17. Vlad

Watching Inessa sleep is the most amount of peace I'm able to get. It's still dark and I know I should leave before she wakes up but she's so serene, facing me on her side. There's no harshness in her features and her lips twitch at whatever she's dreaming about. Her hand hasn't left her stomach since I woke up three hours ago. I don't know how long I slept for, it must have only been an hour, but it's enough as long as I can watch her.

She doesn't stir as I move down the bed and have a private conversation.

"You won't know me, but I will always know you." My voice is barely audible to my own ears, and I look up, making sure she hasn't woken up. Her snores restart as though she knows not to eavesdrop, and I continue. "If anyone ever tells you about me, you'll probably hate me, and that's okay. I've fucked up a lot, malen'kaya koroleva. Be good for your mama okay? She talks a lot, but it's because she cares and she's strong. Be strong like your mama, not like me."

I carefully sit up, ensuring I don't touch either of them, then pull the sheets up before I leave. Ana is entering the house when I come down the stairs, and surprisingly, pipsqueak is the only person who doesn't give me shit. Her eyes are narrowed, staring at the shitty fucking flowers on the hallway table, and she shakes her thoughts away rather than talking to herself like she usually does. My voice is rough as I pass her, needing those fucking things out of existence.

"Get rid of them. And don't accept any that aren't from me."

If my wife wants to live in a florist, I'll do it, not some slimy cunt who thinks they're remotely good enough for her. Valentin's call comes through as I step outside, and I answer on the first ring, knowing it's too early for him to be awake. He doesn't have a tantrum. He's stopped since he started treating me like I'm his colleague and not his brother.

"The meeting has been set."

He ends the call, and I refrain from dialing him back to tell him he could have sent it in a message. I know why he's doing it — he wants me to hear how fucking cold he's become.

I've never felt my age, I spent my childhood as an adult and now I'm aging every minute. I can feel my cells slowly decaying as I walk away from Inessa and get in the car. She hasn't moved despite opening a new site for Steorra, closer to the home she belongs in. She'll make the journey every day, and I've made a point of never being there, so she feels comfortable enough to move back. I'll still break in to make sure she's safe through the night, but at least she'd have her days with company.

* * *

Dima ison the verge of throwing up as I roll my shoulders and twist my neck to each side to try to alleviate some of the tension.

"Next one."

There's no emotion in my voice and my nose twitches as he shakes his head. He grumbles under his breath before walking through the warehouse to where we keep the sick cunts. The blood on my arms is semi-dried and I look around the tarp covering the floor to try to work out which fucker I started with. None of them are recognizable and I'm sure there's a limb missing.

I count them out — four torsos, eight legs, four heads, and only seven arms.

Where the fuck did their arm go?

Dima is taking too long, so I go to the sink and try to get as much blood off me as possible. My boxers are stuck to me from how saturated they are, and my face is taut from the amount dried on my skin. But this is the only way I can get peace without Inessa, or I'll end up fucking following her all day. Pipsqueak has already caught me twice, and I'm not giving that little psycho a chance to do it a third time.

My hair is stuck together, the blood binding the strands together and I tilt forward, running the water over my head. The industrial-sized spray faucet pelts ice-cold water against my scalp and I don't close my eyes as the murky red drips down. The water won't run clear, I'll need to scrub at my scalp. Memories assault me of when my queen stood on a chair in the shower to do this shit, she was smiling despite how idiotic it was and an ache forms behind my ribs. It splinters, sending shards further into me and I focus on my breathing rather than the tightness choking me.

My phone rings and I answer it without looking as I move back to scrub my hands. Ana's voice comes through, filled with urgent excitement.

"Send someone else to look after Inessa. Some dickhead is shouting at her."

I'm already moving and pull on a t-shirt that Valentin must have left behind as my voice drops, erasing all other sounds.

"Where?"

The material melds to my skin and I grab a pair of shorts from the emergency clean-up bags before pulling on sneakers and pipsqueak must move closer to my wife because I can hear her.

"Like I said, you are not allowed in here. You can leave of your own accord, or you can be escorted away by the police."

Where the fuck are the guards?

Steorra.

She has a pre-opening event for the kids to see the new building.

But there should still be fucking guards around my wife.

Dima steps out of the hallway, dragging some beaten pedophile with him and he drops the fucker as I charge forward. Ana's voice is still filled with excitement as she whispers to herself, "This is going to be fun. So fun." Her voice rises, and she forgets I'm on the line as I leave the warehouse and get in the car. "Oi dickhead? Why don't you shout at me, you little bitch?"

Dima must be moving faster than normal, or time is fractured because he jumps in as I start driving, uncaring that his legs are going to be taken out from under him. I cut the call or pipsqueak does, I don't give a fuck. It all moves in a blur. Cars are on the wrong side of the road, their headlights attempting to blind me, Dima's mouth opens, but there's no sound, and something wet touches my arm. I don't process it because some fucking bitch is screaming in my wife's face.

It's dark already, I went into the warehouse during daylight, but I've been losing time for months. The only reason it sticks out to me is because Inessa is outside in the dark with some prick.

I see her before anyone else. There stood strong with her fingers wrapped around the door handle blocking the cunt is my wife. She has her other arm out, preventing Ana from doing her fucking job. Once I've dealt with the cunt, we'll be having a fucking conversation. What's the use in giving her a guard if she doesn't even use them?

Everything happens in slow motion while the rest of the world speeds up as I pull to an abrupt stop outside Steorra. The front privacy glass reflects the fucker's face back to me as I get out. His lips pucker before a glob of spit flies from his mouth and lands on my wife's face. Ana tries to move, but she's being careful not to knock Inessa's swollen belly as the cunt does the opposite, crowding into her and continuing to fucking scream profanities.

"You're a stupid fucking cunt. I hope that mini bitch in your stomach dies."

He's closer as my fist flies and a sickening crack fills the air. The second comes as he drops, slamming his head off the concrete walkway.

My foot comes up and I stamp on his fucking head as pain rips from my chest. A soft hand touches my arm and I look towards it.

Inessa.

She stands there, her dark eyes muted and spit still on her fucking cheek as she squeezes and flexes her authority over me.

"You are scaring the children. Not here." She turns to Dima as she pulls me back with the same authority. "Take him somewhere else. He beat his nine-year-old daughter and starved her."

Ana goes with him as they both lift the unconscious prick and I'm rooted to the spot because she's touching me. They both know what to do without me there, he'll stay alive, in pain, but alive until I'm ready.

My hands are already bloody, dyed pink from how often they're coated in the substance, and I go to lift the hem of the t-shirt covering me to wipe her cheek when her tone hardens.

"Put it back, there's blood all over you, and the children don't need to see it. Neither do I."

I expect her to rage, I welcome it, but she closes the door, ensuring the auto lock is engaged before pulling me with her to the side entrance of the building. She's not wearing heels, her feet must be hurting, and she turns, staring at my lips, taking my line.

"Shut your mouth."

Her hand leaves my arm as she calls the service elevator and it's like a switch has flipped and I'm back into my body.

"Why the fuck did you leave the building? You should have sent Ana out."

Her head doesn't turn as she grimaces and wipes the spit off her cheek with the back of her hand. She doesn't speak, her jaw moving in a wave under her skin as the doors open and she steps inside. I stay in step with her because is she fuck putting herself in danger. If she wants to kill me, she can do it without harming herself.

The harsh jab against the only button on the panel is the only reaction she has as I say her name.

"Inessa. Speak."

Her eyes remain fixed forward, and I turn to face her profile. Her hair is up. She never has her hair up because it annoys her scalp. It's the first thing I noticed about her, and Anastasia said she'd always have to massage it for her when they were kids and Dariya would put braids in her hair. The elevator continues the climb to the top floor where her office is, and she steps out, still not acknowledging me. But she brought me in here, so I continue following her.

Once I enter her office, she slams the door hard enough to shake the frame. There are photos on her desk, ones with Viktor and the horses, from his birthday party with the rest of the family she belongs with. The longer I stare at all the snapshots of a normal family, the more it's obvious that one thing is noticeably absent — me. Every image shows her family, even Maximoff has a place, but I don't.

Her voice is harsh, like a whip calling my attention back to her.

"What, and I mean this deeply, in the fuck do you think you're doing turning up here covered in fucking blood?"

I know the layout of the building and ignore the question to go into the adjoining bathroom and wet a hand towel. She's still standing in the same spot when I come out, and her eyes widen as I walk towards her. Inessa attempts to move back, and I delicately hold her jaw as I clean her cheek and focus on what's important.

"You don't put yourself in danger, meelaya, Ana's job is to protect you, not the other way around."

She grabs my t-shirt and pulls it up, exposing my body as she spits out. "We're talking about this, nothing else. What I do is none of your fucking concern."

My fingers flex around the delicate bone, and I pull her closer, being careful to make sure no part of her body touches mine. My jaw aches as I try to hold back the anger inside of me.

"You. Are. Still. My. Wife."

It comes out stilted and broken up, but the stubborn brat copies me, making me lose some of my rage.

"Not. For. Long."

She will always best me in everything I do, twist it around to have me the loser, all while she rises to the top to sit on her throne with her chin held proudly.

Fuck, I miss her. I miss the way she'd talk and never shut up. How she'd wrap her arms around my neck. Or lay her head on my shoulder. I hate that I don't know if she cries and there's no one for her to push her nose against if she does.

A blinding, wonder-filled smile takes over her face, and she looks down at her swollen belly. A little foot kicks out as she strokes across the bump, and my eyes close because it's in my periphery, and I can't have them. I don't open them as I turn her around to prevent temptation. Or as I kiss under her ear and hold her thighs to stop my hands from feeling the same thing she does. My voice lowers to a plea as I remain hidden.

"Don't put yourself in danger, meely moy, ever again. Don't argue with me about it, just make sure you're safe."

Both of you.

Her soft lips brush my cheek as she turns her head and calls a truce to her hate.

"Okay, I won't."

Fuck, I can breathe, and I allow my lungs to fully inflate. I need her to be safe, happy and safe. Not blue. She peels my hands off her thighs and turns to face me. I can feel her eyes on me before I blink, and worry marks her beautiful features. It increases as she looks at me from head to toe, then breaks into an accusation.

"You're not wearing a suit."

I nod and cup her face with both hands, my thumbs stroking across her cheekbones as I commit her face to memory. One hand is free from the pink stain, the other is coated in it. My voice lowers as I continue pleading with her.

"Promise me you'll be happy."

She doesn't answer and holds my wrists to take my hands off her. Ice sets into my veins until she guides me to sit down on the sofa between two bookcases.

She doesn't complain about the blood on me as she sits on my thigh and strokes my hair back. My hands remain limp at my sides, my body shutting down function to the limbs to prevent me from tainting either of them. Her soft voice floats against my lips as she begs, "Talk to me. Maybe we don't have to hate each other."

I don't hate her. I wish I did. I'd give anything to hate her, maybe then I wouldn't be consumed with dread that I've already ruined her. The words don't leave me though. If I let it out of the box I've created in my mind, it will rip everything apart, rip me apart.

My weakness and my strength.

Inessa doesn't stop attempting to coax it out of me and she shifts uncomfortably on my thigh. Everything sinks. It's the same reason as the others, the ones who would meet my eyes, but I give into it as I softly press my lips to hers, giving her at least one thing that she wants.

The physical is easier, it won't burn, and she moans into my mouth as I stroke up her thigh with my clean hand. I don't allow myself to touch anything more than her thighs as I attempt to reposition her so her back is against my chest. I can't fuck her with the blood on my skin. I can't taint her and burden her body with my filth.

But she doesn't let me and hardens, pressing her hands flat against my chest and standing to her full height. Her eyes are filled with disgust, at me, she knows, and she's disgusted now.

"I want the truth, not your tongue feeding me lies. I won't be your mistress any longer. It's not fair on either me or the woman you've given your heart."

I nod and stand. I have no intention of leaving, but she moves out of my path as I reach for her face again. My voice turns rough, and I force everything away to say, "Don't hold Ana back again." Then I leave and walk the fuck away from her while she's still awake.