VEN

by K. Webster

  I sip from my glass, my eyes on Diana. She eyes my hand for a second, but she doesn’t truly see. One day, she will.

  “For the wedding, I want extra security. Things are volatile lately after Miss Volkov over here scorned her fiancé. We’ll need to make peace with the Vasiliev men. Vlad won’t come, nor will the Volkov girl he’s clearly fucking, but Yuri will be here. I want to make sure he’s looked after. He’s the father of the bride, after all. Get him drunk and give him the best mule. The youngest and tightest mule. Also, give him keys to the black room in the basement. I want him spoiled and fucked happy.” Father dabs at his messy beard with his linen napkin, missing the crumbs entirely. “Ruslan, I want you and Ven to leave tomorrow for Moscow.” He looks over at me, his eyes narrowing. “Let Ruslan test out whichever ones he wants and take him to the whorehouse there you love so much. Break my boy in.”

  Another clatter as Vika tosses her fork onto her plate.

  “No,” Vika hisses. “I will not let my future husband fuck whores and—”

  “At least then I’d get to fuck something,” Rus snaps at her, his words violent like Father’s.

  Father snarls. “You won’t let my son touch you?”

  Vika’s nostrils flare. “We’re not husband and wife yet, Yegor, and I won’t have him touching any whores either. I don’t want some tramp’s offspring showing up and tainting my future children’s lives. Quite the embarrassment, don’t you think?” She smirks over at Diana, her words intended to strike a nerve about Vas.

  Stupid goddamn girl.

  Fucking Vika has a death wish.

  I wish I could pull Diana from this room and steal her away. Whatever is yet to come won’t be pretty. I squeeze her hand and hold on tight. Shit is about to hit the fan, and we’re going to get splattered with it.

  Getting to her feet, Diana excuses herself. “I’m quite full and tired. Thank you for dinner.”

  My father leers over at her, and we all watch her ass sashay as she leaves the room.

  That dress is magnificent on her, accentuating all the curves of her womanly figure.

  “See, Vika, that’s how a lady behaves,” Father bites out. “She knows her place.”

  “Diana is a fucking whore who opens her legs for old, decrepit men. It makes me sick,” Vika spits out, giving him a dirty look before she gets to her feet.

  My fists clench and I fight the urge to jump up and bury my dinner knife in her neck. I don’t get the chance, however. A vein bulges in Father’s throat. He reaches out and grabs onto her wrist as she tries to pass him, halting her from fleeing. His grip is tight, causing her to wince in pain. Ruslan’s eyes flare, but it’s not annoyance at our father disciplining his soon to be wife; it’s excitement at the possibility.

  Rising to his feet, Father yanks her back toward the table, spinning as he does, so she’s facing us. She stumbles in her heels and lets out a squeal as he pushes her forward, forcing her down on to the table with a hand to her spine. With a thud, her chest collides with his dinner plate. His movements are quick, skilled over a lifetime of treating women this way. He flips up her dress, baring her ass to him. She tries to struggle, but is no match for him.

  “Get off me! I’m a Vasiliev!” she screams. “You can’t treat me this way!”

  Our father booms a rapturous laugh. Leaning over her, he sneers, “You’re nothing unless we deem you to be.”

  Ripping her panties away, he forces them into her mouth to shut her up, and her hands dig into the wood grain of the table as he unzips himself. Her eyes expand wide, and a single tear leaks free when he palms his cock and rams into her. She’s staring directly at me, and tries to reach out, but I’m just far enough away for it to fall slack with no purchase.

  “Old does not always mean decrepit,” our father groans with short, hard thrusts, his gut slapping against her ass. “You will learn your place, Vika, and you won’t deny Ruslan your cunt again. If he can’t be a man and take you, I sure as hell will.”

  He rumbles and stabs forward, moving her body so it almost looks like she’s having a silent seizure. Sweat beads on his forehead, and Vika has become limp, unmoving, her eyes devoid of all emotion. She does not grant him sound—no cries, no gasps. She’s calculating her revenge. Minds like hers always do. She fears no man, no fight, no injury or scars. A wise woman would learn from her mistakes, but not Vika. She sees them as our blunders. Feeds on them and strengthens herself until she’s ready to strike back.

  He pulls out of her and slumps into his seat, his cock still erect and sticking up from his crotch.

  “Ruslan,” he barks, and my red-faced brother stands. Our father points between Vika’s spread legs. “That’s her cunt. The hole is where your little cock goes.”

  “I know how to fuck,” Ruslan defends.

  I’m bored of this show now.

  “Vika,” I bark, making her stir to life. “Go shower and get to bed.”

  She lifts herself up tentatively, food clinging to her clothing from Father’s plate, and yanks the panties from her mouth. Swallowing loudly and pushing her dress back down, she blinks a few times before moving. She passes Ruslan without eye contact. As she gets closer to the exit, her legs pick up speed, and she scurries from the room.

  “See how she listens to your brother?” Father asks Rus with a smirk.

  One of the maids enters with dessert, and fear crosses her features when she sees the mess on the table and our father’s cock still protruding from his lap. “I have dessert for you.” His grin is wolfish as he drags the girl to her knees and grasps the back of her head before shoving himself into her mouth. She gags and begins to choke, but he doesn’t let her up.

  Ruslan grinds his jaw, then storms out of the room.

  “Great family dinner,” I say dryly as I rise, taking a plate of dessert with me as I pass it.

  A Vetrov meal is never complete without a side of drama.

  Changing into sweats and a sweater is more Irina’s dress style, but being around Yegor at dinner was nauseating and I wanted to cover as much flesh as possible. His eyes kept slithering over me like a poisonous snake wanting to slink beneath the dress Ven gifted me.

  And Vika’s cruel words weren’t anything less than what I’ve learned to expect from her.

  My half-brother Vas may be the outcome to an indiscretion, but he’s been there to keep me in the loop with regards to all things Irina, and even Father’s business deals. He’s making an effort to be a good brother. It’s not his fault our Father took my power and placed it in his hands. I learned a long time ago men will always take, take, take. Not anymore. I’m done letting men rule my destiny. Irina had it right from the start.

  I have a taste for power. I just need to be brave and take a bite. And bite I will.

  The library here is twice the size of the one back at the Vasilievs’ mansion. It’s my favorite part of the house. No one else goes there, and it’s where I plan to spend the rest of the night reading once I pluck up the courage to make a call. First, though, I pull the cellphone Ven got me from my pocket and hover over Irina’s name. It was the first number I input, but I’ve yet to press call. My heart thunders as I push the pad of my thumb down.

  The dial tone sounds, and then an array of beeps before: “The soon-to-be Mrs. Irina Vasiliev can’t come to the phone right…”

  Vlad’s voice sounds out, followed by Irina’s giggling and a scuffle for the phone. I drop the cell to the floor like it’s a flame in my hand, burning my palm. Soon-to-be Mrs.?

  I’ve been gone a week.

  My skin heats, and a wave of nausea threatens before receding, leaving me lightheaded. I swipe up the phone and hurry out of my room. As I turn into the corridor, my body collides with Vika.

  She tumbles to the floor, clumsy and weak. I manage to prevent myself from toppling down with her with a hand on the wall.

  “Look where you’re going,” she barks up at me. Her dress has ridden up, and her ass is on display. No panties, typical. She was more than lik
ely hoping Ven would slip his foot there under the table. She quickly pushes her dress down that’s caked in food smears, and gets to her feet, smacking away my proffered hand before waltzing off.

  One day, someone will have to teach that snot-nosed bitch a lesson, and I hope it’s me.

  Ruslan is hot on her heels, and by the look on his face, he’s not happy. Maybe he will surprise us all and be the one to teach her a lesson. I doubt it, though. I watch them both disappear from sight, and when I turn around, I find a very well-dressed Ven walking toward me. At dinner, I hadn’t really paid attention to how handsome and tailored to perfection he looked because his retch of a father was there and it took all my strength not to stab my fork in his eye. I don’t know why the older generation believes women are good for one thing and nothing else, but even though I can’t stand Vika, the way he spoke to her irritated me. More because of the words he had with me not an hour before. I went straight back into the shower when he left to scrub his grubby fingers from my skin.

  He’s vile.

  I will not be his dirty little toy.

  I’d rather be homeless than ever go to his bed.

  Ven’s holding a plate of sweet treats. “Dessert?” He grins. There’s something almost filthy in the way he says the word and tightens his jaw. I find myself returning his enthusiasm for sugar. His beard is thick and hides half his beautiful face. His eyes are a forest green after a rainfall, and the way he looks at me sometimes, so expressive and warm, yet sharp and assessing once they pin me down, makes it hard to concentrate on anything else. His skin holds a ruddy tinge in this dim lighting, and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear he lived somewhere where the sun kissed his skin. His rich, chestnut mop of hair is pushed back from his face. It’s long and thick, and I catch myself wondering what it would feel like to run my hands through it. His masculine physique is broad and tall, and the colored ink that peeks out from his collar promises an array of beauty beneath it.

  “You’re the best friend a girl can have,” I tell him, reaching up on my tiptoes to place a chaste kiss to his cheek. The muscle in his jaw twitches as I pull away. His eyes are closed, and I fear I overstepped, but when they shoot open, his pupils have swallowed all the color. I feel like a rabbit caught in the stare of a predator. There’s a longing in his gaze, fierce and deadly, and my stomach knots.

  Ven would have been such a better match for me. But I’m afraid to get too close to him in case I’m torn away. I can’t handle more heartache.

  Opening the bedroom door, I hesitate before inviting him inside. I suddenly feel conscious of my choice in loungewear. He follows me inside and places the sweet treats on a table set out in front of a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the trees at the back of the estate.

  It reminds me of when Irina and I were younger.

  Irina.

  The pain of losing her never ebbs. I know it won’t always be this way, but right now, she’s caught up in the Vlad bubble, and I’m dirt to Vlad. I won’t push the issue yet. But one day, he will need to come to terms with the fact that I didn’t do what I did to spite him. It was just routine for me, a spell I was so caught up in, I couldn’t see past it or a way out of it.

  “I’m leaving in the morning on business. I will be away for at least a couple days,” Ven tells me, skimming his hand along the perfumes on my dresser that showed up the same day as the dresses. He picks one up and removes the lid to smell the sweet fragrance. Closing his eyes, he relishes the scent, then looks over at me. “I hate to leave you here alone.”

  “So don’t,” I reply as I swipe a finger through the sauce drizzled on the plate.

  The corners of his mouth quirks up. “What would you have me do instead?” He places the perfume down and picks up the earrings I wore to dinner.

  “Let me accompany you. I can be useful and repay you for all your kindness.”

  “Diana.” He says my name so desperately, my breath stills. His head bows, and he closes his eyes and swallows, the movement bobbing his Adam’s apple.

  “Ven?”

  He snaps his eyes open and smiles over at me, nodding. “Very well. You’ll come with us. Pack a bag and be ready at dawn.”

  With that, he leaves with haste, and I’m left confused and dizzy at the possibilities. This is the perfect opportunity to learn more about the Vetrov empire.

  Learn, infiltrate, rule.

  I bite my lip with anticipation. Then, I pull out a bag to pack.

  Let the games begin.

  Standing and looking out the window of the penthouse suite I booked for this trip, I swallow down my annoyance of listening to Vika complain about the sheets not having a high enough thread count.

  Ruslan insisted she join us so she wasn’t left at home alone with Father. His words were: “I’ll not have my future wife pregnant with my brother or sister, and you know if I leave her here alone, he will be inside her before we’re even off the driveway.”

  He had a point.

  Doesn’t mean it makes her presence any more enjoyable.

  I feel her before I hear or see her. Diana. “We are in a five-star hotel, Vika. The thread count will be the best there is and has nothing to do with why you’re cold at night. Maybe it’s your frosty personality or stone-cold heart leaving you bitter at night,” Diana taunts, and a chuckle rumbles from my chest.

  “Ruslan,” Vika gasps. “Are you going to allow this whore to speak to me this way?”

  My body solidifies. She’s about to go through this window. Why does this woman not learn her place? You’d reason after my father’s treatment she would think twice before opening that mouth of hers, but here she is puffing her chest, spitting her vile words. A slap resonates around the open space, and Vika’s head snaps to the side. Diana is standing next to her, her shoulders straight, eyes narrowed.

  “You ever disrespect me again and it will be more than a slap you receive, bitch.” Diana accentuates the word, then walks over to the kitchenette like nothing happened.

  Vika holds a hand to her face and glares at the back of Diana’s head. “Ruslan?” she breathes. He shrugs, chucking nuts into his mouth, and flips through the sports channels. When she storms out of the room, Ruslan’s eyes flicker to me, then back to the screen. He knows Diana is off limits. She’s mine—or she will be.

  It’s an unusual sensation, the intense feelings I harbor toward Diana. They’ve been there for years as I’ve admired from afar. Dreamed of her. Imagined what she would feel like beneath me. Every faceless woman I slipped into was her—always her. I want those red rosy lips on my skin exploring, her tight little ass crimson with my handprints. Her pussy dripping with my seed. That hair wrapped in my fist while I ram so hard into her, we’ll become one fucking entity.

  Fuck, my cock needs some attention.

  She’s under my skin, living in the essence of my soul. Her claws are burrowed deep, infecting the bloodstream. She has me under her fucking spell.

  I’m not sure what it feels like to not want her.

  To not love her.

  I believe in fate. And we are fated. It’s why things didn’t work out with Vlad. It’s why he brought her to me. I should have claimed her years ago. Soaked that soft ivory skin in my cum. Bruised her lips with my rough kisses. Delved so deep into her, she wouldn’t know where she begins and I end.

  “So, are we going?” Ruslan asks, looking at his watch—a watch I bought him for his eighteenth birthday. My little brother is growing up. It’s time he learns the ropes and is put to work. We lost not only a brother in Niko, but an asset to our business. Ruslan will have to learn quickly and pick up the slack. He will have to honor our family name and step into the darkness of our world with his eyes open and hands braced.

  “Diana will be joining us,” I tell him. His brows almost reach his hairline and his lips twitch to speak, but he thinks better of it and simply nods in agreement. “Vika will not be,” I say sharply.

  He shrugs. “She’s tired anyway. She can stay here and rest.”

>   The mules are kept in less than humane conditions. I need to discuss plans with Father to purchase more well cared for merchandise. Father didn’t care about the quality of the women, but this is why he doesn’t sit at the head of The V Games table. Anyone can obtain a dirty whore from the streets—cheap, nasty, and open for anything your depraved mind can conjure up. But a woman of status, a woman who hasn’t been fucked by a fleet of handlers before she’s even reached her destination, those are harder to come by. Men want a tight cunt and a pretty face. These women wouldn’t even cause a spasm in my cock.

  My attention falls on Diana.

  Her face is flawless, no sign of repulsion, no judgment about this dark side of our business. She wears her mask perfectly, but I’ve been studying this woman since I was a teenager, and in the piercing blue of her eyes, I see the disapproval. The handler keeps letting his gaze wander to her, and I know what he’s thinking.

  Why is she here?

  Who is she?

  Does she have a price?

  No, motherfucker. There’s not enough money in the world that could buy you a rose as precious as this one.

  “They’ve all been tested and cleared. The paperwork is over here if you have the transfer ready.”

  Paperwork.

  Is there no escaping such a thing, even in our business? We must sign contracts and deal with paperwork.

  “What happened to this one?” Diana asks, looking down at the crate where a small blonde woman sits huddled against the back bars. She’s dirty, like the others, but there’s blood staining her underwear. All the women have been stripped down to plain white panties and no bras.

  He follows her gaze and grunts. “Oh, the doctor was a little rough.”

  “Then he should be punished.” Diana narrows her eyes on the handler. “These women are merchandise, to be sold intact. Your prices are too high for such a poor display of quality,” she snaps.