Chapter 4
ISABELLA
I’m back in my gilded cage, staring up at the art that is the ceiling. Everything is just as it was before—well, almost.
Viktor is gone, and I’m missing him.
It feels ridiculous to admit something like that to myself, but I can’t deny it any longer.
He barely even touched me at breakfast, and my body is still buzzing.
It was just his arm, his hand, but I’m shaking like I’ve had ten cups of coffee. When Viktor touched me, it was like something inside me woke for the first time.
Even now, my skin is so hot, so tense, that I hop out of bed and head for the shower. I crank it on cold, strip out of my gorgeous dress, and sit under the water.
The temperature takes my breath away, but I have to do something to cool down. If not, I’m going to overheat.
His eyes…
…the way he was looking at me…
It was like a storm—danger and desire battling for control.
I can still see it now. The hunger, the desire that he was trying so hard to hide. And I get it. A man in his position can’t show emotion. But I saw the gleam, the hint. The want for me that sent my head spinning.
Even under the chill of the shower, my nerves are still humming for Viktor.
What an absurd scenario. My father takes a loan from a mob boss, then sells me off as collateral, and instead of being terrified of the man, I’m turned on by him.
But it’s not my fault.
I mean, he made me breakfast, for God’s sake! I can’t even remember the last time Dad prepared a meal for me that wasn’t microwaved.
He dresses like a king. Perfectly tailored suits that don’t even try to hide his Adonis physique. I may not have seen many shirtless men in my life, but I know for a fact that Viktor would outshine them all.
What do his arms look like? I think, my primal mind taking over. Does he have those V-lines girls talk about on his abs?
Almost on its own, my hand reaches slowly between my legs, middle finger outstretched. I never touch myself, but Viktor has me feeling very curious…
Yeah, this cold shower isn’t helping at all. I shut the water off, wrap myself up in two towels—one for my body and one for my hair—and go slump down on the bed.
“Your mom must be worried,” he said to me. And instead of closing down, which is what I always do, I opened up. I told him about my past.
That never happens. I’m a private person. Trust does not come easily to me. Yet for some reason, it’s the city’s most terrifying mob boss who’s got me spilling my guts to him.
What’s he doing now? I wonder.
Anton interrupted the cute little domestic moment we were having, and Viktor stormed off in a hurry. I could see he didn’t want to leave me, but being the boss comes with responsibilities.
As I lie on my back, I try telling myself over and over that I need to be afraid of him.
He’s a killer…
A criminal…
I’m his prisoner…
But instead of frightening me, these thoughts send a tingling sensation through my thighs. My heartbeat accelerates.
If he’s a monster, why hasn’t he just taken me? Why did he protect me from Craig? And why is he treating me like I’m something precious to him?
My body is still ablaze. I know what I’m supposed to do right know, but I’ve never done…that sort of thing.
I’m almost embarrassed at how na?ve and innocent I am. What will Viktor think when he finds out?
“When he finds out?” I ask myself, shaking my head.
I’ve been taken prisoner by this man and am still fantasizing about being taken by him?
One of the men guarding my room coughs outside, and I’m instantly aware of the reality of my situation. Viktor is gone, but I’m stuck here in this room, unable to leave until my dad comes up with the funds to buy me back.
And that could be forever…
What if I am stuck here forever?
For some reason, that doesn’t seem all that bad to me.
I can’t say how long it’s been when I finally get up and strip out of my towels, but I can see that the sun out the window has moved. It’s probably midday by now.
There’s a blow-dryer in the bathroom that looks like it cost as much as a car. I stand naked by the sink and go to work on my hair.
My mind is a whirlwind. Visions of Viktor spin around like mini twisters. I should feel terrified, but somehow, I feel safer than ever—damn sure safer than back at home with Dad.
I finish up and turn off the blow-dryer and step back into the bedroom.
And that’s when I see him.
Standing in the door, wearing suit pants and a white tank-top, is Viktor. He’s staring at me, and I’m completely naked.
I should cover myself, but I don’t.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” he growls, quickly turning his back to me, and my heart drops.
You don’t want to see me?
I’m quivering all over. Hot pins and needles spread over my body as I stand still as a statue. What do I do?
Viktor’s enormous back and shoulders rise and fall as he draws deep breaths. It’s like he’s gasping, having just run a mile. Maybe he was just beating up a bunch of guys or something?
His enormous fists clench like massive dumbbells at his sides. I can see his veins pulsing through his forearms and biceps.
He’s a far cry from the boys my age I’ve known. My one boyfriend, Josh, was one-fifty soaking wet. We never even kissed. I couldn’t bring myself to. Nothing about him turned me on.
But when I stare at Viktor’s enormity—how he looks like he could tear the entire penthouse down with his bare hands—heat begins to spread between my thighs.
“You don’t have to be sorry, Viktor,” I say softly. “This is your home. I should have been dressed.”
“No.” He shakes his head, still looking away. “This is your home now too. I should have knocked before entering.”
He takes a step forward like he’s going to leave the room but stops himself. Then he almost turns back to me but stops himself again. And that’s when I understand.
Viktor wants to look at me, but he’s holding himself back.
He’s being a gentleman. A mob boss a gentleman? Who would believe that?
“It’s okay,” I tell him. My skin’s hotter now. I’m overheating. God, I’m even starting to sweat.
Thoughts I’ve never had before start to invade my mind. He’s only feet away from me, and it’s like some invisible force is pulling me to him.
My heart pounds heavily against my ribs. I drink in a deep breath, trying to calm myself.
But what do I even have to worry about? Viktor Morelli wanting me? Yeah, right.
I saw the party he was having when Dad brought me here. Countless women everywhere, and they all looked like models. What would he ever want with an inexperienced virgin like me—?
Viktor whirls, and my breath catches in my throat as he snatches me by the waist and with a primal growl, pins me down on the bed beneath him.
His fierce eyes bore holes right through me as I pant up at him, feeling like a helpless prey animal.
“I told myself I wouldn’t,” he stammers, his voice like burning rock. “But damnit, Isabella, I don’t know if I can hold back any longer.”