Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Hailey
Saturday sunlight cut through the floor-to-ceiling windows and spilled warm gold across my bedroom floor.
I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my dress strap for the fifth damn time.
White silk caught the light with a soft, pearly sheen. The fit hugged my waist like it had been made for me. From the front, it looked classy. Clean. Like I was heading to some fancy gallery opening.
Then I turned.
That deep V backless cut plunged all the way down to my lower back, and my cheeks still flamed like an idiot.
Goddamn Samantha.
She'd been right—this dress was a trap. A glossy, innocent wrapper around straight-up temptation.
"Calm down. Treat it like a big interview," I muttered to my reflection, sucking in a breath and trying to shove the nerves back down where they belonged.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand.
I practically lunged for it.
Viktor: Downstairs in ten.
My heart kicked hard.
Ten minutes.
I touched up my makeup, swiped on lipstick, grabbed my little pearl-colored clutch, and bolted for the door.
The elevator ride down felt endless. I stared at the numbers as they blinked, my palms slick with sweat.
The doors opened.
The lobby was quiet. The doorman nodded politely. Through the glass, a low-key, expensive black Mercedes waited out front.
I pushed through the doors and the cool bite of a New York morning hit my face.
And then I saw him.
Viktor leaned against the car door, dressed down in a dark linen shirt and sharp black slacks.
His sleeves were rolled to his forearms, showing solid wrists and those aggressive, dark tattoos.
No tie. The top buttons open just enough.
That usual crushing power in him felt...
leashed on purpose, replaced by something lazy and close and lethal in a whole different way.
God, he was a damn sin.
I forced my feet forward, breathing like I wasn't about to explode.
His gaze landed on me and dragged—slow—from my face down the length of the dress.
The way he looked at me, unapologetic and bare, snapped every nerve in my body tight.
"Morning, princess," he said, voice low, that foreign edge cutting right through me.
"G-good morning." I tried to sound like a functioning human. "I thought you'd send a driver."
"I told you I'd make today unforgettable." He stepped closer, and that familiar cedar-and-leather smell wrapped around me like a hand at my throat. "Handing my girl off to someone else isn't my style."
"Who says I'm your girl?" I shot back, looking away like I suddenly needed to fix the chain on my clutch.
Viktor chuckled. It came from his chest—deep enough it made my knees feel stupid.
"Get in." He opened the passenger door for me.
I hurried over and leaned in to climb inside.
The second I bent forward, I heard the faintest inhale from his throat.
The air behind me locked up.
His stare burned into my bare spine, sliding down the fragile crisscross straps, all the way to the dip of my waist. My skin prickled like it had been branded.
"Looks like," Viktor's voice dropped darker, edged with a dangerous smile, "you've prepared... very thoroughly for today, Hailey. I'm already considering whether I should just lock you in my car so no other asshole gets to look at you."
I snapped my head around, glared, and slid into the seat fast. "If you keep talking shit, I'll go upstairs and put on my jeans."
Viktor laughed under his breath.
Blushing like I'd been caught, I shut the door hard.
The interior was huge. The seat felt like a cloud.
Viktor moved to the driver's side, got in, and started the engine.
A while later, the car rolled to a stop in front of a building.
I looked out the window and saw the massive blue-and-white sign.
New York Aquarium.
"You're taking me to an aquarium?" I stared at him.
"Problem?" Viktor got out, came around, and opened my door. "I remember you said you like ocean life."
I said that?
I searched my brain, and then it hit me—three weeks ago, some late-night texts. We'd talked about childhood dreams. I'd casually said I'd wanted to be a marine biologist when I was little.
Oh my God.
Heat climbed into my chest, and I blinked fast.
"Come on." He held out his hand.
I hesitated for one second, then put my hand in his.
His palm covered mine like it belonged there. Long fingers slid between mine—firm, not gentle, but not rough either—and locked tight.
It was such an easy, intimate gesture my heartbeat slammed straight into my throat. I flinched without meaning to, but his hand held steady, warm calluses brushing my skin. It felt possessive. Safe. And I stopped fighting it.
We walked in hand-in-hand.
But the second we stepped into the main hall, I realized something was off.
It was empty. No tourists. No screaming kids. Just a few staff members standing off to the side, respectful and silent.
"You—" My eyes widened as I looked at Viktor. "You rented out the whole aquarium?"
"Today is just for us," he said, like it meant nothing.
"How much did that cost?"
"Hailey." He cut me off and squeezed my hand. "Don't. Today, you just enjoy it."
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
Because when I lifted my head to that huge curved glass wall, every word died in my throat.
Blue.
Endless blue.
Thousands of fish moved above us, sunlight breaking through water into shifting, dreamlike patterns. A massive stingray glided past, elegant as a dancer.
"Oh my God..." I whispered, stuck.
Viktor didn't say anything. He just kept my hand in his and guided me forward.
We entered the underwater tunnel.
It was the most romantic thing I'd ever seen.
Glass wrapped around us in every direction, like we'd stepped onto the ocean floor. Sharks cruised overhead. Schools of tropical fish flashed at our sides. Under our feet, a sandy seabed display stretched out. Blue light rippled over our skin like something enchanted.
"I don't come places like this much," Viktor said suddenly, breaking the quiet. He stopped us in front of a huge cylindrical tank where silver jackfish whipped around in a frenzy, forming a living storm.
"Why?" I turned to him. "Not exciting enough for you?"
"Because it reminds me of a long time ago." He watched the fish trapped behind glass, his eyes going distant—cold in a way that made my stomach tighten. "The first time I came to an aquarium, I was about seven."
I stared. It was hard to picture him as a kid, pressed to the glass like any other boy.
"That day my father actually had time to take me out," Viktor said.
His thumb stroked the back of my hand, his tone calm in a way that almost felt tender.
"I remember standing at the beluga tank for an hour.
I thought they were free, even in the glass.
It was one of the few days in my childhood that could've passed for... normal."
He didn't say it dramatically. He didn't need to.
Loneliness sat under his words like a deep, dark ocean.
The man who ran empires, who made rooms go quiet, the one people called a tyrant—he stood there with me and let me see a soft, hidden corner of him.
I watched his profile, softened by the shifting blue light. It shimmered in his eyes like something fragile, like an illusion I wasn't supposed to touch. My heart clenched hard, and then something huge and wild rolled through me, swallowing me whole.
"If you like it," I heard myself say, voice impossibly soft, "we can go more places. Have more... normal days."
Viktor turned, and those deep blue eyes pinned me. His throat worked once. Then he lifted his other hand and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His fingertips were hot enough to make me shiver.
"Hailey," he said, voice rough as hell, a warning threaded through it, "don't make promises like that to me. If you give me hope, I won't ever let you take it back. Understood?"
I didn't speak. I just held his gaze in the blue glow and nodded.
In that moment, it felt like I'd found the lock on the darkest part of his soul—and handed him the key myself.
By the time we left the aquarium, it was afternoon. Manhattan sunlight hit too bright, burning away the tunnel's shadowy intimacy.
We walked side by side toward the parking lot. On the corner, outside an open-air café, a girl held a golden retriever's leash while she bought coffee. The dog was all fluffy fur and happy tail, tongue out, sweet as anything.
"Oh my God," I blurted. I'd never had any defense against cute, furry animals.
I let go of Viktor's hand and hurried over, crouching down in front of the golden.
"Hey, buddy. Hi." I grinned and held out my hand. The dog leaned in immediately, nose wet against my palm, then tried to lick my wrist. I laughed, full and bright, like I couldn't stop it if I tried.
"It's so cute." I turned, wanting to share it with Viktor.
Viktor stood back, far away. Whatever softness he'd had froze solid. His jaw was locked tight. His hands hung at his sides in fists, veins standing out like ropes, like he was strangling something inside himself.
The golden retriever seemed to feel it too. It whined, tail tucking, and hid behind its owner's legs.
"Viktor?" Something about him was wrong—violently wrong—and I stood fast, panic flaring as I moved toward him.
When I reached him, he still stood rigid, chest rising hard, breath rough and too quick. His eyes stared at nothing, like he'd fallen into some brutal memory.
"Viktor, what happened?" I didn't know what had changed in one second. Instinct took over. I reached out and wrapped both hands around his clenched fists—gentle, but firm.
His skin was ice-cold. He trembled.
I covered him with my warmth, thumbs stroking over his white-knuckled fingers, trying to pull him back.
"I'm here, Viktor." I tilted my face up, voice quiet. "Look at me. Hailey is here."
A few seconds later, his focus finally snapped onto my face. He closed his eyes hard, dragged in a breath, and when he opened them again, he'd forced the worst of that fury down. What stayed behind was exhaustion and something dark.