VLAD (The V Games #1)(10)
Her lips purse and her golden brows furl. I’m seconds from stepping into the sunroom and asking if she’d like to paint me. For some reason, the idea of having my face—not the one I stare at in the mirror each day—on a canvas is inviting.
“Silly girl is always painting,” Diana says from behind me, a smile in her voice. It warms me that she cares for her sister. Despite her words, her tone speaks of love and acceptance. I feel the same way over Viktor. In a way, this connects us. Perhaps Diana and I could do well together in our future.
If Father allows it, of course.
Irina’s cheeks turn pink, and she turns back to her art. With a stifled sigh, I regard Diana. Today, her hair is smoothed straight, and the auburn catches the overhead light. I make note that her hair doesn’t have the same sparkle as her younger sister’s.
“I swear,” she says, her pink pouty lips twisting into a grin, “you get taller every time I see you.” Her fingers grip my bicep through the suit jacket Father always requires me to wear. “Have you been working out?”
Unlike my sister, Diana genuinely wants to know. She doesn’t have any ulterior motives. I like Diana. I like her a lot.
“Yeah, I guess. I’m getting ready for The Games. Won’t be long.”
Her nose crinkles in disgust, but she forces a smile. “Ahhh. The second annual. And you’ll be entering?”
I puff my chest with pride. “Father wills it to be so.”
Understanding flashes in her icy blue stare. If anyone understands growing up under a powerful man, it’s Diana Volkov. “Be careful. Some of us would like to see you make it to the other side.”
“Because you like my biceps?” I joke with a sly smile.
“No, the suit. A well-dressed man is a wonderful accessory for a lady.” She winks, and with a nod, turns on her heel and disappears into the house. A flash of golden brown hair runs past me, a bright red cape flowing out behind him. The Volkovs’ favorite housekeeper’s child has always lived here, but he’s usually not allowed in the main house when the Volkovs have company. Vas rushes into the sunroom hollering about being a supervillain. He’s only about ten or eleven, the same age as Irina, and a menace. Supervillain fits. And true to form, he sets to terrorizing little Irina almost immediately. She screeches at him when he tugs at the back of her hair.
“Vas! Go away or I’m telling my father!” She won’t, though. If she does, the little toad and his mother wouldn’t still be here. And Irina is too kind to tattle knowing it would affect their livelihood.
He grins evilly at her and punches his fist right through her canvas with a, “Hi-ya!,” destroying the work of art. I’m already storming in there before I can stop myself. I grab him by the collar of his shirt and yank him to me so we’re face to face.
“You ever mess with her again or destroy her paintings and I’ll paint the damn wall with your blood,” I seethe in a violent whisper. Probably too much, but I want to scare the hell out of him so he leaves Irina alone from now on.
The boy’s blue eyes widen in shock, but not fear. Something isn’t right in the little tyrant’s head. I release him, and he runs off.
“I’m sorry…” I trail off when I notice Irina is no longer in the room. “I’m sorry,” I say again to myself.
Present…
I pull under the awning of Myasnoy Dom, a famous Russian five-star restaurant. Diana doesn’t say a word, but I can sense her disappointment. When I asked her to dinner, I think she hoped for something a little more than “just business,” yet here we are at a neutral ground for the families to dine and negotiate. Bodyguards remain outside, and you check your egos at the door. Weapons are allowed inside, but under no circumstances are they to be used. Ever. Diana lets out a tiny sigh before flashing me her perfected smile—one that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“I hear the crab they got in recently is phenomenal,” I say before climbing out of the vehicle and handing the valet my keys.
When I round the car, Diana is already stepping out. The Volkov women don’t mess around with letting men hold doors for them. I respect that about Diana. Despite being as beautiful as they come, she still holds onto her inner fire. She’s an excellent businesswoman, and I’ve often wondered how she does it. Seeing her holding a gun and one of her men on the floor with a bullet in his forehead was surprising, but not a total shock. The Volkov women are known for having spines of steel—they do what needs to be done when the moment arrives. Their father raised them that way, to prepare them to take over the family business. He needn’t have bothered, though. Once she carries my name, I will take over it all and fill her stomach with our own heir.
Father has finally given the order.
I am to begin courting Diana. As if we didn’t know this would happen when she was twelve and I was ten. We’ve always known it was our destiny, which is why I was surprised father was in talks to marry her to Viktor. I don’t believe he was as clueless to Viktor’s attraction to the opposite sex as he made out to be. His mindset would have been more to marry him off as soon as possible to prevent gossip if it ever became known.
Diana’s compliance was a total contrast to the young Diana. When we were kids, she would pop off all the time about marrying whomever she falls in love with. But around the time she hit puberty and became a lady, her views changed. Love isn’t something we have the luxury of finding for ourselves. We are raised old school. We have rules and traditions. Diana became all about her duties. She no longer ran off into the woods with her younger sister and my siblings. No, Diana began sitting in with her father during his meetings. With her back straight and chin lifted, she listened carefully and took it all in. I know this because I watched her every move. If I were to wed her one day, I needed to be planning, and the biggest plan was knowing the person I would be matched with—every single detail about her.