VLAD (The V Games #1)(6)

“We’ll have to wait until he turns eighteen in a couple months,” Father ponders aloud.

I have all the time in the world.

“The engagement doesn’t have to wait, though,” I urge. “We can have this settled and decided by the end of the week. This time next week, we’ll be drunk and fat on a celebratory pig roast as we wish them well on their future marriage.” The animal on the fire won’t be the only pig getting roasted.

Fuck you, Vika.

You got the only person I truly ever felt close to sent away, and now you’ll pay.

“Very well,” Father agrees with a sigh. “I’ll meet with Yegor and we’ll settle this once and for all. Ruslan and Vika’s marriage in exchange for his parcel of land. As soon as we have the land, I want it done. We need that opening with Nizhny Novgorod.”

“Of course, sir.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’ll have to break the news to her. I’ve got business to attend to.” He rises from his chair and stalks from my office without a backwards glance.

Another weakness. He doesn’t want to deal with my bratty sister when she has the meltdown of the century. I’m sure he sees our mother’s eyes glaring back at him when Vika lets loose. Vika is the only person I’ve ever seen raise her voice to our father and live to tell the tale.

A smile turns the corners of my lips up. “I’ll be glad to tell Vika the exciting news, Father,” I utter long after he’s gone. I text her to meet me in my office and count down the seconds until she arrives.

The moment I get a whiff of her cloying stench, I glance up to see Vika standing in my doorway in a pristine cream-colored pantsuit. She stares at me with suspicion dancing in eyes identical to our brother’s. Her dark brown hair, cut in a trendy style that suits her striking features, has been straightened into smooth, silky locks that glimmer under the overhead light. She purses her blood red lips as she awaits what I have to say. Despite the makeup, hair, and prissy fucking clothes, she is the exact replica of our brother. Gone is the bouncy little sister she once pretended to be; in her place, stands this possessed, power hungry snake.

A pang of sadness slices through me. For the loss of her as well as Viktor.

I’m not to contact him, seek him out, or reach out in any way. It fucking kills me because I know he’s hurting and confused. He’ll rise again, but wherever he is, I know he’s feeling the pain of the loss of his family.

Viktor would have been better off if Father had just killed him.

Awareness prickles through me.

Father didn’t send him away to spare him. It wasn’t a fucking weakness. He sent him away to prolong his suffering. It wasn’t a pardon—it was a goddamn life sentence.

I straighten my spine and file that epiphany away to dissect for later. For now, I’ll enjoy the fruits of my labor.

“Please,” I say, motioning to the seat Father recently vacated. “Have a seat.”

“I’ll stand,” she snips.

I push the map on my desk her way. Curious, she steps into my office and inspects it.

“What’s this?” she asks, her voice tight.

“Ours,” I tell her with a wolfish grin.

She frowns. “It says Vetrov on it.”

“Soon, it will say Vasiliev.”

“How…?” she trails off, and her eyes expanding. “Veniamin? I’m to be married to Ven?” She beams at me, the expression lighting up her face. My sister is beautiful when she’s not plotting evil on her own flesh and blood. Ven would be lucky to have her. That is…until she opened her mouth or spewed her hate.

I stand and fold the map neatly. Precise squares. Slowly. Just to make her wait. When she huffs, I abandon my task and meet her eyes. “Mrs. Vetrov, just like you wanted.”

She can’t keep the giddiness from her eyes at my words. Whore. “Your engagement will be a long one.”

“What?” she demands. “Why? I want to marry Veniamin now.”

I stare at her for a long moment, drinking in her vulnerability before I go in for the kill. When I’ve had enough waiting, I cluck my tongue. “Oh, Vika,” I say, as though it pains me to deliver the news, “not Veniamin. Father wants you to marry Ruslan.”

It takes a moment for her to register what I’m saying. The words actually lash out like a ball whip and stun her into stumbling back a few feet. Then, she screeches in horror. “What? That’s ridiculous! He’s seventeen! Have you seen his face?!”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” I say in a dry tone. “You’re only eighteen yourself. Besides, in another few months, he will be of legal age. Then you both can make lots of Vetrov babies.”

“You fucking asshole,” she hisses. “You did this. I’m going to speak to Father and he’ll—”

“He’ll do nothing,” I bite out, my own anger brimming to the surface. “He’ll do nothing because it’s already been decided.”

She screams as she charges my desk and slings all my papers onto the floor. Her snooty features have been replaced by a snarled, rage-filled expression. Amber eyes blaze like the devil himself is inside her and ready to wreak havoc. “You won’t get away with this,” she whispers, her body trembling with anger. “I’ll win. You’ll see.”