VLAD (The V Games #1)(36)

She lets out a breathy curse. “Blyad.” Fuck.

“Diana?”

“You can’t say anything to Vlad,” she whispers, coming back to sit by me. “To anyone.”

“Tell me,” I order.

She swallows and lets out a tortured sigh. “A man. He’s older. I’ve known him for some time.”

I blink at her in confusion. “Did he force himself on you?” Vlad will kill him. I’ll kill him.

Her nose scrunches. “What? No. We’re…we…” she trails off, and more tears roll out. “Shadow, I love him.”

No.

This random old man?

Yuck.

“Diana…” I start, my voice low in warning.

She shakes her head. “Stop. I’ll hear nothing of it. Your heart can’t help who you love, even if it’s the wrong person.” She lifts her chin. “I won’t feel ashamed for what we have.”

“What you have?” I hiss. “You can’t have anything with him if we’re under Vlad’s roof and you’re to be marrying him. Diana, this is dangerous.”

She rises to her feet and snatches up her scarf. “You don’t think I know this? You don’t think I don’t worry every second of every day what it could mean if we get caught?”

“Caught?” I utter. “You’ve…you’ve had sex with him?”

She laughs, but it’s cold. “Sweet sister, you are so innocent. For that, I am glad. However, you have so much to learn of the outside world.” She wraps the scarf around her throat and frowns at me. “I’ve been sleeping with him for years. Years, Irina. That is love. What we have is love.”

My stomach bottoms out at her confession. “Please don’t have sex with him here. If Vlad finds out…” I almost gag at the thought of Vlad cutting my sister open like he did his whore. I can’t lose her. Vlad isn’t the type to take lightly to indiscretions in his own home.

“He almost did find out,” she admits, shame in her eyes. “My lover was coming to see me, but Vlad got there first.”

“He’ll kill you,” I whimper. “You have to stop.”

She takes a step back as though I’ve struck her. The strong, powerful woman I know and love has a crazed look in her eyes. Crazed by love. Or…brainwashed. The thought alarms me.

“I’ll deal with it,” she says finally, lifting her chin. “It will end once I’m married.” But the flicker in her eyes tells me otherwise.

“Diana, this isn’t you.”

She shakes her head. “No,” she says, waving all around us, “this isn’t me. But we all have our parts to play.”

Before I can reply, she hurries from the room.

Vlad may have shoved his tongue down my throat earlier today, but I don’t believe for one second he’d take the same thing happening against him lightly. Vlad is a player of an ultimate game where he always comes out the winner. If he noses around and discovers Diana has been sleeping around on him under his own roof, no less, he will want retribution.

That means I need to play my part.

I must distract him.




I head to dinner alone.

Diana was taking forever to get ready and I needed to formulate a plan. She wears another man’s mark now. If Vlad sees, he’ll lose his mind.

I need to make sure that doesn’t happen.

“Ma’am, you look striking this evening,” a deep voice murmurs.

I jerk my head to see Stepan leaning against a doorframe, his suit forming to his body nicely. His eyes rove over the swell of my breasts and then to my bare thighs. Tonight, I opted for a shorter dress. If I plan on distracting Vlad, showing a little leg is in order.

“Thank you,” I utter. “Have you seen Mr. Vasiliev?”

“Senior?”

“Uh, no. Vlad.”

He shakes his head as he stalks my way, a wolfish gleam in his eyes. I’d once thought he was cute, but now I just want to get away to find Vlad. I have a bigger game to play than hooking a handsome guy. I need to make sure my sister doesn’t get herself killed.

Stepan stops inches from me and stares. “Allow me to escort you to dinner.”

I step away from him, bumping my ass against the wall. “I…uh…”

“I’ll be escorting her to dinner,” a cold, masculine voice bites out. “Run along to the basement and check on my Darya.”

Stepan stiffens and flashes me a worried look before he steps away, not sparing me a second glance as he storms off. I’m left staring straight into the cold eyes of Yuri Vasiliev. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair with streaks of gray—he’s an older version of Vlad, handsome and regal. But something in his eyes screams violence. Whatever monster Vlad is, his father is a million times more vile.

“Sir,” I greet with a forced smile.

He approaches me, his eyes raking over my dress as he sizes me up. With no expression as to what he thinks, he offers his arm to me. “The dress suits you. Although, I do prefer the one last night over this one.”

A flash of memory assaults me.

Shiny and threatening.

A knife.

Not just any knife—Vlad’s scary hooked knife.

The small cut on my hip smarts at the thought. I’d wondered what had happened, and now it’s all flooding back. Images of Vlad on top of me. Pressed against me. His cock rubbing against my clit through our clothes.