VLAD (The V Games #1)(44)

“Diana’s servant is going to drive us,” she whips out, checking her nails. “Does Father know you’re already making me pick out my dress?” Her snide tone makes me want to laugh, but I don’t.

“Father doesn’t care, Vika,” I tell her, emotionless. Bored even. I’m already so goddamn bored with her. “Why should he?”

She spits more venom before turning on her heel. “Ya nenaviju tebya.” I hate you.

“He’s not a servant,” Diana informs her as she passes.

“What?” Vika snaps.

“Anton,” Diana says coolly. “He’s a bodyguard, not a servant.”

Rolling her eyes, Vika flees the room, leaving Diana and I alone.

Diana walks toward me and stops next to a picture of Viktor and I. It’s the same one Irina was playing with when she was in here. She picks it up and studies it. “With Viktor’s death, I thought you’d have gotten closer, but you appear to be at odds with your sister.”

I stand and round the table, taking the picture from her hand and placing it down. “Vika has always had her own agenda. She doesn’t care about Viktor.”

Her brows furl as she places a hand over my heart. “You speak of him like he’s still here.”

“I still feel him here,” I tell her honestly.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have allowed him to enter The Games,” she adds brazenly.

I study her features for a moment. This woman is supposed to be my wife soon. Irritation bubbles up inside me. Sometimes I wonder if Diana and I are too similar to be properly matched. One day, her tendency to question my authority will rub me the wrong way and it won’t end pretty.

“Are you saying I didn’t value my brother’s life like you do Irina’s?” I attempt to keep my voice steady, but anger causes it to shake slightly. She is walking on thin ice. Viktor is a trigger for my less calm side.

She drops her hand and shrugs a shoulder. “I’m just saying I would have never risked Irina like that.”

“You know our life,” I spit out. “Viktor lived to enter The Games. He wanted to prove himself to my father.”

“Well, it didn’t work,” she says with a huff. “Did it?”

Anger coils my nerves. How dare she speak of things she doesn’t understand?

“Shagay ostorojno, Diana.” Tread carefully, Diana.

Her lips purse and she gives me a slight nod. She knows she’s pushed as far as she can for one day. I’m seconds from snapping. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” she says, her voice all business as she changes the subject. “Irina is taking a nap. She’s exhausted for some reason. Please make sure she eats some dinner.”

“I will.”

She stands on her tiptoes and plants a chaste kiss to my cheek. “Vlad.” With that, she walks toward the door.

“Safe travels,” I call out to her retreating form. She doesn’t say another word as she leaves.

I take a seat back at my desk and smile at the idea of sweet little Irina needing to nap. Smooth, creamy skin on display. A soft pout on her supple lips as she sleeps. Gorgeous blonde hair in disarray. My cock is getting hard just thinking about pulling away her covers to view the delectable woman who would no doubt be hiding beneath.

All warmth is sucked from the room as a chill rattles down my spine. My back straightens when my father enters my office. He hardly ever comes here. If he wants me, he summons me, and like the loyal son I am, I obey.

“Otets?” It comes out as a question more than a greeting. I start to stand, but he holds his hand up to stop me.

“Sit,” he orders. He pours himself a drink from the canter I keep on my desk. Taking his time to get to the point is another of Father’s favorite games. To keep people on edge and waiting. But knowing this already, I simply wait him out. Two can play at his game. He’s no longer the ruler in my world, despite what he may think.

“Ruslan’s birthday is next month,” he says finally. “Let’s throw him a party and announce the marriage date. I want this marriage settled right away.”

Perfect. The sooner the better.

“Sounds like a great idea,” I concur. His shoulders are squared as he sips his vodka—a new brand, compliments of my fiancée. Evidently, Father is not done speaking.

“I want Darya brought into the main house and given living quarters.” His amber eyes narrow as he pins me with a hard stare, daring me to disagree.

I bite back a smirk and lean forward, clasping my hands together in front of me on the desk. “Oh?”

He’s never taken an interest in one of his fuck toys.

As if appearing to ponder this choice, he frowns for a moment before settling with a slight nod. He downs the contents of his glass and sets it down loudly. “She reminds me of your mother. I think I’ll keep her around for a month or two.”

My heart picks up speed at the mention of my mother. He never talks of her. She left when I was young, and we’ve never seen her since. Father won’t even keep pictures of her around. She scorned him, created an animal in her wake. He’s brutal with women, never to keep one around for long, and to have a whore brought into the main house is unheard of. For any of us. But that doesn’t mean I’ll be the one to tell dear old Dad no. If anything, it reveals a weakness—a weakness I’ll enjoy poking and prodding simply to see the effects of it.