Page 43 of Velvet Chains
“And you are welcome,” he adds, gently touching my cheek with his finger.
My eyes widen, nearly bulging out of their sockets, as the full scope of what he’s done hits me. He didn’t just renovate my old store; he expanded it into a mini-empire for books. “You bought the entire thing?”
“Actually, Andrew made him an offer too good for him to pass up—essentially a steal. We got the entire building, plus the two adjacent shops, for a price that’d be considered a bargain even in the old market days,” Victor replies cryptically.
He takes my hand and leads me toward the bookstore entrance. Misha holds open the rich mahogany door, carved with an intricate vine pattern.
As we step inside, I let out an audible gasp. The interior has been completely transformed—polished hardwood floors, plush armchairs scattered between the towering bookshelves, filigreed sconces casting a warm glow. To the right is a small cafe area with marble-topped bistro tables and an antique mirror reflecting the space.
“An actual cafe,” I breathe in amazement. “With seating and everything. I always wanted…”
My voice trails off as I spot the children’s corner, filled with colorful beanbags and shelves. I had always imagined them brimming with vibrant picture books, the kind that invite curiosity and wonder, which I had longed to provide but could never afford within my tight budget.
“Eli would love this,” he says, his voice soft, eyes twinkling with something that makes my stomach do flips.
I feel dizzy. Overwhelmed.
Victor gives me a glance and squeezes my hand. “There’s more, come see.”
He leads me up a curved wooden staircase to the second floor. I run my fingers along the smooth banister, marveling at the rich chestnut hue. Upstairs, a section of quirky gift items and high-end stationery greets us.
At the back of the floor, Victor opens a door. “Your office,” he says simply.
Sunlight streams in through floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating a spacious room with a carved mahogany desk, plush emerald-green armchairs, and built-in bookshelves along one wall. It’s the office I’ve always dreamed of but never dared hope for.
“Victor, this is…” I turn to face him, taking a shaky breath.
Before I know it, tears and a laughable snort escape as a sob breaks free. I double over, hands on my knees, trying to gather myself.
“What the fuck is going on?” Victor’s confusion is palpable as he steps closer. “You don’t like it?” His voice is tinged with concern.
I straighten up, sucking in air and battling the dizzying mix of emotions. Without thinking, I reach for him, pulling him into a fierce hug.
“I… fucking love it,” I manage to say between sobs. “I just can’t believe you did all this.”
Chapter 19
Victor
I MUST be fucking out of my fucking mind.
Because there’s no other way for me to explain what I’ve just done for this woman.
Or feel.
I look down at my crying wife, her body shaking with sobs, tears and snot ruining my shirt. But I don’t mind. Actually.
What I really mind is if she likes the place.
And now, I’m wondering if I’ve done too much. I know I’ve literally just broken all the rules I have for this woman.
“You, you… are welcome,” I blurt out instead of pushing her away and reacting the way I should react.
I hold her closer.
I smell the scent of her hair. Lavender and something distinctly her. It’s intoxicating.
What the fuck is happening to me?
