Page 83 of Debt to the Mafia King
I rolled my eyes, and he was on me instantly, gripping my chin between his thumb and fingers in a hold that kept me facing him but didn’t hurt at all.
“I have never broken my vows. Not once. In fact, there has been no other woman in my bed since the day I first saw you. There has only been you.” His eyes bored down into mine unblinking, and for a second, it felt like I was being drowned in their dark depths.
“Now, I know you don’t believe me, but it’s the truth. I know it looked bad.”
Again, I rolled my eyes. Bad didn’t quite cover it.
“Roll your eyes at me again, Leah, and I’ll make them roll in a different way.” His grip on my ankle loosened, but instead of letting it go, he lifted my foot to his lips and placed a kiss on my ankle bone. “I did not sleep with her.” Another kiss. “You didn’t see him, but Ivan was in that room as well. She had slashed me across the thigh, and I was inthe bathroom when you came up. She knocked Ivan out with a lamp. I promise you that nothing happened.”
Did I believe that?
“Leah, look at me.”
Unwillingly, I met his eyes.
“I didn’t touch her, Leah.”
“Ok.”
He groaned. “No, it’s not ok, Leah. Saying ok like that means you have given up. That you won’t fight.”
“Fight for what? Come on, Viktor, it’s not like—”
He stood up suddenly, and for a second I was mesmerised by the sight of his naked chest. And then my eyes found his belt as he unwound it, and I looked away.
“What are you doing, Viktor?”
“Proving to you that I am telling the truth.” His button popped, and he pushed the material down his thighs. High on his right leg, a thick bandage was wrapped.
“And if this,” he began to unwind it, grimacing when the white gauze caught on the slash, “doesn’t make you believe, I will call in Ivan. His is worse than mine.”
The slash across his upper thigh was angry, like a mouth that had been stitched shut with jagged black wire.
Without thinking, I reached for it. My fingertips slid across his skin, but stayed away from the cut. “Who stitched you up?” I whispered.
“I did.” He said it like it was nothing and that it was an everyday occurrence to stitch yourself back together.
I let my fingers trace up his leg, again. “You should have gone to the hospital.” I couldn’t help it, leaning forward, I replaced my fingertips with my lips.
“I didn’t want to leave you. You believe me, don’t you?” Reaching down, he ran his fingers through my hair. “Tell me you believe me.”
“She really stabbed you?” My lips inches from his thigh, I darted my eyesup to him.
“Yes, she did. Do I need to get Ivan?”
I shook my head. It didn’t really matter whether he got Ivan or not. Ivan would lie for him anyway. It was up to me to make a decision based on what I was feeling. There was only one problem with that. I didn’t know if I could trust my own feelings anymore, not when it came to Viktor.
“Why didn’t you take my father’s offer?”
My hands fell to my side, and I sighed, “I don’t know.”
He didn’t seem to get angry about that. He just nodded. “You were angry with me. You thought I had betrayed you. Any other person would have agreed just to spite me.” There was more understanding in his voice than there should have been.
Understanding and not an ounce of anger, which was strange for Viktor. His go-to emotion was always anger.
“Then I guess I’m not a normal person,” I shrugged.
He beamed down at me. “I am well aware of that, but that doesn’t answer my question. Why didn’t you sell me out? If you had told him that this was an arrangement, then—”
