VLAD (The V Games #1)(20)

“Your father’s bastard has returned to the fold, moi docheri.” My daughters. “To take the kingdom from beneath you.”

“Enough,” Father barks out his warning.

She’s always been weak, but in this moment, she is fire and beauty. She is Diana. Fierce and formidable.

“Look at you both,” Vas croons, holding his hands out in front of him. “So grown up. So beautiful.”

“Otets,” Diana breathes. Our father reacts to her pained call and moves toward her, taking her hands.

“I found out recently Vas is, in fact, a result of my indiscretion,” Father admits.

“She knows you screw the help,” Mother snaps. “They’re not blind or stupid.” She flinches, all fire snuffed out, when father drops Diana’s hands and waltzes toward her.

“Ostorojno, jenshina.” Careful, woman.

“How long have you known?” I find the words tumbling out of me as the past months play over and over in my head.

“Nearly a year,” Vas answers for our father.

Nearly a year? Bastard.

This is why he suddenly wants to pawn us off like chess pieces. He has no need for daughters. He has the son he always wanted. Vomit threatens to spill from my lips. I won’t give Vas or our father the pleasure of seeing me fragmenting, my entire childhood scattering and drifting away like smoke from a fire.




It’s been one full week since Father dropped the bomb. And a week was all it took to pack us up to move to the Vasiliev estate. Father was positively giddy as he escorted us to our new home. He’s getting the best of both worlds. Two daughters he can try to use as spies to gain the upper hand, and now a son to run his empire in their wake.

I hate him.

I hate Father so much, I could scream.

And all of Mother’s fury died once he set her in her place. She retreated to her room and drowned her sorrows in Father’s most expensive vodka, chasing pain pills like it was her job. That’s good ol’ Ma. Hiding behind a haze of numbness while her daughters are sent into the fray to do the dirty work.

As we enter the ornate foyer in the Vasiliev home, I realize this home is anything but the slums. Everything is expensive and well taken care of. Servants peek from around corners, trying to catch a glimpse of the new prizes Vlad has acquired.

That is what we are, after all.

Prizes.

After seeing Vas with my father and the way my mother behaved last week, I find my heart bitter and angry. Diana has retreated into herself, but I’m bubbling with rage. This life Father has created for us is bullshit. Yes, we’re spoiled with anything money can buy, but it can’t buy happiness. Hell, it can’t even buy contentedness. We’re moving into the enemy’s mansion and we’re expected to play nice.

I’m so done playing nice.

“This way,” a woman with big boobs and a forced smile says. We follow her through a series of corridors until it opens into a new wing of the house. “This is the north wing. Five bedrooms, five bathrooms, a small kitchenette, a library, an office, and a sitting area. I do hope these accommodations suit you.” Another fake smile. “The bathrooms, especially, are quite nice.”

Diana nods and smiles back at her. My sister’s smile is gorgeous. Fake as well, but gorgeous. “Thank you, darling. This is more than lovely.”

“I’m Rada,” the woman says. “Should you need anything at all, please push the button on any of the panels in each room and I will be at your service.”

As the woman starts to leave, Diana stops her. “Rada, when will dinner be served? I assume we’ll be dining with my fiancé, Mr. Vasiliev?”

Rada’s cheeks burn crimson and she purses her lips. “I’m unsure, ma’am. Someone will be around to let you know.” Rada bows her head, then scurries off.

“I don’t like her,” I grumble out.

“You don’t like anyone,” my sister teases. Despite her forced playfulness, I can sense her apprehension. We’re in the lion’s den. Vlad may be a gentleman and a longtime friend, but he’s still a Vasiliev. Cunning and ruthless. Violent when the situation calls for it.

“I should room between you in case any trouble should arise,” Anton grits out. “I’ll need to get to you both quickly.”

Diana gives him a nod. He stalks off to check out the rooms. I walk over to a leather chair in the sitting room and plop down. My eyes skim over every detail of the room. Dark, thick drapery covers the windows, allowing little to no light in. A fireplace cackles with a fire on one end of the room. Not a speckle of dust jackets anything in the space. The home is clean and immaculate, just not very warm and cozy. It could definitely use some throw blankets and a couple fuzzy pillows.

My sister smirks at me. “Don’t,” she warns, her lips turning up into a wide grin.

“I’m just thinking,” I say with a pout.

“And what color is this thought?”

I let loose a small giggle. “Teal. I mean teal and chocolate go so well together.”

“Oh, dear God,” she says, shaking her head. “Can you imagine the look on Vlad’s face if he came into this room only to see you’ve redecorated it to your specifications?”

I stick my tongue at her, earning another laugh. “I just think these big houses are gloomy. All it would take would be a few chenille blankets, a couple faux fur throw pillows, and a splash of color. Voila. Creepy dungeon turned magical reading spot.”