Chapter 7 Viktor
VIKTOR
She emerges from the bedroom like a dream. I nearly fall to my knees.
She’s wearing another dress off the rack I had delivered—deep burgundy that clings to her every succulent curve. A slit up one leg that has transformed her from an innocent girl to a lethal woman.
Now she’s able to be my queen.
Mine. All mine.
“Didn’t anyone tell you it’s not polite to stare?” Bella asks, her cheeks blushing near the color of her dress.
“Get used to it,” I tell her, crossing to her in three steps. I find the small of her back and pull her to me. “Every man’s eye in that restaurant will be on you tonight, gorgeous.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
A dark laugh escapes my lips. “They can look, but only I can have you. No one touches what’s mine.”
The possessiveness in my voice should have her running, but she leans into me, and I feel that now-familiar spark in my chest. The reminder that I now have a reason to keep living.
I take my queen’s hand in mine and lead her to the elevator, where Anton stands with three of my best men. They’ll shadow us tonight and handle any small problems that might get in the way of our perfect evening.
This city knows my reputation, but going out with Bella is showing weakness, and that changes the game.
“Mr. Morelli.” Anton nods, his eyes carefully avoiding my woman. Even my most trusted soldier knows better than to gaze at what’s mine.
The ride down is silent, except for the soft jazz from the speakers. I hold Bella’s hand, her fingers interlaced with mine like they were made to fit there.
We arrive at Le Bernadin, which holds three Michelin stars. It’s the kind of place senators and billionaires meet, yet the whole places moves for me.
“Mr. Morelli,” the ma?tre d’, Frank, says with a bow when he sees me. “Your table is ready. Private corner as requested.”
Every eye in the place is on us as I guide Bella through the restaurant, my hand on her shoulder, letting everyone know she’s mine. Men stare with obvious hunger, and although I don’t blame them, my jaw clenches hard enough that my teeth nearly shatter.
Women stare too, but for different reasons. Power hungry gold-diggers in this town have been trying to lock me down for years. I never fell for any of them. Seeing me with a woman now must have their heads spinning.
“Viktor,” she whispers as we reach our table. “Everybody’s looking.”
“That’s what happens when you’re with the king.” I smile, leaning in for a kiss. “My queen.”
Forks stop moving, glasses stop clinking, conversations stop. Everyone’s watching. None of them can believe what they’re seeing.
I can see she’s overwhelmed as we sit down. She’s never been in a place this nice before, and she fidgets with her napkin, overwhelmed by the luxury.
The tablecloths here probably cost more than most people’s rent.
“This…this is too much,” she says softly.
“You belong here, sweetie,” I tell her. “This whole city is yours now.”
The waiter appears with a bottle of champagne—Dom Perignon, the best. Isabella’s eyes widen at the label.
“Viktor, you can’t be serious—”
“For the woman who brought me back to life,” I say, raising my glass once it’s poured.
Bella leans in and whispers, her hands shaking. “I—I’m not even old enough to drink.”
For a moment, I’m stunned. How could I have forgotten? I’m so used to being around dark men and criminals that Bella’s moral virtue has me feeling like the odd one out.
“Of course,” I laugh, turning to the waiter. “Some ice water.”
He nods and returns quickly with a crystal water pitcher and pours her a glass.
We cheers and drink together. I watch her throat as she swallows, fighting the urge to pull her to me and force her down between my legs to claim her mouth in front of everyone.
Hell, I wouldn’t care if these people saw me naked. But they’ll never see more of Bella than what they’re seeing now.
The courses come one after the other. Oysters that make her giggle as she struggles with the shell. Lobster so tender it melts on the tongue. Watching her experience each dish is a joy like I’ve never known. It’s magic, seeing her eyes light up with every new taste.
“Try this,” I say when dessert arrives, honey roasted figs with brown butter cake. I hold the spoon to her lips, watch her luscious lips close around it and her eyes flutter as she lets out a soft moan.
The sound shoots right through me, and I have to shift in my seat as my cock hardens.
“You’re so sexy,” I growl, low enough that only she can hear. “You’re trying to kill me.”
Her eyes blaze back at me, playful and knowing. “Is it working?”
“You’re the most gorgeous woman alive, Bella. You have no idea just how much you mean to me.”
“You’re exaggerating—”
“I’m speaking the truth.” I lean forward, my eyes fixed on hers. “You melted my heart—that block of ice I was sure would remain there forever.”
Her eyes begin to water. “Viktor—”
“I’ve built my entire life on power,” I tell her, stroking my thumb across her knuckles. “I thought that was enough. But when you walked into my life, you changed everything.”
“I’m gonna cry and mess up my makeup.”
“You don’t need makeup, gorgeous.” I smile. “I’ll always find you beautiful. Always.”
I lean in, cup her neck with my palm, and pull her close. “Viktor, everyone’s watching!”
“Let them,” I tell her. “Let them see you’re mine.”
I kiss my queen.
Not the intense, sensual, devouring kiss from our private moments but something softer. Something that speaks to promises of tomorrow, our future together, a future I never thought I would want with any woman.
The restaurant goes silent. The Ice Man of New York showing affection in public. Showing weakness.
Showing his heart…
But I don’t care. When I pull back, Bella’s cheeks are flushed and her lips are swollen. She’s trembling. I see the goosebumps on her skin.
“Take me home,” she whimpers.
I see the look in her eyes. She wants what I want. Christ, we’re made for each other.
Movement in my peripheral vision catches my eye. A man three tables over has his phone raised, clearly taking pictures of us—of her.
Rage floods through me in an instant.
How dare he?!
Can’t he see she belongs to me? Does he not know who the fuck I am? If he thinks he can steal an image of my queen and use it for God knows what, he’s sorely mistaken.
“Viktor?” Bella notices me looking over at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Gimmie a moment, angel.”
I stand and cross the room, controlling myself so I don’t make a scene. This is Bella’s night out more than it is mine, and I don’t want to ruin it for her.
My men start to move with me, but I wave them back with a simple hand motion.
The photographer—some young trust fund baby by the look of him—goes pale when I step up to his table.
“That’s a nice phone you got there,” I say. My tone is neutral. My eyes are not.
“Mr. Morelli—” He’s stammering immediately. “I—”
I pluck the phone from his quivering hands. “Was just taking pictures of my woman?”
He glances over at his friend, but he’s even smaller and definitely not interested in getting involved.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers as I crunch the phone in my grip. Glass and metal snap like paper, the pieces falling onto his plate and into his wine.
I lean in close, so only he can hear me. “Next time, it won’t be the phone that breaks. Understand me?”
“I’m sorry,” he replies quickly. “I shouldn’t have…”
I stand, straightening my cuffs. Anton steps up beside me. I can see in his eyes he’s ready for whatever.
“Sweep the room for any other ‘photographers,’” I tell him. “Make sure they know the consequences of any leaks.”
“I’m on it.”
The whole restaurant pretends not to watch as I walk back to my queen, who’s staring at me with a mix of shock and something else—something like arousal.
That’s right. She likes to see me rule the city.
“What did you do?” she asks.
“I was just reminding him of his manners.” I take her hand and help her from her chair. “Come on. Let’s go. I’m feeling a real need to get my hands up that dress.”
She blushes again, and I wrap my arms around her waist, guiding her through the silent restaurant.
The valet already has my car waiting. As I help Bella inside, I catch her smile. Bright, real—but most of all, mine.
“You are so possessive,” she says, leaning on me once we start moving.
“You have no idea,” I say, pulling her close. “But you’re going to love it.”
“Oh, I already am.”
We drive through the city I own, past the buildings and territories I control. This was my dream once. But now my only dream is the woman pressed to my side.
The word is already spreading. The Ice Man has a queen.
Let them think she’s my weakness. Little do they know, she’s my greatest strength.
“Baby,” she whispers, her voice pulling me from my violent thoughts.
“Yes, my queen?”
“Thank you for…for tonight. For making me feel like…”
“Like what?” I ask.
“Like I’m worth all this.” She takes a timid breath. “Like I’m not just collateral anymore.”
“You never were, my sweetheart,” I tell her, kissing her. “You were always mine.”