The Counterfeit Lover (War of Sins Book 3)
The Counterfeit Lover: Chapter 8

Andreas had taken his job seriously and within a week, he’d managed to get Michele video and audio feed of the Kuznetsov house.

It had taken him some…cunning to do it, but he would have done much more for his boss. Especially since this development was something he’d been waiting for a long time.

Yet Andreas couldn’t deny that luck had played a big part in the success of his mission. Vlad and his wife were rarely at home these days, always busy with their new academy and gallivanting around the world on their missions.

And so, after a busy day at work, Michele had the pleasant surprise to replace his previously bare bedroom wall now filled with screens, all showing different parts of Kuznetsov’s house.

Right in the middle, the biggest screen was focused on his pet’s bedroom.

Michele smiled to himself, and upon seeing she wasn’t yet at home, he decided to take a quick shower and get himself more comfortable for a late night marathon.

As he exited his shower, he noticed the door ajar, a fluff of black hair peeking through. Closing the door, he picked up the little trespasser, cuddling him in his arms as he made himself comfortable on the bed.

Lovely looked up at him with those big, innocent eyes of his—not unlike those of his pet. For a second he found himself lost in them, thrust back in the past. But he quickly shrugged that off, bringing his hand to Lovely’s head and petting him lightly, absentmindedly.

Instead, he concentrated on the video footage before him as his pet strutted to her room after dinner.

Immediately, his attention was wholly on her, his eyes eating her up greedily. It hadn’t been that long since he’d last seen her, but to him it felt like an eternity as he perused her body, feeling his own stir with an echo of lust.

She was wearing a baggy dress that showed nothing of her curves. Even so, the sight of her alone was enough to send a jolt to his cock.

He’d last seen her a couple of days past at her graduation, but that had been from afar. Even so, it had been well worth it since he’d been able to witness all her teachers making fools of themselves as they’d done their best to apologize, all ending with a bang—literally—as her principal’s knees had hit the floor when he’d proceeded to prostate himself to her feet.

Mr. Landers had taken his advice to heart and he’d publicly humiliated himself and elevated his pet, naming her a victim in the whole debacle and offering an apology to her from the behalf of the entire school for not being able to protect her.

His pet had been flabbergasted. Even from afar, Michele had noted the way she’d stiffened with shock—almost as if she couldn’t believe that someone would ever take her side.

But he’d noted later, when he’d managed to get a little closer to her, that she’d been brought to tears by the display, thanking Vlad and Sisi for their involvement though it had not been them.

Michele had been annoyed that others should take credit for his work, especially since he should be the one getting the appreciative hugs and kisses. It had taken everything within him not to reveal himself and proclaim loud and clear that it had been his hand that had cut Mr. Lander’s finger and fed it to him, forcing him to make his pet the star of the graduation. It had been Michele who’d defended her honor. So what if he’d been the one to sully it in the first place? He’d made reparations and it had been the hardest thing ever to sit by while others claimed the honors.

Soon.

Soon, she would know all about it just as she would know that there was no way out. He’d claim her and take her as his pet once more.

But he couldn’t be too rash about it—especially since she was technically Kuznetsov’s protégé.

No, he was going to bide his time—just as he always did.

He would wait and when he finally got her, he would let himself enjoy her to the fullest—as he should have done from the beginning.

In the meantime, he had the video surveillance to feed his hunger for her. And as he focused his attention on her, he noted her appearance.

Her hair was tied in a ponytail at her back, her cheeks flushed as she locked herself in her room, resting with her back against the surface of the door for a moment as she regained her breath.

She looked healthy. Glowing even.

His lip twitched in displeasure.

It hadn’t been that long and she’d already forgotten him, hadn’t she?

‘Woof,’ Lovely barked lightly as he sought to make himself more comfortable in Michele’s arms.

‘You like her, too, don’t you?’ Michele asked, still petting the dog while his eyes were riveted to the woman in front of him.

Especially as she crossed the room to enter her bathroom, shrugging the dress off her body to reveal a modest set of white underwear and a bra.

Michele clenched his teeth at the surge of pure want that she triggered within him.

What was it about her?

For the thousand time since he’d started seeing her, he had to wonder what it was about her that made him react so strongly when he’d never reacted to another—ever at all.

He’d never known lust before. He’d never known what it was like to have his body react to another—to have his body at the mercy of another in that way.

From a young age, he’d been disinterested in anything of a sexual nature. Then, after what had happened with Antonio and the boys at his school, he’d shunned all human touch, disgust rolling in his stomach at the thought of having another’s sweaty hands on his skin.

And for years, he’d lived within his self-imposed boundaries.

Only after he’d started pursuing his pet had he seen a change in his views, inclinations and desires. It was almost like his libido had been dormant his entire life and upon meeting her it had resurrected. And when it had, he’d become insatiable—but only for her.

She alone owned his cock. And he hated anyone having any type of control over him.

That had been one of the reasons why he’d sought to push her away when he’d felt himself slipping—becoming too dependent on her.

But, as he’d recently realized, she could own him only if he let her. And he wasn’t about to do that.

No, he would retain all the control.

After all, she was his pet. Nothing else.

She turned to the mirror, gazing apprehensively at her figure and smoothing her hands over her curves.

Michele groaned at the same time as Lovely startled from his arms, giving him a curious look before limping away from his lap and going to the little bed Michele had set up for him.

His lips tugged up at Lovely’s little sighs as he huddled into a ball of fur, closing his eyes to sleep. Yet that was short-lived as his gaze swung back to the screen, blinking at the spectacle before him.

His pet’s unclasped her bra, letting it drop to the floor. Next, her hands were on her tits, touching, squeezing. There was an erotically charged atmosphere as she caressed herself reverently, almost as if she imagined it was a lover’s touch.

He bit his lip in a muffled curse.

Did she know he was watching? Was she putting on a show for him?

But she couldn’t have known—Andreas had done too good of a job.

Yet seeing her intimately like this—touching herself like this—was something he hadn’t expected. Something that shook him in a way he’d thought himself unshakable.

In the past, he’d used her. Seeing as she was the only object of his lust in existence, he’d decided to slake it on her—and often. But it had always been in a rather clinical fashion, the end goal being his release.

Nothing else.

Yet seeing her like this… He enjoyed it though nothing about it involved his physical release. This time it was only his eyes on her body and the pleasure he derived from watching her.

Her hands went lower, to the edge of her underwear as she tugged them down her legs, disposing them before standing fully naked in front of the mirror.

She brought her teeth over her lower lip as she simply watched herself.

Michele watched, too.

She brought her hands to her lower stomach as she caressed the area and he felt a sudden pang in his chest at the thought of what could have been developing in there now.

Their child.

His child.

He swallowed hard, the pain of the past hitting him once more and creating a whirlpool of confusion in his mind. His lungs constricted, his breathing labored as he dared let himself imagine what their child would have looked like.

But every time he tried to do so, he only saw Solomon.

His son, Solomon, as he exited the panic room and asked for his daddy. His son as he took a step towards Michele before a bullet took his life.

A low shiver went down his back as he felt himself slipping—going down that path of no return. And that always happened whenever he thought of Solomon.

Though he professed he had no heart, that non-existent heart broke anew every time he recalled his son’s sweet visage. Blinking away what he would never admit were tears, he shook himself, burying those thoughts deep in his mind and soul—so deep they couldn’t return and haunt him again.

Instead, he focused on his pet. Especially as he watched her dip one hand lower, between her legs. Her brows furrowed as she touched herself, but it didn’t seem to be with pleasure in mind. Rather, she was curiously exploring that part of herself she’d never dared to before.

But it wasn’t for long. Just as she brushed her hand against the hidden part of her sex, she wrenched it back, a flush enveloping her as she reddened from head to toe. With a weary sigh she simply turned and walked into the shower.

Michele didn’t take his eyes off her. Not for one moment. Even those mundane tasks—like washing her hair, scrubbing her body or brushing her teeth—were enticing in a way nothing else was in his life.

He finally felt that thrill that he’d been missing. And it had nothing to do with the fact that he was hard and growing harder by the second. No, anticipation simmered in his blood as he promised himself he would explore her body more at leisure the next time he took her.

He wanted to touch and caress all those hidden curves and all that soft skin. For the first time, he wanted to enjoy the experience, not simply await the end-result.

After she was done with her evening ablutions, she put on a long, colorless nightgown before going to her desk. From a lower drawer, she pulled a little something that she cradled in her palm, touching it almost reverently.

Michele couldn’t see what it was, but his curiosity was piqued, so he made a mental note to inquire into that.

She spent a few moments like that, simply holding the item to her chest before she shook her head as if waking herself from a reverie. Then, she laid herself on the bed, closing her eyes to sleep. And sleep she did, soon curling into a fetal position from which she never stirred.

She remained like that, looking so fucking young and vulnerable he felt his pulse throb in his temple, an ineffable anger bubbling inside of him.

That was it?

It struck him as odd that she wasn’t doing anything a regular teenager would do. She didn’t check her phone, nor did she use her computer. She didn’t text, or scroll on social media. She didn’t even try to watch a movie.

She simply went from point A to point B in an efficient, brisk manner.

He blinked, unsure how to feel at her bare existence.

After that observation, more things jumped into focus—all just as odd as her.

The room was sparse. She had a couple of school books on her desk, but nothing else. There was one open suitcase in the corner that seemed to house all of her items—items she’d never taken out. That suggested she thought her stay there was temporary. Still, as Michele leaned in to peruse some of the contents he noted a few baggy dresses like the one she’d worn before, and a couple pairs of shoes.

He didn’t know why the sight of her meager belongings made his heart squeeze painfully in his chest. Maybe it was because he remembered his own room at the Guerra house, equally as sparse and unwelcoming. He’d never fit in—anywhere he went. He wagered she felt the same.

A couple of hours trickled by as he simply stared at her form in the darkness of her room. He tracked each rise and fall of her chest, entranced by those minuscule movements as he’d been by Bernini’s depiction of Apollo and Daphne which he’d seen on his first trip abroad. He studied every detail just as he would a work of art, and he was still left wanting.

Soon…

He’d have her again soon.

That thought pleased him immensely, and a smile pulled at his lips. At the same time, another screen flickered to life, the audio icon blipping to indicate speech. Curious, Michele increased the volume, switching his attention to that screen.

His half-sister, Assisi, walked into the room followed by her husband, Vlad.

She was the first to sit down on the couch, patting her lap for Vlad to join her.

And he did.

Michele frowned, squinting to make sense of what he was seeing.

He’d heard all about Vlad Kuznetsov—the one people called the Berserker in hushed tones. He was someone Michele hadn’t wanted to touch since it would have led to time-consuming complications he had no need for.

But what he knew of the man depicted him in a fearsome manner—almost like the devil himself. To see him so relaxed as he laid himself on the couch, placing his head on Assisi’s lap and smiling languidly at her was entirely antithetic to everything he knew of the man.

Michele was…intrigued.

She threaded her hands through his hair, caressing him lovingly.

‘Do you think she went to bed?’ Assisi asked.

Vlad nodded, pursing his lips.

‘She doesn’t do much else beside go to her summer classes and come home to sleep,’ she sighed. ‘I worry about her, Vlad.’

‘I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she’s still smarting from that whole video debacle.’

‘Did you see how her principal apologized?’ she chuckled. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more entertaining.’

Vlad laughed.

‘Maybe you also noticed that the boys who picked on her weren’t there.’

‘That’s true,’ she nodded pensively. ‘And all the teachers treated her so deferentially. I was quite impressed.’

‘Me too,’ Vlad replied, though Michele could see that the man had some doubts as to why the staff had suddenly done a one-eighty in their attitude towards Venezia.

‘Still, I’m worried she might be…depressed.’

‘Because of that boy?’

Michele’s ears pricked.

‘Yes. She won’t tell us his name, even though it’s clear that they’re not in touch anymore. I’m just afraid that he…’

‘That he took advantage of her?’

Assisi grimly nodded.

‘You’ve seen how boys behave at that age. They see girls as conquests and nothing else. I fear he might have broken her heart and she won’t even talk to me about it,’ she added with a slight tremor in her voice.

‘Hell girl,’ Vlad sighed, bringing his hands to her face and cupping her cheeks. ‘Don’t. She’ll open up to us eventually. You know she’s very introverted. Let’s win her trust first and I’m sure she’ll tell us everything.’

‘You’re right,’ she took a deep breath. ‘I told her I want to take her to a doctor appointment.’

‘An appointment?’ Vlad frowned.

‘They didn’t use protection,’ Assisi explained in a low voice. ‘I want her to have a full blood work done for any STDs. I think an unexpected pregnancy is out of the question at this point since she told me they’ve broken up a while ago. But I want to be safe…’

‘I get that. I’ll draw up a list of doctors and we can go over it together and set up an appointment. How’s that?’

‘You’re the best,’ she smiled, leaning down to lay a kiss on his forehead. Then another one on his cheek. Then the other cheek. She started peppering kisses all over his face.

All the while, Vlad had a languid smile on his face as he twirled his fingers in her hair.

‘I’m going to take her shopping tomorrow. She needs more clothes. Something other than those odious dresses she wears every day.’

‘On that we’re in agreement,’ Vlad chuckled. ‘I thought I was the only one offended by those ugly dresses of hers. I wanted to tell her we’re not industrial workers in the mid eighteen hundreds, but I didn’t want to upset her even more,’ he pouted.

‘I’m glad you kept your mouth shut,’ Assisi smiled. ‘The last thing we want is for her to feel even worse about herself. She’s already dealing with enough as it is. I want her to focus on herself and start making choices about her future.’

‘That’s right,’ Vlad suddenly moved into a sitting position, effortlessly scooping up his wife and placing her on his lap.

Michele frowned. Their dynamic was…odd would be putting it mildly. He’d never seen anything like it. On one hand, he was disgusted by their overly saccharine display of skinship, on the other, he was intrigued by the origin of it—by the fact that it came so naturally to them.

Unlike himself.

He was still locked in that prison of his own making, where every touch, no matter how benign, threatened to make him ill.

Though it was almost summer, he never went anywhere without his gloves and a long-sleeved shirt. No matter how hot or sunny, his body was covered at all times to prevent any unwanted touching.

And though he’d gotten used to that over the years, he couldn’t help but be fascinated and maybe a little jealous at the ease with which others touched each other.

That was another extra point for his pet. He could bear her touch unlike any other. Sometimes, he even yearned for it. And deep down, he had to admit to himself that in the time he’d spent with her, he’d spoiled himself with those little touches—those skin-to-skin moments that didn’t cause him physical pain or even greater mental anguish.

As he stared at Vlad and Assisi touching and caressing each other as if it was the most normal thing in the world he felt…jealous.

‘She got into quite a few colleges, didn’t she? Which one do you think she’s going to choose?’ Vlad inquired, and Michele’s focus sharpened on that.

He remembered his pet mentioning something about college. So she planned on going, after all?

He narrowed his eyes as he listened more.

‘I’m not sure. Yet another thing she won’t talk to me about. But I looked into the ones she got into and all have great support for people with learning disabilities,’ Sisi pursed her lips, bringing her hand to Vlad’s cheek and absentmindedly caressing him. ‘I want her to continue her lessons over the summer so that she’s not too far behind, but I don’t think she’s enjoying them.’

‘What do you mean?’ Vlad’s brows drew up.

‘I talked to her tutor and she told me Zia is very withdrawn in class. She does her homework and tries her best but… I don’t think it’s working out for her. The tutor kindly suggested we should arrange for specialized one-on-one lessons since she’s having difficulty with some subjects. But you know how self-conscious she already is about her condition. I don’t want to make her feel even worse about herself,’ Sisi explained in a sad voice.

‘She’s going to do great, hell girl. So what if she has severe dyslexia? A lot of successful people do. She’s a hard worker, so I’m sure everything will work out,’ Vlad tried to soothe his wife, seemingly succeeding as she nestled closer to his chest.

Dyslexia?

Michele blinked.

Why hadn’t he known that?

He was supposed to know everything about his pet, yet not one report had mentioned she had dyslexia. When he’d witnessed her poor reading skills back in D.C. he’d attributed that to the fact that she’d been neglected for years on end and therefore no one had taken an interest in her education.

Yet hearing that it’s not a lack of education that caused that but some innate issues?

He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit.

A scowl marred his features as he remembered how everyone had laughed at her. How everyone at school had laughed at her and called her mentally challenged and stupid—some of those rumors of his own making.

His hands curled into fists and he barely stopped himself from breaking something.

‘You’re right. She’ll do great.’ Assisi added confidently. ‘And we’ll make sure she has all the resources she needs.’

‘You’re so good, hell girl,’ Vlad praised, nuzzling his nose in her hair.

‘How good do you think I can be?’ she batted her lashes at him, licking her lips suggestively.

It all started playful enough, but Michele knew where everything was heading, especially as they started kissing passionately.

His lip curled in disgust as he shut the screen off.

Once more, he redirected his attention to where his pet was sleeping peacefully, the new information he’d gleaned dancing through his brain.

He had work to do, starting with whatever doctor Assisi wanted to take his pet to. He wasn’t about to allow a male doctor to put even one finger on her. As such, that situation needed close monitoring.

But first, there was the matter of that shopping Assisi suggested. And if she took his pet shopping and she convinced her to wear anything other than the odious dresses he himself had forced upon her, then Michele didn’t know how he would react. The best course of action was, of course, to make sure his pet didn’t change her style—not one bit.

As for the other matter of her going to college, he didn’t need to dwell on that for now. He was sure that once she became his once more there would be no more thoughts of college going through her mind. He’d make her see him and only him once more and the balance would be restored anew. The world could go on, and most importantly, his revenge could go on.

Rationalizing everything and carefully planning his next steps, Michele could finally go to bed—with the monitor on, of course.

‘Good night, pet,’ he whispered into the night. ‘Dream of me.’

What he didn’t know was that on the other side of the screen, his pet did in fact dream of him. But it wasn’t a dream as much as it was a nightmare, his mocking laughter following her everywhere. She was terrified of him and what he meant to her safety and that of her unborn baby. Time and time again, the same nightmare repeated itself, of Michele cutting her stomach open to remove the fetus, killing it in front of her before killing her too.

Michele, in his delusion, thought he could take up with her again and everything would be as before. He couldn’t even fathom that Venezia had been so traumatized by what he’d done to her she could no longer feel safe anywhere—not even with her own family.

Everything in her life was pure agony and anxiety, and sometimes a mix of the two. Not even her sleep, which had sometimes shielded her from the problems of the real world, could afford her any peace now.

She was simply petrified and living in continual terror.

And the last thing she needed was for Michele to decide he wanted her again.

That was simply her nightmare coming to life.