Page 47 of Viparious

Everything that doesn’t belong to me.

Rather than voice the truth, I settle for the alternative.

“My own life, the paperwork is ready for you to sign. It’s postdated for six weeks after my due date.”

He nods once, still not looking at me, so I sneak a look, staring out the corner of my eye.He’s blankly staring at a spot on the wall. It’s like his body has been frozen and all he can do is blink. Taking a controlled breath, the same monotonous tone leaves him.

“Anything else?”

My scoff works through my answer, “I’d ask for the truth, but you won’t give it, so we’ll settle on getting away from you.”

There’s a pain in my chest despite the words coming from me. It’s a physical slice through my heart when he nods once and clenches his jaw.

There’s nothing else exchanged and I go to leave. Making it one step, the organ behind my ribs ruptures with his agreement.

“I’ll give you the old house. Your life is in New York.”

He couldn’t even entertain the idea of honesty or an apology. It’s just easy acceptance, showing how little I’m worth.I turn, refusing to allow him to have control of anything in my life.

“My life is wherever I decide. I am not your fucking wife, so your input isn’t required.”

He whirls on me faster than I can anticipate, and I stumble back at the anger in his voice.

“You are under my protection.”

My shoulder takes the brunt of the force as it collides into the doorframe and the anger increases as his brows slam together.

“You think I would hurt you. That I’d put my hands on my wife.”

It’s not a question and I stand taller, resisting the urge to rub the pain in my chest or shoulder away.

“I would have to care about you in order to allow you to hurt me. You hold no importance to me or power over me. Refrain from calling me your wife when we both know the word, nor the marriage, hold little significance to either one of us.”

He has become nothing, a stranger who isn’t entitled to have me speak to him with any warmth or personality. I laugh to myself and shake my head because it finally hits me — I was always the whore because my body has been bartered like in a business agreement in exchange for his power. There was never going to be a different outcome for me. If I have a daughter, I’m taking her away from these fucking cunts so she can never be a commodity or a pawn in their games. She will grow up happy and without any sense of obligation. She will marry who she wants and have a child because she wants to. If I have a son, he’s never joining these fucking merciless men and his hands will remain free of any ink.

Vlad doesn’t attempt to stop me as I leave the room and go to find clothes. He remains standing there, staring at my back, and I can’t be locked in with him, so I grab the robe and cover myself before I leave the room. Viktor must be sleeping on this floor because his door cracks open as soon as I enter the hallway. He has a crease on his cheek, and he rubs the sleep out of his eyes with his fist. He always wakes up early and he usually checks on me first thing. It’s no different now as he sleepily smiles up at me and his voice shows he’s still tired.

“You’re supposed to be resting.”

He has more care and maturity than his uncle and steps out to come to my side and hug himself to my side.

He doesn’t talk as we go to the kitchen, and Vitali sits there scrubbing a hand down his face. The sun is only rising, and he never wakes up early unless there’s somewhere he needs to be. He gives me a tight-lipped smile and Viktor is fully awake once we sit down.

“Did you think about any names? I think you should call the baby Viktor.”

Tali moves closer and wraps his arm around my shoulder before kissing my head and allowing me to be silent.

“You’ve got to think about girl’s names too, and there’s already one Viktor Vartanov.”

The ache behind my ribs intensifies as he innocently argues back, “No, I’m ViktorValentinovichVartanov. The new baby would be ViktorVladislavovichVartanov, and we can call him Vityenka because only Dima calls me that, but I’ll tell him to stop.”

I’m an emotional mess and I kiss his forehead. The emotion bleeds into my tone as I hug him tighter.

“You’re a very sweet boy, but we’ll keep thinking about names because I think there are too many V’s in your family already.”

Dress shoes tap against the floor, and I blow out a breath as Vitali sits taller, silently coming to my defense. I expect Viktor to run off and greet his favorite uncle, but he does the same.

FOURTEEN

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