VEN Read online

  She gives me a soft smile before pulling away. “I have some homework to do. Raincheck on listening to music?”

  Her bodyguard, Anton, steps around the corner and eyes me warily. “Everything okay, Miss Diana?”

  She stiffens slightly, but nods. “Perfect,” she tells him. “We were just playing a game.”

  “I see,” he says, his eyes narrowing at me as though he doesn’t believe her. “Allow me to walk you to your room.”

  She nods and takes his offered elbow. They walk away, and she looks over her shoulder at me. Before they disappear around the corner, she flashes me one of her brilliant, beautiful smiles, and I store the image in my memory so I can revisit it—when I take my cock in my palm later.

  I don’t know what sort of games we’re playing…

  But I sure as hell want to win.

  I want to win…her.

  Present—Nine months before The V Games…

  “It’s true, Ven,” Vika tells me, an evil grin on her lips. “Precious Diana and that old man, Anton, are up to no good behind my good brother’s back.”

  She’s hit an all-time low, even for her.

  What a hateful vile beast.

  “Your lies will get innocent people killed, Vika,” I grit out as I grab her arm and sneer at her. “Diana is nothing like you, so stop projecting.”

  I want to throw her to the floor and show her where she really belongs, at the feet of men and women like us, not mingling and infecting the place with her vicious lies and head games.

  She snatches her arm back, and bites out, “I saw them with my own eyes. They were kissing like high schoolers at prom before disappearing into her hotel room when we went away to buy my dress.”

  Lies. Lies. Lies.

  That’s all Vika ever does.

  Vika may be beautiful in every sense of the word, but she is still the same obnoxious kid who used to terrorize the hell out of me. Now, she just has more weapons in her arsenal, and it’s not just me she lives to torment. Vika enjoys making everyone around her miserable. At one time, that was my brother. Niko truly loved her, I believe. She pursued him when she realized she was never getting her claws into my skin. And he fell for it—hook, line, and sinker. But he never got to marry her because he lost his life in the last V Games. My chest still aches at my brother’s death.

  “Let it go,” I grunt, then knock back my shot of vodka.

  “No,” she hisses. “I will not let it go. I’m going to tell Vlad everything and watch the fireworks.”

  Ignoring her, I saunter off to find Diana. I’ve been spending more and more time over at Vlad’s just for the opportunity to see her. This whole arranged marriage bullshit is ridiculous. Anyone with two eyes can see Vlad and Diana clash. They’re both control freaks and like power.

  I find her walking out of the dining room. Her tits jiggle in the barely-there dress she’s wearing as she walks, reminding my cock how much we crave her.

  “Vlad,” Irina yells from down the hall. “Vlad!”

  Alarmed, Diana’s smile falls, and she takes off running to her sister’s aid. I trot after her, ever the love-sick puppy. Diana almost gets plowed over by Vlad as he roars from his office with the fury of an F5 tornado. She crashes against me, and my arms encircle her narrow waist to keep her from falling to the floor. I release her unwillingly. I can’t exactly cuddle, grope, and smell the neck of Vlad’s fiancée without all hell breaking loose.

  “Vlad?” Diana asks, fear making her voice shake.

  Why does she fear him? Has he instilled that inside her?

  I’ll be goddamned if I let anyone ever hurt Diana. Not even my friend.

  He glowers at her, rage morphing his features into a face I’ve never seen before. I’m shocked the so put-together Vlad has lost his fucking mind. What the hell is going on?

  “Where’s Anton?” he growls so deadly, she begins to cry. My heart pounds, and my palms sweat.

  Vika hasn’t had time to already tell him the lies she fed me moments ago, so what the hell is he referring to?

  “Vlad,” she pleads, her eyes spilling with tears of betrayal.

  No.

  No way.

  Anton is old as fuck. He’s a nobody. A paid hand. Man for hire.

  It’s written on her features, though. Her trembling lip, her pale skin losing all the crimson usually flushing her cheeks. Her eyes are her tell, the truth engraved in the water pouring from them.

  It’s true. I can hear it in her voice. Vika wasn’t lying. Damn.

  Irina’s eyes drip with tears as she stands beside Vlad. I feel her pain. This isn’t good for Diana. This is really bad, in fact.

  “Diana,” Vlad snaps.

  She jumps at his tone, and I fight the need to turn her to me and ask her, why him?

  “I-I asked him t-to stay in his room t-tonight,” she stutters, sobs causing her body to tremble.

  I want so badly to take her into the safety of my arms, but that wouldn’t be good for her with the accusations being thrown at her. It would only fuel the fire raging so wildly in Vlad’s eyes.

  Vlad storms toward the stairs and takes them three at a time. Irina and Diana give chase, Vlad’s name on both their lips as they call after him, but he’s faster. I follow after them, wondering what the fuck is about to go down while already having an inkling it’s going to turn bloody. Vlad is not a man to be messed with. Since he was sixteen years old, he’s been a man—a killer—a reckoning you didn’t want cast your way.

  He kicks open what I believe to be Anton’s bedroom door, and I hear the shuffling of feet and Anton asking, “What’s going on?” It’s there in his tone, though. The deceit. The guilt. He knows. He knows his life ends tonight. Because you just don’t fuck over a Vasiliev and live to tell about it.

  I move to the space of the open door and see Vlad hit him hard with a closed fist, relishing the crunch of his jaw. Anton’s head snaps to the side, and then he attacks. But Vlad, under my lethal guidance and his father’s ruthless lessons, has trained his entire life and can easily dodge his punches. With quick moves Anton can’t keep up with, Vlad wraps a rope around his neck. He forces him into the corridor and ties the other end of the rope to the railing.

  “Vlad!” Diana and Irina cry out in unison.

  But it’s too late. He’s in a haze of rage, and nothing is dragging him back from it. I’m just here to make sure neither of them get in his way and become collateral damage. He flicks out his knife, and with enough momentum, sticks it into Anton’s groin, digging the blade all the way to the hilt.

  Sparks of energy from the killer inside me fire through my body as I admire his style. Vlad has a way with his punishments, that’s for sure.

  I’ve always admired him for his wicked appetites.

  “No!” Diana screams as Vlad drags the knife up Anton’s stomach, tearing the flesh, cutting an opening right up to his chest. The sounds are sickening for anyone who isn’t us.

  Vlad stands back, then kicks him over the railing, like he’s butchering cattle at a farm.

  Cries echo around me, and screams resound from below. A loud snap of his neck as it breaks and the splat of his intestines hitting the stone floor cause another ripple of screams.

  Poetic really. My eyes are drawn back to the fire in Diana’s gaze. Her fists hit at Vlad with surprising force.

  “No! You monster! Oh, God, what have you done?” She sobs hysterically as she beats and claws at him. I move toward them in case she’s next to receive the blade still gripped tightly in Vlad’s hold. Blood coats his slacks and wrists.

  “He was an animal,” Vlad growls, knocking her hands away like she’s a contagion.

  An animal? Unusual choice of words for someone fucking around with your fiancée. He was disemboweled like one all the same.

  “I love him!” she screams, her sobs broken. My own heart throbs at hearing those words.

  Vlad grabs her wrists and drags her to her room. My hackles rise and my fists clench with the need to stop him from
man-handling Diana, but I know I must tread carefully. I don’t want to make any of this worse for her or lose a longtime friendship, when Vlad is well within his rights to be pissed right now.

  “Loved him. You loved him, Diana. But you can’t love him now because he’s dead. Now, collect your shit and get the fuck out of my house,” he roars. He slams the door, leaving her to pack her things. The relief that he’s left her alone to pack has my shoulders sagging.

  Her sobs ricochet off the walls on the other side of the door. I want to go to her, but Irina and I both are looking down at Anton swinging, her in shock and me wondering how annoying it’s going to be to clean up that mess. Not just in the literal sense either. There’re at least three hundred people in attendance at this shindig tonight.

  Dinner and a show?

  Never a dull moment when Vika’s involved, and she must have already informed Vlad before she teased me with her intel.

  I wonder where the little tricky, chaotic viper is now. More than likely celebrating her victory. She’s always been jealous of Diana.

  Another pained sob resounds through the door, dragging my attention from Anton’s body. Maybe Vlad did something to her and then closed her inside so we can’t see her bleeding out.

  Thud.

  “Did you hurt her?” I demand, glancing toward Diana’s door, all calm and resolve fleeing at the thought of her in pain.

  His nostrils flare and his amber eyes seem to glow with fury.

  “Are you also fucking her?” he barks, shoving me.

  Fuck this little asshole.

  I swing a punch, and it hits him in the jaw. His head snaps to the side, and the crazy fucker laughs. He spits out blood and hisses, “What a mistake that was, drug.” Friend.

  He rams into me with a shoulder to my chest. We scuffle, slamming into walls and knocking pictures to the floor. A punch to his face, a punch to mine.

  “Stop it! Stop it, Vlad, goddamn you!” Irina screams, trying to pry us apart. But she may as well be a million miles away shouting into the abyss. Vlad has left the building, and the animal that resides inside him has taken the steering wheel. I’ll take his brutality and dish it right back to him. Let him wear himself out and get rid of this aggression so he may spare Diana any more of it.

  I manage to force him away from me with a hard shove, and he falls backwards, straight into little Irina. Her eyes widen as he collides into her, and her legs give out. Fuck. I lurch forward as he swings around. But she falls back, away from us both. He reaches around to grab at her, but grasps nothing but air.

  The soft thuds as she topples down the stairs stop my heart.

  Vlad and I both charge to her aid, but she’s at the bottom before we can get to her, landing in the puddle of blood and guts left by Anton.

  Yuri Vasiliev and Vas Volkov are standing at the bottom of the stairs glaring at Vlad.

  Before he can reach her, Irina’s brother, Vas, scoops her up into his arms. She stirs and flutters her eyes open. Blood coats her skin and soaks her dress. Her eyes are pained.

  Dammit! Why did I have to get involved?

  Because it’s Diana.

  “I’m okay,” Irina mutters, attempting to push from his hold, but she’s too weak. “I’m okay.” Vas’s grip tightens, and he steps away from the bloody mess with his sister in his arms.

  I need to get away.

  Now.

  Before I do something really stupid.

  Back to the house to formulate a plan. A big fucking plan. Vlad isn’t going to take lightly to this, and I’ll be damned if I let him shame and destroy Diana to sate his bruised ego.

  She’s been our friend since we were kids for fuck’s sake.

  Without another word to Vlad or anyone, I bolt out the front door, a man on a mission.

  As I pull into our drive, my father comes from the house, his flavor of the month on his arm. She’s sporting a split lip, but he doesn’t appear to care that his date for the night shows signs of his heavy-handed treatment.

  His brow furrows when I exit the car and march toward him.

  “We were just leaving. Is it over already?” he grunts.

  “Yes,” I bark.

  I leave him to follow me for once and move through the house like a hurricane passing through. I push into his office and head straight for his bar, pouring myself a glass of his expensive whiskey. He’s a bourbon drinker, and it makes a nice change when I need to cleanse my palette. My knuckles smart from the rough and tumble with Vlad, and I actually enjoy the sting. Adrenaline still hums under my skin, keeping my heart beating rapidly. Thoughts of Diana race through my mind, and I can’t help but feel a deep need to protect her. Her indiscretions with Anton are unfortunate. Disappointing isn’t a strong enough word, but to condemn her for them is unfair. She wasn’t even given a chance to explain her actions.

  “Veniamin,” my father barks when entering his office. “What the hell is going on?”

  Before I have a chance to answer him, Ruslan and Vika return from the party. They must have left the same time I did. Vika’s sickly smirk makes my hand twitch. Maybe killing a Vasiliev isn’t a bad idea after all.

  “The shit hit the fan,” Vika croons, walking over to where I’m standing and pouring two glasses of whiskey before sashaying over to my father and handing him one. He doesn’t pay her any attention apart from taking the drink like she’s not even in the room. She slinks past Ruslan and keeps the second glass for herself. Little witch.

  “Did you tell him?” I demand of her.

  Pursing her lips, she rolls her eyes. “No, and I don’t know why you had to get involved. It doesn’t look good, and my brother isn’t one to be crossed. Trust me, the price is high,” she retorts, sending a glare in Ruslan’s direction.

  Poor idiot.

  He actually thought he was getting a bride. Instead, he’s getting a whole load of trouble, and inevitably, heartbreak.

  “Somebody better tell me what the hell happened—and now,” Father growls, moving to his desk and sitting behind it, a king on his throne.

  “Diana and Vlad’s engagement is off,” Ruslan informs him. A snort from Vika gains my father’s attention.

  “Are you going to keep insulting us, woman, or elaborate on what no one is confessing to?” He slams a palm on his desk and his glass topples to the floor with a clank, amber liquid spilling over the hardwood.

  He clicks his fingers toward Vika, a gesture for her to clean up the mess. It causes her face to heat and her eyes to burn with rage. I smile at this.

  Know your place, little witch.

  She storms out of the room, and like a well-trained dog, Ruslan follows after her.

  I pour my father another drink and walk over to place it on his desk. His eyes scan over the bruises sprouting over my flesh from Vlad’s right hook. I taught that sonofabitch too well.

  “Diana and Vlad have had a falling out over some rumors that she was unfaithful,” I state, bringing my own glass to my lips and pouring the burning frenzy down my gullet.

  “And do you want to tell me why you look like a punching bag?” he rumbles.

  I grin at him so he knows it’s nothing to worry about. His business relations mean more to him than anything else, including his sons, so if he thinks there’s a chance Vlad and my grappling could be serious, he will morph into the demonic entity we all know sits beneath the power suit.

  Before I can say anything else, some clattering echoes through the house, followed by gunfire. As it gets closer to where we are, I hear her. Diana. Her panicked voice sets off a tremor in my trigger finger.

  “Please,” Diana begs. “Don’t bring me here, Vlad.”

  I hear her words before she comes into view.

  Vlad appears through the entrance of my father’s office. The fury pouring from him in waves is almost visible. The atmosphere shifts and thickens. He drags Diana into the space in front of my father’s desk. My gun was in my hand in a heartbeat and aimed at him as soon as he entered. Vika and Rus slip in behin
d him and sidle up next to our father. Vika’s here for the show, and Ruslan because it’s his duty to stand as a united front with the Vetrov name.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I demand, my temper flaring with the mistreatment of Diana.

  “You already have one cunt going to wear the Vetrov last name. What’s one more? You seem to be pretty into her, Veniamin,” he bellows, his normal control vacating from the host who usually inhabits his body.

  This version of Vlad is fucking crazy and scares the shit out of people.

  This is The V Games Vladimir.

  Formidable. Vindictive. Deadly.

  I step forward, but falter when he tosses Diana hard into me. I catch the weight of her body to prevent her hitting the floor. Her hands grasp onto my arms, and her body folds into mine for support. Her entire frame vibrates in my hold. Vlad pulls out the vicious knife still stained with Anton’s blood and begins using it to tear apart a bag he brought in with Diana.

  “Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” Vika snorts at Diana. I almost deposit Diana on the couch so I can go over and wring Vika’s neck, but the sound of the back of my father’s hand hitting her across the cheek resonates around the room. She drops to the floor like a sack of potatoes. He’s struck her in front of her brother as a show of force and strength. Vlad’s not the only alpha in the room. There are three of us, and not one would back down to the other. I’m not taking my eyes off him for one goddamn second.

  “You’re a fucking asshole,” I snap at him, hugging Diana to me. She quakes and cries, and it makes me want to cocoon her in my embrace and never let her go.

  “Begin training her,” Vlad growls as he shreds her shit, threads of her clothing dropping to the floor. “Father wants a Volkov to prove their name in The Games. I think she’s earned that honor,” he snaps, tossing the bag to the floor and glaring at Diana one last time. He leaves her with his parting words. “Have fun in hell.”

  Silence.

  Diana pulls from my grip and drops to her knees, collecting up the remnants of her clothes.

  I bend to help her and hear a snarl from my father. “Veniamin. Get to your feet. Vika, help Diana.”