Page 41 of Debt to the Mafia King
Oh fuck, rolling to my feet, I stared around me. I couldn’t stay here. It hadn’t even been a week yet, and I was losing myself. There was no way I could last a whole year.
Spying my sneakers in the corner of the room where I had kicked them this morning, I hurried to put them on and headed to the door. When I had checked it earlier, after Viktor had just left, it had been locked, but this time it opened.
“Can I get you anything, Mrs. Petrov?” Stephen stepped into view, blocking my path completely. His eyes darted down to my shoes even though one of his eyes was purple and swollen shut.
“Did—” I took a shaky step backwards. “Did Viktor do that to you?” Even as I said the words, I knew the truth. Viktor had beaten this man because he had taken me where I wanted to go.
That’s the kind of man Viktor was.
“It’s nothing.” Stephen’s lips thinned. “Can I get you anything, Mrs. Petrov?” He asked again.
“I was just—”
“Going somewhere?” Again, he looked at my shoes with a shake of his head. “You know I can’t allow that to happen again.”
My shoulders slumped. Of course, he couldn’t. It wasn’t like Viktor was just going to let me walk out of his house and back to my old life. There was still the matter of the debt to settle, and the only way I could pay that off was if I stayed.
“So, I am a prisoner?”
Stephen didn’t look away, but he didn’t smile either. “You’re his wife, and your place is here. Shall I ask the cook to prepare you a meal and have it brought up?”
My eyebrows shot up. “Won’t I be eating downstairs?”
“Not tonight, no. I’ll have a tray made up.” He dismissed me by stepping back.
For five whole seconds, I stared at him. He’d always been nice to me, but I could tell that was over. Stephen might be friendly, but he was still Viktor’s man, and I had to remember that.
He wasn’t my friend, and he wouldn’t help me. No one here would.
Viktor had trapped me, and there was no way out. None. I was a prisoner. I might have beautiful clothes and delicious food, but this room, for all its grandeur, was still a jail cell.
“Don’t bother. I’m not hungry.” I kicked the door shut and headed back to my bed. It might not be Stephen’s fault, but I didn’t care.
I didn’t care if I was acting childish or if it seemed like I didn’t know my own mind anymore. I didn’t care about anything.
Yanking off my clothes, I crawled, shivering, under the heavy quilt and buried my head into it. There was something comforting about being in that dark cocoon. It helped me settle my raging thoughts at least a little.
What was I going to do?
Stay and be what Viktor wanted me to be, even if it meant losing who I really am, or find a way to escape and live the rest of my life on the run? I had no doubt he would chase me and hunt me down like a wild animal. Viktor didn’t care about me, but he did care about appearances, and his wife running away would be frowned upon.
Would he hurt my friends if I ran?
Yes, yes, yes.
He would do all of that and more, but—
Sleep took me, and for the first time since I had been brought here, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
I don’t know how long had passed when my eyes fluttered open a crack, and at first, I didn’t know what had made me wake. The room was in almost complete darkness, and nothing moved.
The mattress next to me dipped again, and a waft of cold air floated against my thighs as someone slipped into the bed next to me.
Viktor.
My whole body tensed. Did he really think I would welcome him into my bed after what he had done today? That I would be a willing—
Crowding over me, he pressed a kiss between my naked breasts and moved downwards, trailing his lips over my stomach until he reached my mound. A moan escaped my lips when he pressed his hot mouth against my clit.
