Chapter 16 Yulian
YULIAN
PRESENT
Sixteen days, four hours, and twenty minutes.
Is this starting to seem like a pattern? Some would say an obsession—some being Cy—but you know, if it looks like it, feels like it, and the shoe fits…
Seriously, though, my counting habits are getting out of hand because of another major fucking problem.
I suppress a groan as I wave at Kevin, who’s leaving the room. He tried his best, but I’m just not feeling it, and that’s a serious anomaly because I am a sexual being.
Violence and sex are what I’m good at, sometimes not in that order.
So the fact that I haven’t been in the fucking mood since that night in the Heathens’ forest is an issue.
A catastrophe, so to speak.
My dick hasn’t been put to use, and I’m afraid it’ll fall off.
Okay, just kidding; it was put to use, but only by my hand as I was picturing harsh lips, soft breaths, and uncontrollable trembling.
And that’s even more of an anomaly.
I’ll be the first to admit that I prefer boys like Kevin, who love dressing in the cutest panties and spreading their asses for me.
Maybe it’s because the idea of dominating them ignites a feral feeling inside me, or maybe because they’re both beautiful and adorable and love my twisted sense of humor—yeah, I know I’m an acquired taste.
In short, I have a type, and it’s the same in men and women—soft skin, delicate features, and a submissive streak.
That’s who I go for.
That’s who I get hard for.
So why the fuck can’t I stop picturing the one guy who has none of the above?
Vaughn is neither soft nor pliant. He’s all muscular with masculine traits and sharp edges I’ll totally cut myself on if I’m not careful enough. He’s definitely not submissive and actually fights for dominance.
The memory of him flipping us so he’d be on top sends a throb down my spine and straight into my cock—the same cock that was dormant in Kevin’s presence seconds ago.
I grunt. “This fucking sucks. Go away.”
“Are you talking to your demon again?” Cy strolls into my changing room at the underground ring, throwing me his usual side-eye. The roar of the crowd dulls to a hum as the door slams shut.
I knock my bandaged fists together, then punch the air. “Nah, just talking to my alter ego, aka my dick.”
“So demon number one.” He sprawls out on the beat-up faux leather couch, crossing one leg over the other. “Demon number two, your fists, shouldn’t be used for the second night in a row to fight, Yulian.”
“Nonsense. The whole point of fists is to fight.”
“Your bruises from yesterday and the day before and the day before that aren’t healed yet. What’s with fighting almost every day lately?”
I hit the air harder. “Tension.”
“Get laid, then.”
“Well, that’s the fucking issue, Cy. I can’t.” I stop punching and swing around to face him. “You’re smart, help me get back into my world-record sex life.”
“Being smart doesn’t give me solutions to your fluctuating libido.” He focuses on his phone, narrowing his eyes the slightest bit.
Cy is tall and muscular, though leaner than me—his body’s built more like a swimmer’s, honed from years of swimming at dawn.
Fighting isn’t his thing, but he’ll throw a punch when pushed, and he’s lethal with weapons.
Still, he acts like violence is beneath him, convinced he can get whatever he wants without ever lifting a hand.
While I bulldoze through issues headfirst, he analyzes, contemplates, and then usually comes up with the appropriate solution. I’ve lost count of how many times he’s helped my dad in his strategic endeavors—and saved my ass in the process.
My father trusts Cy completely after he landed him a new shipping deal with the Davenports that kept us front and center of the Bratva branches, at the same level as the Morozovs.
Dad agreed to let me come to this island because Cy was also coming. He even allowed him to pick our guards—whom Cy personally vouched for—and plan our security system.
Let’s say Daddy dearest wishes he had Cy for a son instead of me, having told me so himself after he nearly tortured me to death four years ago.
But that never made me despise Cy. He’s my best—and only—friend. Sad, I know, but people usually don’t like me, whether it’s because of my last name or my personality. Cy, however, has stuck around.
He’s put himself out there and performed so many tasks for my father, so I don’t end up accidentally—or not so accidentally—getting shot dead by my extremely intolerant, impatient, and tyrannical sperm donor.
So really, Cy and Alya are all I have.
I remove my glove and snap my fingers in his face. “Focus, motherfucker. Give me a solution.”
He slowly lifts his head, then flicks my hand away with his thumb and index finger. “I’m not your magic lamp.”
“Nah, you’re way better. I get infinite wishes.” I grin, and he shakes his head, fighting a smile.
“You’re a clown.”
“Your favorite clown. Now, chop-chop, Cy. What do you think I should do to get over this annoying slump?”
“Have more flavor? Though, for the sake of all that’s holy, be more discreet when frolicking with men.
It’s true that I have all the guards in the mansion on our side, so they won’t tattle to your father, but I can’t say the same about the Serpent members.
I have them by the throat with some damning info, but that can change at any time, and your blasé attitude doesn’t help. ”
“I don’t go around fucking men in public.”
“You flirt, Yulian. A lot.”
“Yeah, but I rarely touch the guys. Anyone looking in from the outside will think I have a lot of friends.”
“You don’t.”
“Ha, I do. There’s you.” My shoulders hunch. “Besides, my dick’s not working, you know.”
“Does this have to do with a certain initiation you went to without telling me beforehand?”
My lips part.
So, I totally did not tell Cy about kissing the fuck out of Vaughn’s lips, sucking the blood off them, and not being able to get enough no matter how long I devoured them.
Needless to say, he knows nothing about my attempt to extract Vaughn’s soul through his dick or that I was definitely the first guy he let do it.
I totally did not mention that it was the best handjob I’ve ever performed or how many times I’ve dreamt about Vaughn’s lust-filled noises in my ear.
I just said there was an altercation during the initiation, which isn’t a lie if you think about it.
“It doesn’t take a genius to notice the change. You’ve had a fluctuation in libido and have become more prone to violence since then,” Cy says. “Will you tell me what the altercation with Vaughn was?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“You’ll just bitch and nag.” And for some reason, I don’t want to disclose intimate details, even if it’s to Cy.
Strange alert, by the way. I usually tell him all the fucking details, the small and the big, including rating my orgasms and the hookup from one to ten.
Not sure why I don’t want him or anyone to find out about what Vaughn and I do in the dark. Did in the dark.
Once.
Here’s to praying it becomes a habit. Amen.
“As I should.” He sighs like an old man who’s three times divorced. “Seriously, he’s bad news, Yulian.”
“I know.” I grin.
“He outwits you.”
“Hey!” I kick him. “Are you calling me stupid?”
“You’re not stupid, but he has more intellectual range than you. Where you go with your gut, he follows logic, and that puts you at a disadvantage when facing him.”
“Then I guess we’ll see who wins. My instinct or his boring brain.”
He stands up, a frown appearing between his brows.
“Yulian. This isn’t the time to play around.
Your brothers are waiting for one misstep to take your place, and your father might be opposed to it now, but if you humiliate him—and as much as I hate it, you being found with a man will humiliate him—he’ll neutralize you, put one of them at the top, and marry off your sister to the highest bidder.
And that highest bidder might abuse her. ”
Fuck this shit. He’s just repeating Mom’s words now.
A searing pain explodes in my chest at her memory.
The last memory.
Because she asked me to end it, and I didn’t. I let the obsession take over and abandoned her in her last moments.
“I’ll admit that Vaughn is also playing a dangerous game by baiting you,” Cy continues.
“But he’ll snap out of it—his kind always does—and then you’ll be the one who’s hurt.
Again. You’ll be the one paying the price.
Again. When push comes to shove, he’ll throw you under the bus.
Just like he left you to rot and die in that cave four years ago. ”
I swallow, but it gets stuck somewhere at the back of my throat.
Right.
I started this whole thing so I could mess with Vaughn’s equilibrium.
Smash his attitude, ruin his life. I intended to make him lose the love of his life, then give him no other option than to move, so then I could sabotage everything else—his studies, his friend group, anything and everything I could destroy.
Revenge.
That’s what I told myself when I picked up the obsession where I left off, but I don’t seem to be thinking about that when I fixate on his replies to my videos.
He only texts once in a while to tell me either that I’m annoying, or that I shouldn’t test him, or that I’m asking for it.
Maybe I am.
You’re still texting me. I gloat, laughing like a maniac every time I see the blue ticks indicating that he’s seeing everything I send him.
Every single thing.
Revenge.
Yeah, right. I just want to fuck him.
And truly, that will be my ultimate revenge, because the idea of Vaughn losing all his precious control over me is making my dick throb.
Yeah, it’s totally for revenge.
When have I even thought about that lately?
Cy’s about to keep poking around, but I slip out of his grip. “Gotta go fight. Bet lots of money on me!”