He storms our way, his hands fisted at his sides. He points at my fucking girl and sneers. “Yuri promised me a piece of that little cunt. He said she was my prize, just like she was Artur’s prize.”

  Darya gasps in horror. Shame. Fear.

  Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum.

  She pulls free from my hold and stumbles backwards. I feel her emotions as though they are my own. Swelling in the air toward me. He’s fucking lying. He just has a death wish. And the beast caged within me is tugging at his leash to grant it.

  The cousins have followed him over to me, their demeanor calm for the clubgoers all around us, but their eyes are fire and ice, blazing with fury until they fall upon my girl. Their brows furrow.

  I turn to Darya and see a look I’ve never witnessed on her face before.

  Guilt.

  Her bottom lip trembles, and she begins shaking her head as fat tears well and fall down her cheeks.

  I knew Yuri was fucked up, but this just solidifies that thought. He didn’t fuck her, she was telling the truth about that. She just didn’t tell me he used someone else for the fucking part.

  Jealously slams into me, but it’s sharply followed by grief for what she lost to those men. The sounds of music fades as a buzzing begins an insistent hum in my ears. Faces blur and logic dims as my wrath comes rushing in, gripping me in its steel trap. I can just make out Ivan yanking off his shirt and assuming a fighting position, nodding his head at me. His mouth opens as the words tumble out, sealing his own fate.

  “I’m going to knock your head off your shoulders, Vas, and then take what’s rightfully mine.”

  I charge without a second thought. My fist cracks across his jaw with a pop, sending him flying down some steps straight onto the outskirts of the bar. People yell, moving around us, but I see only him. My darkness is consuming, and I’m allowing the devil to have control. I have one target. My only focus: make this motherfucker pay. Jumping the steps down to where this motherfucker is just getting to his feet, my arm snaps out fast with another punch to his face before he comes to his senses and retaliates. Ivan is older and slightly bigger, but I will crush his weak ass and send him to his brother in fucking Hell. He lands a punch to my ribs, but I don’t even feel it—I’m numb. With a powerful kick, I shove him into a table, sending chairs and glasses clattering to the floor. Someone grabs at me, but I shake them off with ease.

  Ivan shoves me through a curtain, and I land on my ass on the dance floor. People yell and scatter, but then form a tight circle around us. Ivan watches me with hunger in his eyes from above me. His feet move like the fighter he’s been brought up to be. Too bad he’ll never be like me.

  With a hard swipe of my leg, I knock him off his feet, then scramble over to him, wrapping my hands around his throat as I straddle him. He punches my ribs, but my rage makes me immune to the pain of his hits. This is the fucking end for him. There is no mercy within me.

  Crack! Crack! Crack!

  The sound of my fist crushing into his face blends with my own roars. Blood spurts from his mouth and nose. “You’ll never get near her. I’ll kill anyone who fucking tries. No one will hurt her ever again,” I shout as I lay blow after blow. Anger so intense and powerful flows through me, bringing out a darkness I’ve never truly explored before now. I’ve always known I’m deadly, but this? This vehemence is uncontrollable. It’s a force of its own. I’m about to land another hit when someone yanks me backwards, caging me against them. Ivan coughs blood, groaning. Some men step forward and get him to his feet. I stare at the mess that once resembled a man. A man well-respected. A man with ambition. A man who I once called a friend.

  He takes the reprieve to stumble through the crowd.

  His words echo around my head, polluting the image of my girl.

  I tear free from whoever grabbed me, the roar of fury rumbling from my chest as I push people out of the way. He’s headed toward the VIP area again, but he’s sloppy, slow, half fucking dead. With a shove to his back, he staggers down the hallway instead. People scatter out of the way. The asshole thinks he can escape me inside the elevator, but I’m quicker. I slip in just as the doors close.

  “Did she tell you how she’d come with a soft moan as my brother raped every one of her stupid holes?” he taunts, spitting his blood at me. His sharp inhales are rough and broken.

  I swing my fist again, but he ducks, and my knuckles collide with steel. He charges, head butting my stomach, slamming me into the closed doors. My hands mash into buttons as I try to get my bearings and push him away. The doors open and we crash into the floor of the training room. We roll, fists swinging relentlessly. He manages to pin his weight to me, but I use his momentary advantage against him and drive my knee into his kidney. He howls, but doesn’t relent. His hands are now around my throat, cutting off the air supply. My punches in his sides are ineffective. He knows this is kill or be killed. One last burst of energy from him before it’s hail to the victor.

  “As soon as I kill you, I’m going to take her from you, Volkov. Just like your sister took my brother. And I won’t be fucking gentle like Artur. We all know he was weak. Him and Alyona both are. I’m going to make Darya squeal like a little pig,” he hisses on a mumble, blood running down his chin. He’s missing some teeth and trying to distract me with words that only fuel my madness. “I’ll rape her back into submission—”

  Red, blinding rage courses through me as I reach up and grab both sides of his face. “Go fuck yourself,” I spit.

  With a quick, disgusting snap, I twist his neck, and his body loses its fight, falling limp on top of me. My chest heaves and my ears ring so loudly, I almost imagine her voice.

  “Vas!”

  I blink away the murderous fury as my girl comes spilling from the elevator. Her brothers are on her heels, worried looks on their faces. She chokes on a sob as she realizes what’s happened.

  “I’m sorry,” I croak out. Her eyes are accusing and frightened.

  She glowers at me as she falls to her knees beside me. With a growl, she pushes Ivan’s corpse from me. “Sorry?” she shrieks. “You’re sorry?”

  I blink at her in confusion, then turn my eyes to her brothers. “He was going to hurt her,” I defend. Killing someone so recklessly in their club comes with consequences.

  Darya’s head whips up to her brothers, tears rolling down her cheeks. “He deserved it,” she sobs, her bottom lip trembling wildly as she pleads. “His brother deserved his death too. They were animals—pets of Molokh. I won’t let him or anyone take another thing from me.” She grasps my face in her grip. “If you punish Vas, you punish me,” she sobs, crushing her lips to mine. The metallic taste of Ivan’s blood is sharp in our kiss—a deadly reminder of what’s waiting for you if you play games you can’t win.

  “Little sister.” Rodion coughs to interrupt Darya’s overwhelming need to kiss me relentlessly. There’s a vise still gripping my heart I’m ashamed to admit is caused by the knowledge of Artur, knowing what she kept from me. It’s unfair to her, but it doesn’t stop the fact that it’s there.

  “You can release him now. Vas went about it the wrong way,” Rodion groans. “But…fuck,” he adds, shaking his head, “we would have done the same exact thing if Vas hadn’t been acting like a crazed man. We have done the same thing.”

  “It’s chaos up there. We need to do damage control,” Zahkar airs his concerns, his voice gruff.

  I wince at their tones. “I’ll pay for the damage.” By damage, I mean the pay-off it’s going to take to keep any customers quiet. In a place like this, it’s not often you get someone with loose lips, but when the cousins beat a man almost to death in the club last year, they offered out stacks of cash as a “sorry if your night got ruined” sweetener. They will have to do the same this time around since the fight was in the main bar, not underground.

  The elevator door dings, and three men step out. Andru, dressed in an expensive black suit, is followed by two of his security detail. Andru’s cold eyes sweep over Ivan with disgust before gently caressing his daughter, then landing on me.

  “Are you stupid, boy?”

  I tense at his choice of label. I’m no fucking boy. “He was going to hurt her. Like his brother already fucking did.” Slowly, I rise to my feet. Darya follows with me. My entire body still quakes with anger.

  My words strike Andru, and he flinches slightly. “He was going to hurt you, zvyozdochka?” Little star.

  Darya nods and lets go of my hand to walk over to Andru. Her voice shakes, but she delivers her words bravely, albeit a whisper. “Artur told his brother about the things he forced me to do. Awful things while Molokh watched. Ivan was going to do the same thing.”

  Sickness stirs in my gut as the demons in my mind wreak havoc with images of my girl being violated.

  Andru’s eyes glitter with rage. Rodion and Zahkar thrum with hatred at her words.

  “Death was too easy for him,” Andru hisses. “My men will dispose of the body. Boys, go upstairs and do what you can to clean this mess up. I’ll take care of the rest. It appears I arrived just in time.”

  “Not that it’s not good to see you,” Zahkar utters, “but why are you here?”

  “We have business at the Volkovs,” Andru answers smoothly. “I want you both there with me.”

  “What business?” I ask.

  Moving forward, he curls a loose strand of hair behind Darya’s ear, then strokes her cheek.

  “Documents that need filed and signatures in place. Yuri took the deal, and now, it’s all to be made official. Your sister, Diana, thought it best we all come together at a neutral place. Her father’s estate was agreed upon.”

  Rodion and Zahkar both give me a respectful nod.

  “Okay, we will get upstairs sorted, then we will close for a couple days to let things blow over,” Rodion states before leaving. His men have already gotten to work on dragging the body toward a stairwell, leaving the three of us alone.

  “This will be taken care of,” Andru assures us. He doesn’t ask who Molokh is, but based on the dangerous flare of his pupils, I think he knows. But Yuri Vasiliev doesn’t just go away. Not even for a Vetrov.

  “It’s time my daughter comes home. I would like you both to come home,” he tells us, looking between us both.

  Darya rushes him, enveloping him in a hug. This is the first time since knowing he’s her real father that she’s gone to him willingly. He hasn’t pushed, and she’s seemed resistant until now. At first, he’s stiff, but then he hugs her tight against him and kisses the top of her head.

  “You are my daughter, zvyozdochka. I won’t let a thing hurt you,” he vows, stroking his fingers through her silky brown hair. “I won’t let a thing hurt the ones you love either.” His eyes meet mine, and he nods in thanks. Thank you for killing the Voskoboynikov rat who intended to rape my daughter.

  “Thank you, Daddy,” she mutters. Her head tilts up. “Is it okay if I call you that?”

  The violent expression bleeds from his face as his features contort into one of love. He regards her as though she is the most precious thing he has seen. I wonder if he adored Vlad’s mother too. “You may do whatever makes you happy, lyubov moya.” My love. “Can you do something for me too?”

  She nods. “Yes.”

  “Take him back home. If I’m going to help my boys clean up this mess, I need not to worry about you two. Go back with Vas and stay with the Volkovs. I’ll send word when it’s safe again.” He smiles as he tenderly cups her cheek. She tilts her head, relishing his gentle touch. “Go on. Make haste.”

  “Thanks,” I grunt as I pass. “I’ll pay the price. Whatever it is.”

  He makes a clucking sound of his tongue. “I am not a Vasiliev, boy. I’m her father. I’m the one willing to pay the price for my daughter’s protection. You’ve done more than I could have imagined.” He pats my shoulder before releasing me to grab his cell phone.

  I usher Darya into the bloody elevator and hit the button for our floor. She hugs me tight.

  “You killed her brother,” she breathes against my chest. “You have to tell her.”

  Shame coats my insides. I hate Artur for what he did to Darya. Luckily, he paid for his sins at the hands of my sister. Ivan tossed out threats. He died for even speaking them. But still…still…guilt gnaws at me.

  “I will. And then we’re leaving.”

  I take her hand and guide her to Alyona’s room. I knock once, and she opens the door, her glare icy. “What?” she snaps, clearly upset at how her brother treated her earlier. Her anger gets swallowed down as she takes in my bloody appearance.

  “Vassy,” she whines, sensing the news before I even speak it.

  “I’m sorry,” I croak. “I couldn’t let him hurt her too.”

  Alyona blinks rapidly, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Volkovs taking out Voskoboynikovs is tradition,” she barks out harshly. “You here to eliminate me too?”

  I release Darya’s hand to pull Alyona into my arms. Hugging her stiff frame, I whisper my apologies into her ear. She may have hated her brothers, but they were still her blood.

  “I don’t have brothers anymore,” she whimpers. “I don’t have anyone.”

  I’m the enemy—a murdering Volkov—and yet…

  “You have me,” I growl fiercely. “I’m your brother. Maybe not by blood, but by bond.”

  She relaxes and sobs in my arms. I simply hold my friend, praying to the heavens above she’ll forgive me. I did it for Darya. Darya is like a sister to her. Neither of us could have lived with ourselves had Ivan hurt Darya. Alyona knows this deep down.

  “You owe me a new pair of shoes, brother,” Alyona says, swallowing down her emotion as she pulls away. The fierce girl is once again in place.

  “I owe you a lot more than that,” I utter.

  She smiles tightly, the tears on her face the only indicator of the fact that I stole her only brother left from her. “I’ll remember that when I swipe your credit card so fast, it starts a fire.”

  Darya pushes past me and hugs her. They both burst into tears again, and I leave them to pack a bag.

  The world I live in is fucked up.

  The players are wicked sinners.

  But it’s the only world I know—the only world we know.

  My soul is in chaos. Vas ushered me into his room two days ago in the dead of night after driving home from Moscow and there’s a distance between us that’s breaking my heart. He brings food and sleeps here with me, but it’s like he’s not present.

  This is his father’s estate, yet he’s introduced me to no one apart from a maid named Mary.

  I pace the room for the millionth time, waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. The room is bigger than the entire apartment we had in Moscow, but with him always departing, it feels more like a prison of my own torment.

  It’s a physical pain stabbing at my heart every time the door clicks closed behind him.

  Just as I reach for a book on his large bookshelf, he appears dressed in his impeccable suit. The meeting is today. The Games Alyona is training for will become shared to prevent Molokh from seeking revenge on my father. On me. But it’s not for another couple hours, so why is he ready now?

  “Vas, are you leaving again?” I ask meekly, sitting on the edge of his bed.

  “I just need to get something before the First Families arrive.”

  “I feel so hollow. I don’t know how to fix what has broken between us. All I know is I love you.” I offer him honesty and pray to God he accepts it, offering it back in return.

  “I know.” He frowns, looking down at his feet. “I just can’t get the thoughts of Artur from my head.” He swallows.

  I crawl toward him over the bed, but he flinches and moves away from my outstretched hand.

  “It’s not your fault, Darya. I’m sorry,” he states without looking at me.

  “Is it because I didn’t tell you about him?” I sniff back the impending river threatening my eyes. It’s all I do in the hours he abandons me: cry.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demands, his voice fracturing with emotion. His fists clench and his eyes beseech me. The torment of this burden leaks through the cracks I’ve created within him.

  I hate myself for causing him this pain.

  “I wanted to be pure for you. To give you the illusion of something that was stolen from me. If you believed you were my first and only, I could too.” The tears spill free, and my body shakes from the power of the hurt inside me.

  I can’t lose him. I won’t survive it. I wish I was pure for him.

  “I wish it was different, but although my body was tarnished, my heart wasn’t. It has only ever belonged to you,” I tell him, pleading on my knees.

  He appears to sag at my words, a shine glowing in his beautiful eyes.

  “Fuck, baby. I’m a piece of shit.” He almost chokes, reaching for me and clasping his arms around me. I fade into him, desperately seeking his love, comfort, safety.

  My soul sighs from the contact of its mate.

  “Your body isn’t tarnished. What they did to you wasn’t your fault. Me dealing with shit badly isn’t your fault. I’m mad, baby, but not at you. At me, at them, at every-fucking-thing. I wish I could have saved you before Yuri ever laid his eyes on you.” He squeezes me so tight, I dissolve into his embrace, never wanting to leave it again.

  “You’ve saved me, Vas. Don’t give the past our now—our future.”

  Grasping my cheeks, his lips softly devour mine.

  “I love you,” he whispers against my mouth, between kisses of necessity and desperation, the need thickening and making his touch more urgent. “Damn, I’m so sorry, baby. I love you so damn much.” He pulls away too soon, and I moan at the loss of contact, making him smile down at me. “I’m sorry. I have to get some money from the safe. It’s for Mary.”

  Mary was the maid who cleaned this place. We found her crying on Vas’s bathroom floor while clutching a pregnancy test when we arrived. Vas told me to unpack while he closed the door with him and her inside. When he opened the door, Mary couldn’t stop thanking him.

  He confided in me she was pregnant with his father’s child.

 

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