done to your heart.”

  That makes two of us.

  “With Yegor as a father-in-law, I imagine every day is like The Games with her. Yegor is known for backhanding a viper for talking back. And that’s all Vika knows how to do. Assuredly, her life is hell there, especially now that she has been wed to Ruslan. That kid is a prick like his dad.”

  “Good.” Her nostrils flare.

  Neither of us speak about the fact that Diana will have the same fate. But unlike my sister, Diana is a much better player. Landing with the Vetrovs, assumedly Ven, unless Yegor decides otherwise, was her best possible outcome. The alternative would have been meeting the same fate as Anton.

  Diana was given a pardon because I love her sister.

  “These games,” Irina says, frowning. “We’re always playing them.”

  I tangle my fingers in her hair and draw her to my mouth. Running my tongue along her pouty bottom lip, I relish in the harsh intake of her breath. “But now we play for the same team.”

  “The best team,” she agrees, her hands sliding to my shoulders.

  I growl, “The only team.”

  We kiss hard and deep, sealing yet another vow.

  Irina and I are an unstoppable pair.

  Vile.

  Vicious.

  Villainous.

  Vasiliev.

  Five months later…

  We’ve been married for five months, yet it still feels like yesterday. The honeymoon period my father assured me would fizzle out within weeks of being a husband, is, in fact, still in full swing. My father has never loved a woman the way I do Irina. If he had, he would have never allowed her to escape his clutches.

  I turn toward her and rub a hand over her ass, which is fuller than it used to be. She likes her food, and I like the new curves it’s given her body. I could sail the waves of her body forever and never get sick. She’s my light—she illuminates my sky. My world. When we’re together, sparks fly, igniting us both, and no one could dull our shine.

  “I love how round your rump is these days, solntce moyo,” I tell her before biting into it like it’s a peach.

  She giggles and swats me off her. “My clothes have gotten a little snug.”

  “You like your food,” I tease.

  “I’m carrying your child.”

  Her words dance around in my mind, but I can’t quite grasp them. “My child?” I utter, searching her face for truth. “Irina.”

  She bites her lip, her eyes dancing with love. This must be what true happiness feels like.

  “Say it again,” I command.

  She rolls her eyes, and shouts, “I’m pregnant!”

  “You’re pregnant,” I burst out, joy beaming from me. I turn her body so she’s now on her back and rest my hands over her slightly thicker stomach—something I hadn’t noticed until now. The stomach with my seed inside growing and flourishing.

  “Thank you,” I murmur. It’s the most vulnerable I’ve ever allowed myself to be in front of anyone and I mean those two words. She brought back parts of me I thought I’d lost. She recovered me from the depths of darkness—the grief of losing my brother. She shone her light on me and warmed my frozen heart. I climb her body and kiss her lips. “I love you,” I reveal with a growl.

  And then I show her just how much.

  I check my watch and wonder if two hours is enough time for Irina to recover from our thorough lovemaking this morning. Based on how she conked out immediately after, completely spent, I figure she could use another hour. She’s growing my child after all, and has been for the past three months, she later divulged.

  Leaving my office, I see Stepan at the bottom of the stairs, his hands resting on Irina’s shoulders as she drops her eyes to the floor.

  What the ever-loving hell?

  He removes his hands when he sees me approach, and Irina swipes at a tear falling from her cheek. My protective instincts have me reaching out and grasping him by the neck, crashing his back into the wall.

  “Vlad!” Irina screeches, tugging on my arm.

  I don’t think so, sweet girl.

  “You have two seconds to tell me why your hands were on my wife,” I growl, spittle spraying his face.

  He doesn’t flinch or fight me. He knows better.

  “I was just asking him to protect Diana in The Games,” Irina cries, exasperated.

  I grit my teeth, then release Stepan. He rolls his head over his thick shoulders and straightens his shirt.

  Ah, yes, The V Games.

  The Games are fast approaching, and the humming of anticipation is rife. Diana is to enter The Games in just three short months. I’d thrown out my wishes, not fully expecting anyone to listen. However, a change has been made recently by Yegor and Leonid. I didn’t think Ven would allow her to enter, but something has happened we’re not privy to.

  Yet.

  I will find out.

  I know everything, and I will know about this too.

  I didn’t send a viper into their household just to punish her. Vika is useful for information. A cunning little snake.

  “You come to me in the future, solntce moyo. Now, go eat. You are eating for two now.” I kiss her on the top of the head.

  “I’m sorry, Vlad. She’s my sister.”

  “And I’m your husband. Your heart and who it loves are mine to protect. I will always protect you.”

  She sniffles and strokes a hand over my cheek. “I love you,” she whispers. I take comfort in her touch and mourn it when she pulls back. I watch her retreating form as she goes up the stairs and disappears from sight.

  Turning my attention back to Stepan, I follow his gaze as he traces Irina’s steps with his eyes.

  “She’s pregnant?” He sounds defeated.

  “Is that your business?” I snarl. Watching him, his eyes have lingered on Irina too long, too many times. I close in on him. “You’ll represent me in The Games, honoring the Vasiliev’s ability to train real warriors. Diana made her own fate.”

  A crease forms on his forehead. “What about what I
rina asked of me?”

  I once again grab his throat and squeeze. “Is Irina your master?”

  It takes an extra squeeze, but then his eyes water without his permission, the rage I’ve been coaxing into him brimming. “No, sir, you’re my master,” he chokes out.

  “That’s right. I am.” I release him and lean into his ear. “Who is your target in The Games?”

  “Artur Voskoboynikov,” he answers, and I smile.

  “Good.”

  Very good.

  I seek Irina out and find her in her studio. I know it’s crazy, but when I haven’t seen her for a while, I miss her. Her lips, her scent, her words, her pretty little pussy. If she’s not perched in the chair across from my desk each day tapping away on her laptop as she crunches numbers for not only Volkov Spirits, but for all of my accounts, she’s painting in her studio. The numbers make her feel useful, but the painting makes her smile. She’s so happy, which makes me really fucking happy.

  “Hello, my beautiful wife,” I greet with a grin. “I brought you some lunch.” I enter her space and place the sandwich I had Rada make down. As soon as the Volkov women entered my home many months ago, Rada backed off and stopped trying to get my attention. Now she just does her fucking job like she’s paid to do.

  “I have something to show you,” she beams, paint dots giving her colored freckles.

  “Oh?” I question, creeping across the floor and scooping her into my arms. Her lips are soft and warm, and my dick hardens when her wet tongue snakes out to tease mine.

  “You captivated me, Vlad, since I was a young girl. To me, you burn brighter than any sun, and there’s no place I’d rather be than here in your arms. Wearing your ring. Carrying your child. When I watch you, it’s a perfect view. You’re my muse,” she breathes, pulling away from me. She picks up a canvas, turning it and placing it on a stand.

  My eyes track over the image staring back at me. It’s me. The sun lighting my face. There are colors inside me I’ve never seen before all captured in the version of me she must see. The brush strokes are delicate and precise. There’s a smile on my lips as I peek up through my lashes. It’s the expression I must have when I’m looking at her before devouring her.

  It’s the me I always want to be.

  “It’s beautiful, solntce moyo.”

  “You’re beautiful, moye luna.”

  The V Games…

  So much has happened in a year.

  My sister, I have learned through the Vetrovs, is swollen with Vlad’s child. A niece or a nephew. Part spawn of the devil and part angel. But still, half my sweet sister. Sorrow washes over me for all I have lost—the biggest loss being her.

  How did I even end up here?

  Hate surges through me like a monsoon.

  Men.

  Men are the reason.

  Bad men.

  Entitled fucking men who think they can do whatever the hell they want.

  I lost everything because of men. Stripped of my power, my company, my dignity, my sister—my life.

  They think I will die in The Games. I know it, and partly, I think my father would prefer it. Wipe the slate clean like the Vasiliev family did with poor Viktor. Those motherfuckers have another thing coming.

  They will not end me.

  I pat the hilt of a knife my sister had sent to me that’s tucked into the waistband of my pants under my shirt. It came wrapped under the guise of a pretty dress, a recent picture of my very pregnant sister, along with some scarves. My sister, although living with the enemy, has not forgotten me. She sent me the very item used to kill Anton. It’s been cleaned and sharpened, but I will use it to gut the monsters in The Games.

  I will kill them all.

  Well, all but one…

  Living under the same roof as Vika has proven useful. She snaps and reveals truths in anger. Her tongue is like a pot of gold for someone collecting ammunition against the First Families.

  They will all know my wrath.

  Everyone who has ever crossed me will taste the steel of my blade.

  “You don’t need to do this,” Irina says, grabbing my hand. I’m dragged from my hate-filled thirsty thoughts and regard my sister. I haven’t seen her since Vlad so crudely ripped me from his home and dropped me into that of another.

  She’s beautiful.

  Mature and elegant.

  A queen in our world.

  I’m torn between wishing her all the happiness and hoping her horrible husband dies a thousand deaths, leaving her and their child alone. Guilt, because I do still love my sister, prevails. I want her to be happy. She, of all people, deserves it.

  “Let me talk to Vlad,” she whispers, squeezing my hand. “Or Father. Maybe Veniamin. I’ll talk to them all.”

  But it’s too late.

  I’m here. It’s already been decided.

  I will fight to the death in The Games.

  If she only knew Vlad put this in motion many months ago and Father agreed to it.

  Pain ripples in my chest.

  For him.

  Not Vlad.

  Veniamin.

  I didn’t mean for things to turn out this way. I never meant to break him so badly.

  But I did.

  And this is my punishment.

  I’m not referring to The Games, but to the crushing ache in my chest. The squeezing of my heart and deflation of my soul.

  I broke him.

  I broke me.

  I broke us.

  With a sad sigh, I stroke my fingers down Irina’s silky hair before pulling her to me and holding her tight. I love her so much, but my mind is a mess. My little shadow crept out from behind me and took everything that was supposed to be mine.

  I don’t hate her for it. I couldn’t hate her ever. These actions led me to where my soul truly belonged.

  To him.

  To Veniamin.

  If things hadn’t turned out the way they did, I would have never known real love and devotion that past few months. What I had with Anton was different. Confusing and wrong. It’s taken months and months of reflection to realize that. Anton came to me when I was just sixteen. Did things no man my father’s age should have done to a teen. I didn’t speak of it. Simply let him use my body because he swore he loved me and we were meant to be. I was such a stupid, stupid girl and fell for every manipulative word.

  Ven, when I came to live with them, opened my eyes and helped me see. Made me realize the monster that was Anton. For a moment in time, I thought I’d finally found happiness. And then it all went to shit.

  Glancing over my sister’s head as we hug, I search the room for Ven, but he isn’t here. He couldn’t even face me. Not even to say goodbye. I certainly don’t blame him.

  “Diana,” Vas greets.

  Irina pulls away as Vas tugs me into his arms. I allow it, but don’t hug him in return.

  “Father asked me to give you this.” He hands me the family blade, our crest emblazoned on the hilt. “Bring his name honor,” he tells me.

  I clutch the weapon by the blade, closing my palm around it and relishing the sting as it cuts into me. Irina gasps and steps back when my blood drips on her shoe.

  I smack the weapon against Vas’s chest and sneer. “That’s the only blood I’ll be bleeding for this family. I’ll conquer The Games for me, no one else. He has no honor.”

  “Diana,” Irina breathes, but I’m not the sister she once knew. I’ve been hardened by grief and heartbreak.

  “Irina, come,” Vlad calls, summoning my sister. His voice is colder and harder than I remember. I don’t recoil though. I’m colder and harder too.

  Our eyes clash briefly, but the rage I once saw in them has dissipated with time. My betrayal rendered me trash, yet him doing the same thing with my sister got him a wife and Volkov Spirits. It awarded him a child growing inside Irina’s stomach.

  I smirk in his direction, unafraid.

  I won’t spill tears or blood for lost opportunities. He isn’t worthy of my revenge. I h
ave my vengeance set on the man who stole life from me.

  Yegor Vetrov.

  I move toward the weapons trunk and take out my favorite pieces. The clock sounds to the right of me, and the rail goes up behind me, separating me from the rest of the people in the room.

  Irina calls out to me, “Ya lyublyu tebya.” I love you.

  “Good luck,” Vas says and nods.

  I smear the blood from my palm over my shirt and grin. I’m going to win The Games. Win my freedom and come for the empire that is rightfully mine.

  You will all reap what you sow.

  And then there will be a new master in this fucked up world. Every man will learn to bow at my feet. I will rule them all.

  The end for now…

  Read the next thrilling story in book two of The V Games

  Ven

  Volcanic.

  Victorious.

  Valiant.

  Vetrov.

  Listen on Spotify here.

  “Change (In the House of Flies)” by Deftones

  “War of Hearts” by Ruelle

  “Sucker for Pain” by Lil Wayne, Wiz Khalifa, Imagine Dragons

  “Dark Side” by Bishop Briggs

  “Killing in the Name” by Rage Against the Machine

  “Bullet With Butterfly Wings” by The Smashing Pumpkins

  “Cupid Carries a Gun” by Marilyn Manson

  “Cumbersome” by Seven Mary Three

  “The Morning After” by Meg Myers

  “Alive” by Pearl Jam

  “Heathens” by Twenty One Pilots

  “Monster” by Meg Myers

  “Run, Run, Run” by Tokio Hotel

  “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” by Lorde

  “Dark Nights” by Dorothy

  “Going to Hell” by The Pretty Reckless

  “Devil Side” by Foxes