VLAD (The V Games #1)(17)

“She’s fine. Resilient and deadly as you know.”

There’s fondness in his eyes as I speak of Diana, and I know it’s reflected back from mine.

“Ty khochesh’ yest’, Mr. Vasiliev?” the servant girl asks, looking up at me with doe eyes. She’s a much better fit than the girl she replaced who apparently had an accident in this very room.

“No, I don’t want to eat. You’re dismissed.”

We watch her scurry off before Ven nods his head in approval.

“Do you think they’re real?” I know he’s talking about the girl’s tits without him elaborating. They’re unusually large on a frame that small.

“I doubt she could afford the boob job,” I offer.

He appears to ponder that thought. “Maybe you bought them for her,” he muses aloud. “I saw the way Rada looked at you.” He grins as he takes a swig from the bottle of beer. Of course he knows her name. Ven seems to know everyone’s name. It’s admittedly something he’s much better at than me. People.

“Paying the servants for pleasures was always Niko’s style, not mine,” I jab, refusing to say her name, showing him I don’t think their names are worth knowing at all.

He laughs, loud and honest. “He was notorious for chasing the help away. Once, I caught him with his cock between the mattress and base of his bed, rutting away. He’d even paid Ursula, our fifty-year old cook, to shove a carrot up his ass.”

I almost choke on that visual.

He just shakes his head. “It’s the truth. He was seventeen. Our mother, God rest her soul, would have shot that woman dead if she ever lived long enough to find out about that, and I dread to think what our father would have done had that information made it back to him.”

“A carrot?” I snort.

“Put me off eating at home, I can tell you that,” he adds, finishing off the sandwich. “I miss him.”

I nod my head. “As do I, moy drug.” My friend.

“How is Vika settling in?” I say with a smirk, earning a glare from him.

“I thought with Niko’s unfortunate passing, we were free of that woman,” he grunts.

“At least it’s not your back the knife will be placed.”

He swallows the dregs of his bottle before setting it down with a clink against the granite countertop. “This is true. I must admit, I thought that might be put forward as an option. Me marrying your little sister. And no disrespect to you, Vlad, but man to man, friend to friend, I’d rather marry a peasant than that woman.”

“No offense taken.” I lift a brow at him. “But you owe me one.”

His dark brows furl together and he nods. I love the feeling of having power over someone. And owed favors are my favorite.

“You should still keep a keen eye on her,” I tell him. “She’s cunning and usually gets what she wants. She’s had designs on you for a while.”

“I’m well aware of what she’s capable of,” he grumbles. “Don’t you worry about that.”

His tone implies there’s more to what he means.

Does he know what Vika did?

I study him as he rises to his feet. “I’ll be off then.”

“So soon?” I taunt and walk from the kitchen, knowing he will follow me.

He always does.

When you know a man as long as I have, you have them figured out completely. And Veniamin Vetrov is no different. I’ve been studying him since I was a runt and knew I wanted to grow up to be a badass like him…but better.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I smile when I hear his footfalls behind me. Together, we walk down the corridor in the north wing to one of our many spare bedrooms and I twist the handle. I quickly check my watch and my blood rushes straight to my cock when I hear the shower hissing from the en-suite. The servant girl, or Rada, as Ven so kindly reminded me, uses this shower every night at the same time, just after her shift. The servants’ quarters are not quite to her standards it would appear. She doesn’t know I know her tricks, but this place has cameras at every turn.

There’s not a corner I can’t see in.

My eyes are everywhere.

Ven knows this game. It’s one we’ve played before. He pats my shoulder and whispers,

“One for old time’s sake.”

I move across the room and sit on the plush loveseat next to the bed. Ven dips into the shadows and we wait. Patient, like the predators we are.

Eventually, the door opens, and there she is, her huge tits and tiny body confined in a barely-there towel. Her dark hair is wet and clings to her skin. She spots me almost instantly just like I planned for her to.

“Mr. Vasiliev,” she breathes, clutching the fabric.

“Come closer,” I order, and she doesn’t question the instruction. Her legs comply as she moves toward me, stopping at my feet.

“Do you want to play a game, malyshka?” Little girl. I arch a brow at her.

Her breathing increases, and those real tits begin moving at rapid speed. She opens her towel and drops it to the floor.

I’ll take that as a yes.

I nod and get to my feet. Ven moves from the darkness, like he was bred from it, and stalks silently toward her. She’s unaware, her eyes fixated on me.

“Do you like games, malyshka?” I murmur, leaning down into her space so my breath can disperse over her fevered flesh. Her skin blossoms with tiny goosebumps as her bottom lip trembles with need.