Page 77 of Viparious

“I won’t stop you seeing her, but if you doanythingto hurt that little girl, I will kill you. I won’t give a fuck about what will happen to me. Decide whether you’re in her life or out of it, Vlad.”

My parents always kept the door open for when my presence would benefit them. A last resort to occupy their time when there was no fun adventure, Vlad won’t be allowed the opportunity to do the same. He doesn’t say anything, turning fucking mute when his stupid brain always has something to say. Anger comes back at the mannequin in front of me and I look him up and down for proof he’s a person.

“Have you even held her?” I ask, already knowing the answer will be no.

He doesn’t answer and I move further away from the bedroom as disgust contorts my features and sticks to my words.

“Do you even fucking care?”

Refusing to act like a normal human being in a conversation, he takes a step back and ignores my questions.

“Send me the listing of whatever house you choose. If you can’t find one, go through our portfolio and I’ll transfer it into your name.”

I grab his arm so he can’t walk away from me again. His face is set in hard lines as I repeat myself. “I asked you a question. Don’t you fucking dare walk away from me.”

His nostrils flare when he doesn’t have the right to be angry. His hand comes up, wrapping around my neck, but he doesn’t squeeze as he walks me backwards, and the rough tone comforts me.

“What the fuck do you want from me? You wanted to fucking leave, and I let you. You want to leave again, and I’m fucking giving you it.” My back touches the wall and he leans down, filling my vision. The world drops away as he strokes my cheek with his knuckles and whispers his confession. “I care too much, there’s your answer. More than I should, and I’ll take the pain so you two don’t have to.” Pressing his lips to my forehead, he says the same bullshit excuse as always. “You deserve better, meelaya.”

Pushing against his chest, my hiss is full of disappointment.

“So be fucking better, you coward.”

Hiding behind the excuse is bullshit and he knows it. You don’t say you care, and someone deserves better because if you really did, you’d put in the fucking work. He would become the better option, not just fucking release me into the wild like he’s fucking fishing.

His fingers flex, squeezing the sides of my neck, and he bites out, “I can’t. This is the best version I will ever be.”

Bullshit. I watched him kill his father. I saw how much hurt was inside of him. He has the capacity to feel, to be different, all he has to do is give that to his own daughter. Not me. I’ll happily move on with my life without him in it. I don’t give a fuck about him anymore. Or I won’t once I manage to convince myself. But he doesn’t get to walk away from his own child without consequences. My disgust increases and I meet his eyes, seeing nothing worthwhile for the man he’s turning into.

“Fuck you. You’re a coward. Just like your fucking father, both of you gave big speeches about not being weak because deep down you’re insecure little bitches, and you know that is exactly what you are.”

He takes a deep breath and slowly blinks. The cruelty is back, more intense than ever, lashing against my skin as he looks me up and down. Taking a step closer to me, he tilts my head up, so he’s looking down at me and snarls, “Did you think me fucking you meant I’d want to keep you?”

My hand comes up at the venom in his tone. There’s enough time for him to catch my wrist but he doesn’t. He takes the slap, keeping his face in position to feel the full impact, but my anger doesn’t allow remorse to sink in. It steels my spine instead as I peel his fingers off my neck.

“You’re right, it’s better for us both if you stay the fuck away. My daughter doesn’t need you as any kind of example of what a man is.”

Dickhead Vlad is back, and he laughs. It’s horrible and menacing as he pushes closer to my body and keeps his hand around my neck to continue lashing me verbally.

“Is that why you built up the fantasy? Your father kept leaving you wherever he could, and you knew I didn’t want you. Your daddy issues came out and you thought I’d fix them for you?”

His hand isn’t balled into a fist, and I want him to hurt, I want him to be writhing in fucking pain while I walk away this time. But he stops me speaking, and the cruelty intensifies as he says, “You didn’t deserve the little I gave you.”

I lean into his palm to get closer to his face. He loosens his hold, proving he’s a lying fucking prick as I spit, “At least my father didn’t kill the love of my life.”

He rocks back like I’ve punched him with a ton of force and his face drops.I haven’t had any confirmation on who Vanya is, but she meant enough to Vlad for him to obliterate his father for the crime of killing her. And she was significant enough in his life for Len to see her as a threat. Given everything else his parents have done and managed to survive, that alone proves how deeply he held her. A twisted smile lifts his lips, and pain fills his eyes as he takes a controlled breath, ready to continue hurting each other. But he doesn’t insult me or twist a knife in my back. He shows his pain in a whisper, “I hope you never experience the same, meelaya.”

There’s no satisfaction as he lets me go and walks away. I’ve accomplished what I wanted. I’ve hurt him, but why does it hurt me at the same time?

His steps are slow as though there are demons on his back weighing him down as he walks to the elevator. He doesn’t press the button and stands numb to the spot. The glass panel shows a muted reflection of the pain on his features, which guts me further.

The human part of him pulls me closer. It’s so visceral and raw as though he’s shutting down and tears spring to my eyes. I can’t process anything other than watching the man who literally terrifies everyone break and wrap my arms around him from behind. I must be moving faster than I thought because he rocks forwards from the force as I wrap both arms around him with my cheek pressed to the center of his back. I can’t see his face in this position, and he doesn’t pick his hands up. His heart is beating slower, like it’s slowly withering away, and I squeeze him tighter to get the organ to work correctly.

His voice is cold and robotic as he speaks to me as though I’m a stranger.

“Take your hands off me, Inessa.” I flinch as he barks out. “Now!”

A cry pierces the air, and I abruptly let go. My body aches as I run away, and the bedroom door slams from the force of me closing it. There’s a lock on the door, and I slide it across before going to the crib and picking up my baby. Verena kicks her feet in the swaddle, and I hug her to my chest as I hold the back of her head. Tears fill my voice as I stare at the door in fear and softly rock her side to side.

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