Alpha Vlad~
Sex is currency. Easy to spend, easier to forget without your subconscious pricking you over doing something wrong. That’s what I’ve always seen it to be.
With a click of my fingers, any woman I desire is on my bed, legs spread apart, yearning for me. Never in the twenty-eight years since I had my first s*x at eighteen have I felt bad about the act.
I’ve never attached meaning to it. It’s a show to ease my balls and continue my bloodline. But now. Right f*****g now. Why does it feel like something sits on my chest and refuses to move? My heart is hurting, and a voice in my head keeps gnawing that I did wrong. That I betrayed Milena.
The emotions aren’t Milena's or Lada's, leaving me with one conclusion; the guilt I fight within is mine.
Why?
I committed no crime. The o
