My Russian Stepbrothers Read online

  He offered her one of the untouched glasses of beer on the table. “Do innocent girls like you drink?”

  He was obviously baiting her, and she couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “Stop it.” Even so, Seri felt she was being childishly rebellious as she reached for the glass he offered. Just a few sips, she told herself, and that was it.

  She started to reach for the drink, but before she could, long, graceful fingers had wrapped around her wrist, and then a familiar accented voice said from behind, “I don’t think so, solnishka moya.”

  Seri gulped.

  Eto prosto pizdets.

  In English, she was totally fucked.

  Chapter Four

  “DATE RAPE!” The veins on her stepfather’s neck looked like they were about to pop out any moment. But what was more terrifying was the look of rage on his face. She had never seen him this angry.

  Never.

  But the worst thing was, Seri knew she deserved it.

  If not for Vassi’s timely arrival, she had been almost been a victim of date rape.

  Date rape.

  Even now, she was still in a state of shock, a part of her unable to believe that something like it could have happened to her. The events of the past two hours were crystal clear in her mind—-

  Vassi’s bodyguards breaking up the party in one go.

  Finn trying to escape but Vassi’s fist knocking him out cold.

  The loud wail of sirens as the police arrived.

  And then the silence, the painful, unbreakable silence as she came face to face with her family in the living room while Vassi told them in a flat, expressionless voice what happened.

  Him suspecting that something was wrong when she couldn’t look him in the eye about sleeping over at Davey’s, Vassi sending his bodyguards to trail after her, and him rushing to the karaoke place the moment his security told him alcohol was being served.

  And now here she was in the study, wishing there was a way she could undo time. It wasn’t so she could avoid getting herself raped. What happened tonight was probably a lesson she needed to learn.

  If she could undo time, it was so Seri could spare her family from the pain and fear she had subjected them to the moment they realized the danger she had unknowingly put herself in.

  People always thought date rape would never happen to them, Seri thought painfully, and either out of arrogance or naiveté, she had been one of those people. She had thought that she would never be a victim of date rape.

  Never...until she realized too late that there were really no guarantees.

  “You are grounded for one month,” Fyodor was telling her between gritted teeth. “Do you understand?”

  Seri gulped. “Yes, Papa.” If he told her to slap herself a hundred times to pay for her sins, she would have. She wished he would, actually. If he did, then maybe she could—-

  Fyodor had turned and started walking away from her.

  “Papa?”

  He didn’t look back, only slamming the door shut behind him.

  Seri inhaled deeply. The urge to cry was harder to resist, but she forced the tears back. This was her punishment, she told herself, for being selfish and stupid.

  Sergei strode in a few moments later, his handsome face looking more austere than usual. The boys had agreed that they would talk to her one at a time, and it was now Sergei’s turn.

  Sergei, who, for the first time in her life, was gazing at Seri without the barest hint of a smile.

  She swallowed. “Sergei—-”

  It was as if the sound of her voice triggered his rage, and he was suddenly shouting at her, speaking too fast in Russian for her to understand everything he was saying.

  Here and there, she would catch a few words she was able to translate, and all of them made her wince.

  That you would lie to us!

  That you would take such a risk!

  That you would forget the number one rule, to never take your eyes off your drink!

  That you—-

  And then Sergei was stalking towards her.

  Her breath locked in her throat.

  Oh no, was Sergei going to hit her?

  He couldn’t, could he?

  He raised his hand.

  Seri whitened.

  Impossible.

  He would never—-

  And then she felt it.

  Sergei pinching her cheeks.

  Hard.

  “Erch.” It was hard to express her pain with her cheeks still twisted between his fingers.

  “You scared the life out of us, do you know?” Sergei raged down at her.

  “Eh ne.” She hoped he understood that.

  The pressure on her cheeks increased. “Never again, promise us that!”

  “Eh brewiz.”

  And then he was walking away, and just like Fyodor, he slammed the door shut behind him, giving Seri not a single chance to explain or say sorry.

  Seri strained to keep her eyes wide open.

  If she blinked now, she would cry, and she did not deserve to cry.

  Misha came in next, and Seri forgot all about crying. Her gaze was drawn to the awful sight of his bloodied fists, with the skin on his knuckles looking like it had been ripped out. “Misha! What happened?” She rushed towards him, but before she could reach for his hands, Misha shook his head.

  “Stop.”

  She froze.

  That was...not the gentle Misha she knew.

  Her gaze slowly moved back to his fists, and it was like a light bulb switching on inside her head.

  Those fists...

  Didn’t they look like they had been worn off after beating someone to an inch of his life?

  Seri paled as soon as the thought occurred. She knew, she just knew that was what had happened. Misha might be the gentlest among her boys, but he had also the most violent temper when provoked.

  This time, the urge to cry was agonizingly difficult to resist, but Seri still found the strength to hold back her sobs.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Misha’s lips twisted in an unusually cruel expression. “You should be.” He looked down at his fists. “I wanted to kill him.”

  Seri flinched. “Misha—-”

  He cut her off, asking, “Do you know what would happen if he had gotten you to drink it?” His voice was coldly smooth, like the icy surface of a blade, and every word he uttered was like a stab to her heart.

  It hurt, more because she knew that her brother’s pain was greater.

  “Do you, little dove?” Misha’s tone was pleasant, but his gaze was bleak.

  “N-no.” She bit her lip hard. Don’t cry, Seri. Don’t you dare cry.

  “How nice for you that you don’t,” Misha commented as he perched himself on the edge of Fyodor’s desk. “Unfortunately for me, I do. The sample of your drink revealed that Mr. Mitchell had made use of GHB, a date rape drug that can take effect in just fifteen minutes.”

  “Misha, I’m—-”

  “Just the smallest amount can render you unconscious, and the effects could last for as long as four hours. A man could do a lot of things to a girl with that amount of time.” Misha’s gaze pierced her. “But you know the worst thing about GHB? The potential to overdose, which could lead to death.”

  Getting off Fyodor’s desk, he crouched down in front of her.

  Oh no, he was going to cry.

  Misha took hold of her hands.

  Oh no, I can’t take this.

  And then Misha was shouting at her face, “ NEVER LIE ABOUT GOING OUT ON A DATE AGAIN! DO YOU HEAR ME?”

  Her ears were ringing by the time he finished.

  Yes, she had definitely heard him, but after that, she was unlikely to hear anything after it.

  By the time her ears started working again, Misha was gone, and...the door stayed closed.

  She waited, her nerves stretched close to its breaking point.

  But the door remained closed.

  Her gaze strayed to the clock on the
wall, and she realized numbly that she had been waiting for almost thirty minutes.

  Vassi had never made her wait this long.

  Which meant...what?

  He was furious with her, perhaps? Or maybe he was ashamed of her, for being so easy and stupid?

  It was this last thought that had the dam crumbling down, and she was already crying before she could reach the door.

  Head down, Seri rushed out of the room with a sob, intent on licking her wounds in private, only to bump into a hard wall.

  Her head jerked up.

  It was Vassi.

  She had been expecting anger and disgust, and they were both there. Only it wasn’t directed at her but at himself. He blamed himself for what had happened.

  “Idiot!”

  And then she was crying her eyes out.

  Vassi wordlessly lifted her in his arms and she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, sobbing against his chest.

  “You’re going to ruin my shirt with your snot,” Vassi murmured against her hair.

  “Serves you right,” she mumbled. “You’re an idiot for thinking you could have stopped me.” But then she remembered the haunted look in his eyes and she started crying again.

  Vassi opened the door to her bedroom, kicked it shut, and laid her gently on the bed. He tucked her in, and she immediately curled up in a ball under the covers. Squeezing her eyes shut, she prayed for God to stop the tears, but they just kept falling.

  “Sleep, leech.” He had pulled a chair close to the bed, his legs stretched out before him, his gaze on the blank wall opposite him. But even without him looking at her, without him saying a word, she knew her tears were hurting him.

  Never again, she promised God desperately.

  I’ll never risk myself like that ever again, so please God, please help me stop crying.

  I don’t want Vassi to hurt anymore.

  But the tears continued in an endless flood.

  She tried reaching for Vassi’s hand, but it was as if he sensed what she was about to do and without looking her way, he said curtly, “No.”

  “But—-”

  “No.”

  She flinched. When he spoke like that, Seri knew there was no convincing him, and she reluctantly pulled her hand back, hiding it under the cover.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “But it’s not your fault, Vassi. It’s really not.”

  He didn’t answer.

  Time passed.

  Vassi only turned to look at Seri when the sound of her breathing became even.

  He remembered her words.

  It’s not your fault, Vassi.

  It’s really not.

  His lips pressed together.

  Idiotic little sun.

  Of course it was his fault.

  He was to blame because she would not have lied about going to the goukon if not for him.

  If not for her infatuation with him—-

  An infatuation that was his most forbidden pleasure—-

  The thought of it had kept him awake for countless nights, and the knowledge that such feelings existed – even knowing they were wrong – the knowledge that she felt...

  That she felt the same way he did—-

  There were times when it was impossible to resist dreaming of her—-

  Times when her face was all he needed to think of for himself to give himself pleasure in the shower—-

  Vassi’s jaw clenched.

  Forcing himself to leave her side, he stood up and walked to her dresser. A tiny red stone winked at him from the edge, and he reached for it.

  Seri’s favorite hairpin.

  After a moment, Vassi slid the pin inside his pocket.

  A souvenir, for the love he now knew was impossible to deny.

  A souvenir, for the same love that he intended to get rid of, to keep Seri safe...and their family intact.

  Chapter Five

  Two years ago

  Three days ago, Seri would have willingly given up her entire collection of anime if it would mean Vassi returning earlier than scheduled from his six-month modeling gig.

  But now—-

  She covered her ears, pressing her hands on the sides of her face as hard as she could.

  But it was no use.

  Sounds from Vassi’s bedroom next door still reached her, and if she had known this was going to happen, she would rather kick his butt back to France.

  Sure, he was here, and he was even early enough to spend Christmas with the family.

  That was great.

  But he hadn’t come alone, and that was not great.

  “Oh, yes, yes!”

  Instead he had with him a girl he had met at work, an eighteen-year-old sorority blonde whose throaty voice grated on Seri’s nerves.

  “You’re soooo good!”

  Vassi had introduced her simply as Shelby. Not as his girlfriend, but then what else could Shelby be? Vassi had never brought a girl home before.

  “More, God, more!”

  Shelby had been panting for forty-five minutes now, making Seri wonder with uncharacteristic nastiness if the older girl needed to exercise more.

  They were just having sex, she thought coldly. It wasn’t like they were running a marathon or something.

  “Yes. Like that. Harder! Harder! Harder!”

  Seri shook with anger.

  “HARDER!”

  She snatched a pillow from her bed and gripped it as tightly as she could as she started pacing her bedroom.

  “Oh my God, so hard——”

  Seri sank her teeth into the pillow like a rabid dog.

  “Your cock is so—-”

  Seri bit hard on the pillow with a muffled snarl.

  “HAAAAAAARDER—-”

  Piz ‘da.

  She threw the pillow across the room. If Shelby wanted it so hard, maybe Seri should do her a favor and snatch Vassi out of her nymphomaniac claws to give her a baseball bat. It couldn’t get any harder than that, could it?

  The thought was pleasurable, and she allowed herself a moment to fantasize—-

  But then she heard another sound, lower, heavier, earthlier, drowning out Shelby’s irritating panting.

  Seri whitened.

  It was Vassi.

  Growling.

  But not out of anger.

  No, there could only be one reason for him to sound like that.

  Seri snatched the phone off her bedside table and locked herself in the bathroom. She dialed Davey’s number with shaking fingers. “Get me out of here, Davey. Please.”

  In thirty minutes, Davey was in her living room, and Seri had her overnight bag ready with her. Before he could say one word, she hissed under her breath, “We’ll talk later. But I haven’t lied this time, and Misha’s even the one driving us to your place.”

  He closed his mouth. That was all he was concerned about really. As long as Seri could ensure that he would leave the Grachyov mansion with his head still connected to his neck, everything else could wait.

  Seri kept a steady flow of conversation inside the car, pretending all the while she didn’t notice the way Davey and Misha were constantly giving her odd looks. She wasn’t exactly the most talkative person in the world, and yet here she was, acting like having her own talk show was her greatest dream.

  When they got to Davey’s apartment, Misha insisted on walking her to the front door.

  “You’re certain you need to stay here?”

  She nodded. “I’m too mad at Vassi right now.” She had thought about this carefully and decided that sticking to the truth was her safest bet. “He promised he’d take me to the Japanese cinema festival when he came home but he’s obviously busy with...other things.” She couldn’t stop her lip curling at the last word.

  Misha said slowly, “Would you rather not talk—-”

  She glared at him.

  “Well, take care then,” he said instead. He hesitated a moment before ruffling her hair. “Call me when you need to talk, da?”

  S
he nodded and gave her brother a quick hug. “Thanks for driving me here.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Anything for you, little dove.”

  He stepped back.

  His gaze went to Davey’s.

  Davey’s knees quivered, half out of terror, half out of love.

  Oh, these Grachyov brothers.

  They were just too hot for normal people like Davey to handle.

  He knew that Misha was seriously contemplating whether it would be more economical to threaten the shit out of him and ensure his beloved sister’s safety, but even so—-

  It still felt so nice to have one of the Grachyov brothers looking at him and just him.

  Misha was smiling politely now.

  Yup, Davey thought, having recognized the look. The middle brother was definitely going to threaten him.

  “Davey?”

  “Yes, Misha?”

  “You will look after my sister, won’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good.” His smile widened. “Because if you don’t...” Misha’s voice became dangerously soft, and his Russian accent thickened as he promised, “I will break every bone in your body.” He took hold of Davey’s shoulder. “Eto panyatno?”

  Seri’s eyes widened when Davey suddenly winced. Her gaze flew to where Misha was holding him, and she realized that he was squeezing her friend a bit too hard.

  “Umm, Misha—-”

  But Misha shook his head, and his gaze remained on Davey as he asked, “Vy menya panimayete?” Do you understand me?

  Davey let out a strangled cry that sounded like a weird mix of pain and pleasure.

  “Prastite, chto vy skazali?”

  Unable to bear it, Seri cried out, “Stop it, Misha! You know Davey doesn’t speak Russian!”

  Misha released his hold on Davey’s shoulder.

  She started to apologize to Davey, but her jaw dropped when she saw her friend gazing at her brother with stars in her eyes. What? She looked at Misha, who was smiling angelically, and then back at Davey, who was now promising her brother fervently he would guard Seri with his life.

  Misha nodded with obvious satisfaction. “That’s what I want to hear.”

  Okaaaaay. Seri felt like she was missing something. Davey should be calling for 911 now, but instead he was still looking at her brother like he had given Davey the Miss Universe crown.