Page 33 of Married to the Don (Kornilov Bratva Duet 1)

The closet has glass doors that allow a view of the wooden shelving inside. Usually closets are closed away, hidden rooms to hide your junk, but here, the closet is another feature of the room. It’s beautiful. Metal pipes hold up the shelves and light comes from above each of the shelves as though putting the clothes inside on display like they’re works of art.

I don’t have nice enough clothes to showcase like that.

“The clothes are mine right now,” Viktor says, seeing where my gaze has landed. “I’ll get rid of them tomorrow and have your things put in there. For now, you can borrow whatever you want to sleep in. It will probably be too big on you, but …”

I look over when he stops talking and realize his eyes are trailing down my body. He swallows and looks away.

“I’m sure you’ll make do.”

Make do. I almost laugh at the absurdity of the idea. That anyone would ever make do in a room like this.

I’ve ‘made do’ at the shelter and the gym showers. I’ve ‘made do’ with vending machine meals and scraps from the diner.

Living in this room is not ‘making do.’ It’s luxury. It’s beyond my wildest dreams.

Viktor puts his hands in his pockets, and I finally let myself admire him.

Before, the features that stuck out to me most were the ones he shared with Fedor. Now, however, in his own home, I can admire the things that set him apart.

The broadness of his shoulders and the fullness of his face. It’s almost hard to imagine them as brothers at all now. Fedor looks like a sick ghost of Viktor. Like the unhealthy runt of the litter compared with Viktor’s muscle and mass.

Viktor also looks kind.

Despite the gun he pulled on me earlier. Despite the threat in his voice when he told me not to escape. Despite everything, I can see that Viktor is torn. That he isn’t sure what to do with me because he didn’t expect this situation. He didn’t expect Theo. And yet, he has treated him so well.

“Thank you—” I clear my throat to break through the raspiness in my voice. “Thank you for taking care of Theo. For the toys and the clothes and … the room.”

It feels strange to thank him for such a thing, especially considering we’re being held hostage here, but he could have left us chained in a closet somewhere. Instead, a closet will be filled with clothes for me in the morning.

Viktor nods like it’s nothing and shrugs, his shoulders curling up to his ears. Then he looks at me, and his jaw tightens. His lips part like he’s going to say something, but no words come out, and the thought I shoved aside before of his lips on mine comes racing back to the forefront of my mind.

Almost as if he can read my mind, Viktor slips his hands from his pockets and takes a step towards me.

I let out a harsh breath, and he takes it as an invitation. Viktor crosses the distance between us in an instant, wraps his thick arms around my body, and pulls me against him.

Like a buoy caught in a storm, tethered to the ocean floor but swirling with the waves, I rise up to meet him and press my lips to his. Immediately, I’m lost in the current.

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