Chapter Two
Viktor
The woman on my lap intrigued me. She was beautiful.
Not stunning, or the type of gorgeous you see in magazines, and yet I couldn’t look away.
The moment I’d held her in my arms, I’d known that I wouldn’t leave that house without her.
Not only did a man like Eddie Humes not deserve a daughter as sweet as Cerys, but I refused to let him continue to abuse her.
The way she’d snapped at him, and what little she’d said, was proof enough that Mr. Humes was a rotten man.
I’d killed, and I didn’t feel the least bit sorry for my victims. It was all done by order of the Vor.
I’d been born into the Bratva, had worked my way up the ranks when I’d become old enough, and had made a place for myself toward the top.
Very little made me feel much of anything.
I enjoyed the release of being with a woman, but I’d never wanted to hold onto one and not let go. Until now.
Cerys was unlike anyone I’d ever met. My little mouse.
Her skin felt like silk as I stroked a hand down her arm.
She didn’t look a bit like her father, and it seemed she hadn’t inherited his evil heart.
She could prove me wrong. Just because she didn’t have her sight didn’t make her any less dangerous.
In fact, she was more so. Who would ever suspect someone like Cerys of being deadly?
I could see her swaying people to her side with those pretty eyes, lulling them into a false sense of security.
“Come, myshka . Time for bed,” I said, lifting her and rising to my feet.
She clung to me and I carried her through the penthouse to the master suite.
I’d considered giving her a room of her own, but the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of her in my bed.
Not just when I wanted her, but all the time.
If she truly was as sweet as she seemed, I had a feeling I’d want to keep her close.
Perhaps some of her goodness would temper the monster I kept locked inside.
I eased her down next to the bed, then went to close the door.
Several men had access to my home, and I was selfish enough not to want any of them to see Cerys, especially since I intended for her to be naked, or damn close to it.
When I turned to face her again, she was fidgeting, her hands worrying at the hem of her shirt and her weight shifting foot to foot.
“What’s wrong, myshka ?”
“Why am I here? What’s my purpose?” She licked her lips and looked away, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “Am I your whore now?”
My gut clenched at that word. I’d used whores before, and the Bratva owned several brothels, but Cerys wasn’t a whore.
She was… mine. My property in the eyes of the Bratva, but I didn’t just want the use of her body.
I desired her, and I planned to have her as often as I wanted, but there was something about her that called to me, made me want to protect her.
“You’re not a whore, but if that’s your way of asking if I plan to fuck you, the answer is yes. I thought I’d made that clear already.”
She flinched a little.
“Would the idea repulse you less if you could see me?” I asked.
“I’m not repulsed by you, Viktor. I just don’t know you.” Her cheeks warmed. “I may not be able to see, but I could feel the muscles in your chest and arms. I felt the scruff on your jaw and know you have a beard. And since I didn’t feel wrinkles, I’m assuming you’re not all that old.”
Perhaps she’d only ever had lovers she’d dated.
No one-night stands for my sweet myshka .
Despite the fact she seemed sheltered, the fact she knew her neighbors, even those farther down the street, and had attended school proved that she’d had ample opportunity to date boys.
She’d mentioned being homeschooled at some point, but had that been before she was old enough to be interested in dating?
As for the other, I was amazed she’d picked up that much just from touch.
“I’m twenty-eight, my hair is brown, and my eyes are gray. And yes, I’m in shape because I work out. What else do you want to know?”
She felt behind her, found the edge of the mattress, and sat. “What’s your last name?”
“Petrov. Before you ask, my parents are no longer living. I grew up among the Bratva. My father was one of their soldiers, and after the death of both parents, I bounced from home to home. When I was old enough, I started doing jobs here and there for the Vor.”
“Vor?” she asked.
“The head of the Bratva.”
She nodded. “What do you do besides work?”
I ran my hand along my jaw and sighed. This wasn’t the way I’d seen my night going.
I’d expected her to be naked and begging by now.
Instead, we were playing twenty questions, with me doing all the answering.
However, if it set her at ease, then perhaps it would be worth it.
I’d never taken an unwilling woman, and I didn’t want to start now. Especially with this woman.
“I read, and I enjoy dancing.”
“Dancing?”
“My mother taught me ballroom dancing when I was a little boy. After her death, I gave it up. Occasionally, I like to go out somewhere and dance. It reminds me of her. I’m not sure why she taught it to me.
Maybe she was lonely, or perhaps it was her way of sharing a special moment. I’ll never know.”
I’d never shared that with anyone before, and I wasn’t certain why I was doing so now.
Cerys was my property, a pawn in the grand scheme of things, and nothing else.
What did it matter if she liked me? I knew I could have her screaming my name within minutes, just like all the others I’d been with before.
Yet, something held me back. I wanted her trust, and more than that, I wanted her respect.
Not from fear, or because I could give her multiple orgasms. I’d never had a woman want to be with me just for me.
For once, I wondered what that would be like.
Other women had flocked to me for my looks or power.
With Cerys, I knew if she came to like me, it wouldn’t be for some bullshit reason.
She seemed more real and down to earth than the other women in my past.
“I learned to read Braille when I was in school, but my father said we didn’t have money for books at home. The city library had some, but I didn’t have a way to get there after my mother died,” she said. “My father wouldn’t permit Mrs. Popov to take me.”
“What types of books do you enjoy?” I asked, thinking that it wouldn’t hurt to find a few for her. It would help pass the time when she was here alone.
“Paranormal books,” she said. “I know werewolves and vampires aren’t real, but I enjoy reading stories about them.”
I pulled out my phone and sent a message to Ilya in hopes he could find a few books and have them delivered to my door by morning.
I asked my myshka what size clothes and shoes she wore, but she wasn’t certain.
I checked the labels in the items she was wearing and sent a request for a few items of clothing as well as a decent pair of shoes.
Ilya would no doubt hate searching for the items, but I knew he’d rise to the occasion.
I let my myshka talk a bit more, but her unease didn’t seem to abate. There was only one way I knew to proceed. Slowly, I removed my shoes and clothing. When the buckle of my belt clinked as it hit the hardwood floor, she tensed and her eyes went wide.
“W-what are you doing?” she asked, her sightless eyes scanning the room.
“Getting ready for bed, myshka . You should as well.”
If at all possible, she paled even more. I wondered about her fear over being intimate with me. Had her previous lovers hurt her?
“Perhaps a shower first?” I asked.
She nodded emphatically and stood so fast she almost toppled over.
I smiled, realizing that she had no idea I would be joining her.
Instead, I led her into the bathroom, started the water for her, then walked to the door, letting it close loudly.
Not moving or daring to even breathe hard, I watched as her shoulders sagged.
There was still a frightened look in her eyes, and it was obvious that I terrified her, but she seemed a little less scared than before.
I’d lived on the fear I instilled in people for years, but with her I didn’t like it. I didn’t want her to be afraid of me.
Her hands were shaking as she removed her clothes, and I had to fight damn hard not to give away my presence just yet.
My gaze skimmed over her body, taking in her curves, as well as the bruises along her abdomen, ribs, and back.
Had her father done this to her? She stepped under the spray, and I contemplating leaving her to shower alone.
Then the tears started. She sobbed quietly, but as she curled in on herself, I knew I had to do something.
I stepped into the shower and reached for her.
My myshka didn’t scream, and much to my surprise, she actually came into my arms willingly.
Stroking her back, I murmured softly to her, hoping to ease her sorrow and fears.
It had to be a big change for her, coming here after living with her family all her life.
“I’ll keep you safe, myshka . Who hurt you? Where did the bruises come from?” I asked.
“My f-father. He sometimes gets angry with me.”
He was a dead man. I didn’t care if Maksim had given the man a pass or not. I wouldn’t tolerate him abusing the sweet woman in my arms. He’d had something precious, a daughter, one who no doubt would have loved him if given the chance, and he’d thrown her away like garbage.
I tipped her head up, then slowly lowered mine and pressed my lips to hers. She stiffened a moment before melting against me.