The Mafia and His Obsession, Part 2 by Lylah James

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 22

 

 

Viktor

 

The fight had left me completely battered. Slashed and bleeding, in pain. I remembered losing consciousness for a minute, the world going pitch black and then…nothing. The next time I woke up, I was in the car with Yegor in the driving seat as we cruised through the dark streets of Moscow.

The water cascading around me was both soothing and a slow torture. I rubbed my skin furiously, trying to wash away the blood and the filth of the death-pit. My wounds seemed to burn right out of my flesh, causing me to wince and hiss every time I accidentally touched them.

The cold water started to turn my aching body numb, and I placed my forehead against the shower wall, sagging forward. My shoulders slumped, and I felt…so fucking lost.

Closing my eyes, I breathed. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

My mind became an endless road that led me to nowhere. I thought of everything that had taken place within a week. Day and night, I had been consumed with one thought only.

How badly I had fucked up.

Sometimes, I’d wake up breathless—screaming for Valentin to stop.

My nights had been riddled with nightmares.

And my days, every waking hour, every time I looked at Valerie, I was reminded of how badly I had failed her. It was a never-ending circle of torture.

Just thinking of all the things he had done, it made me so fucking incensed.

But I was powerless.

For now.

Two more weeks.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Valerie said she was strong. She really was. Strong and beautiful. Her heart had been broken so many times, yet she still found a way to smile at me. How? I didn’t know.

She said she loved me.

But…I loathed myself.

Love couldn’t be so blind. Love couldn’t be so accepting. Love couldn’t be so…innocent and pure.

Yet Valerie made it all of that. Accepting. Innocent. Pure. Beautiful. Something otherworldly. She had a heart full of love to give, and I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to withstand it.

She had shown the devil a piece of heaven, and he was greedy for more. He kept coming back, starving for another taste. In this end, it broke him.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

A touch of my shoulder caused me to stiffen, causing my thoughts to halt. Swiveling around, I faced the intruder.

Shock coursed through my body, and I stared at the woman standing in front of me, naked and wet from the water spray. Staring at me with beautiful hazel eyes that told me silent stories.

Valerie.

“Viktor,” she whispered gently. Her gaze traveled the length of my body, and her expression grew pained at the sight of my injuries.

She touched my chest lightly, her brows furrowed and her lips wobbling with an effort to keep her cries inside. “Why do you do this to yourself?”

My sweet myshka was here. In my room. In my shower.

I must have gone mad. My mind was playing tricks. I couldn’t think. I heard her speak yet my ears couldn’t register her words fully. Shock could only make me silently stare at the exquisite vision in front of me.

How?

Valerie was never allowed to leave her room. Yet here she was…in the middle of the night. Like a little siren, she had come here to tempt me with her words and her beautiful broken soul.

I decided this was a dream. It could only be.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

“Valerie,” I said, my voice hoarse and quiet.

She stared at me silently, her fingers caressing the tired muscles of my chest and shoulders.

A dream.

I never wanted to wake up from this.

“Let me bathe you.”

My eyes closed, her voice so sweet and so real to my ears. It was music, a symphony to my bruised heart. Valerie soothed the ache and she healed the wounds.

Don’t wake me up. Please. I never want to wake up from this dream.

My chest ached. My head throbbed. My lungs clenched. When my lips parted to speak, I could hear the way my voice cracked under the weight of my emotions. “Don’t leave me.”

 

***

 

Valerie

 

Viktor’s words made me choke back a sob. Don’t leave me. His voice cracked and it sounded so…broken…so lost. His shoulder caved in, his body shaking under the cold water that was seeping through bones.

I hated to see him like this.

Viktor Ivanshov, the one I fell in love with, he was a strong man. Powerful. Someone always in control. Someone who liked to play games.

Once upon a time, he was the predator and I was his willing prey.

To see him like this…so small, so lost, hurt and bloodied, my lungs seemed to tighten under the pressure of my emotions. It became harder to breathe.

“I am not leaving,” I murmured, placing a kiss on his jaw. His muscles ticked under my lips, and I kissed him there again, waiting for him to relax under my touch.

My lips feathered over his cheek while my hand went behind him, switching the water from cold to hot. I waited for a few seconds before the cascading water turned warm enough for us to stop shaking. My teeth stopped chattering and my bones were no longer chilled. I slid closer into Viktor’s body and wrapped my arms around his waist.

Hugging his slump body to mine, I shared my warmth with him. His hands landed on my hips, and I inhaled a shuddering breath.

It had been a week since that night.

When I had confessed my love to Viktor, I thought it was all over.

When he had kissed me so sweetly and worshipped me with his touch, confessing his own love for me, I thought we’d moved on from what Valentin had done to us.

But I was mistaken.

That night, he woke up screaming, shaking and sweating profusely. He said it was just a nightmare. Viktor wouldn’t tell me what he dreamt, but I saw the darkness in his eyes, the agony and the way he stared at me…so helplessly.

At the beginning, I used to have the same nightmares.

And now my Viktor was also suffering.

Every night, he would wake up. I’d soothe him but I knew…I just knew, something had changed, and no matter how much I whispered the words I love you, my Viktor was lost in his head.

He saw himself as a failure; I saw that.

He saw himself as powerless; I felt that—the way his ribcage seemed to cave into this heart in a show of weakness.

I made him vulnerable.

Viktor had made vows to me—to keep me safe, to cherish me, to love me—to steal me away from here.

He thought he had broken those vows by letting Valentin touch me the way he had.

If only he saw it the way I did.

My Viktor had never broken his vows. I knew the consequences of living under Valentin’s roof. I knew what could happen, and I was prepared for it.

Viktor’s vows…every time he touched me so tenderly, he fulfilled his promises.

He kept me safe while I was in his embrace.

He cherished me while kissing me sweetly.

He loved me while staring into my eyes silently, like I was his most precious treasure. His heart.

And every time he made love to my soul, he’d steal me away from this hell-hole.

If only…if only he’d see it the way I did.

Then he wouldn’t be like this…so far out of my reach even though he was this close, his heat seeping into my body.

I was touching him, yet his mind was somewhere else. I wished I could bring him back. I wished…he’d be the man everyone feared and cowered in front of.

A beast who’d smile with sharp teeth and a dangerous mind. His smirk was deadly. The Viktor I loved was a menacing man who had people fall to their knees with only a fatal stare. His mere existence was threatening.

This man in front of me…

He was not my Viktor.

This man was only filled with so much pain…and rage.

My gaze ran over his body, looking at the injuries he had accumulated over seven days. His stomach was severely bruised. His face and arms had several cuts and more bruises. His left eye was almost swollen shut. He seemed unsteady on his feet, and I knew his legs probably took some severe hits too.

Why? Why, Viktor…why do you do this to yourself?

I understood his need to fight…to kill…but I couldn’t let myself understand why he would hurt himself like this.

As if he were punishing himself. Hurting himself on purpose. As if being in constant agony was now his solace.

“It hurts me to see you like this, Viktor.”

His eyes clenched closed at my words and his hold tightened on my hips.

My beautiful broken man.

Rubbing my hands over his arms, I watched as his head fell forward. He sighed in relief when I started rubbing my fingers through his drenched hair.

“I’ll take care of you,” I whispered, kissing his chest where his heart was beating through. “Like you took care of me.”

I lifted the soap to his chest and rubbed it over his skin, while making sure I was avoiding his cuts. His muscles flexed and tightened at my touch and then relaxed. His lips were slightly parted and I felt him inhale.

I exhaled.

He breathed out.

I breathed in.

The water sluiced down his face, and he opened his eyes. There was a look of desperation on his face, and his dark eyes were fixated on mine. He didn’t look away. I couldn’t look away even if I tried.

Viktor brought his hand up and his index finger touched my lips. “Can I kiss you?” he asked roughly, his touch grazing over my full lips.

I nodded, unable to speak.

When he didn’t move, still staring into my eyes, I went on my tip-toes. Holding his shoulders, I brought our faces together. Our cheeks touched and then I brought my lips to his. A sweet, simple kiss.

He tensed underneath me and then he made a strangling sound at the back of his throat. “Myshka,” he whispered against my lips.

My heart raced and my stomach twisted in ropes. His hand slid through my hair and he pulled me closer. Our lips stayed locked. He didn’t force my mouth open. He didn’t kiss me savagely.

Instead, I kept our lips pressed together. A whispered, tender touch.

When I pulled away, his eyes were clouded over. Both in awe and in pain.

I took a step back. While standing this close to him, I studied my man. His incredible height and the width of his chest and shoulder rivaled mine. I was small, both in height and size. The strength of his body made me feel delicate.

His eyes spoke a tale of misery. The way he looked at me…like I was both his saving grace and his greatest torment.

I used to think of Viktor Ivanshov as a god.

Right now, he was a lost god. A fallen warrior.

Yet he still held incredible strength inside his bruised soul. If only he’d let himself free from the misery he seemed to force on himself.

After washing myself, I walked us out of the shower and picked up two towels before quickly drying us off. I even ran it over his wet hair, brushing all the excess water out. He closed his eyes, sinking into my touch.

After we were completely dried, we silently got in bed. Viktor never said a word. He watched me stitch the deep cuts, while applying bandages on the smaller ones after disinfecting them. I even applied some soothing salve to his purple and green bruises.

Some wounds were a few days old. Yegor told me Viktor had gone to the death-pit five times this week. He had forced his body into fighting more than he could take.

When I was done, I curled up at his side, pulling the bedsheet over our nakedness. He touched my cheek, sliding his finger up and then bumping the tip of our noses together. “I never want to wake up from this dream,” he whispered to me before closing his eyes.

“It’s not a dream,” I tried to say, but he didn’t open his eyes again. A few minutes later, his breathing evened out, and I watched him sleep. Even then, his eyebrows were furrowed, his expression tensed. I wished I could soothe away all his pain, but Viktor seemed to be keeping me at a distance.

Eventually, my eyes grew heavier and I was pulled under by sleep. When I woke up later, Viktor was thrashing on the bed. His skin was covered with a sheen of sweat and his forehead was creased angrily. His jaw clenched and he emitted a pained growl, coming right from his chest. His eyes were squeezed shut and I couldn’t bear it.

I couldn’t see him like this.

I couldn’t…

I just couldn’t.

Tears welled up in my eyes, I folded my hands over his fist. “Wake up. Please.”

“Valerie,” he whimpered. “Don’t fucking touch her!”

He sat up with a start, and I choked back a sob in response. His bloodshot eyes met mine and he stared at me. Shock. Pain. Tenderness. Lost. Admiration. There was deep torment in his dark eyes. Torment. Anger. And love.

How was it possible for him to look at me with so much heartbreak in his eyes, yet his gaze still be filled with so much love?

It was a tragedy to my heart.

“You—” he started in a rough sleepy voice. “What—”

He cleared his throat and shook his head, as if to clear his mind. Viktor looked down at my hands over his. “How…how are you in my room?” He looked so confused, blinking several times as if to get rid of this mirage that was me.

I squeezed his fist, giving him a small smile. “Yegor came to me. He said you were hurt. I couldn’t stay in that room anymore, not when I knew you needed me.”

“If Valentin finds out…”

I cut him off before he could continue. “He won’t. Yegor was able to sneak me out, and everyone is sleeping.”

Viktor shook his head in disbelief. “No, Valerie,” he hissed. “You shouldn’t be risking yourself like this and—”

His angry tirade of words was stopped when I placed a hand over his mouth. “You forgot. Valentin…he gave me to you.”

Saying the words had my cheeks burning, and I felt the redness spread down my neck and there was a warmth in my chest. “That means I am yours. He has no say in what I do anymore. His only request was that I don’t leave the estate. He never mentioned anything about me leaving my room. The only reason we decided that I should stay in my room was that it would safer and I would be away from Valentin’s eyes.”

Viktor still seemed unappeased by my words. “It’s okay, Viktor. No one can harm me. Not anymore. You’ve made sure of that.”

Viktor had sacrificed more than I could ever understand. For me. He was forced to make a choice.

His family…or me?

His brother…or me?

My Viktor was a soldier. A loyal warrior. He stood to protect his family, his people—standing on the right side of his King.

But a week ago, his loyalties were tested, and Viktor made a choice that broke the deepest part of him.

Viktor said to trust him.

He said he knew what he was doing.

But I saw his eyes. The anguish in them. The look of brokenness and failure.

Every day, I had to look into those beautiful eyes; the eyes that once held the sun were now a hollow darkness.

I knew he made a choice that he’d never forgive himself for. If only I could wrap my arms around him and protect him from all the suffering. Like his guardian angel. Like he had protected me since the day he laid eyes on me.

My fingers lingered over his lips, and he kissed them sweetly before pulling my hand down. “He has already harmed you. Valentin already…”

He trailed off, his words getting choked up in his throat. I closed my eyes, feeling the tears burning them. Sniffling back my cry, I opened my eyes once again, staring at the man I have come to completely adore. “Why are you doing this to yourself, Viktor?”

He made a pained sound in the back of his throat. “I can’t fucking sleep, Valerie. I can’t breathe. Every time I close my eyes, all I see…all I fucking see is him. You. And…”

Viktor snapped his mouth shut, so hard I was almost frightened he had broken his jaw. “I sat there. I just…sat there. Like a helpless man. You wouldn’t cry. You didn’t speak. Even though you were silent, I still heard your helpless, painful cries.”

He pounded on his chest. “Right fucking here.”

His head fell forward, and he tipped his chin toward his chest in defeat. “My ears ring with the sound of you sobbing.”

Guilt was the worst demon to bear. As much as it could make you realize your mistakes, it could also be evil. It strangled you by the neck. It cut you deep. It ripped apart your insides.

To move on, Viktor had to let go of the guilt he held inside him.

Or else it would be our ruination.

My lips parted to say something, to soothe him, yet all I could mutter was a pathetic whimper. It hurt.

It hurt so much.

And it was hurting Viktor more.

His neck tensed as he thought more of our reality. “Stop,” I said to him. Viktor released a humorless chuckle but didn’t look up.

“You are not a failure, lyubov moya.”

His head snapped up, staring at me with his eyes that said so many unsaid words.

Lyubov moya.

My love.

“I wish you hated me. Your love hurts because I feel so unworthy of it.”

“You need to stop hurting yourself as a punishment. This…” I motioned at his battered body. “This self martyrdom. You need to stop. Tell me, Viktor. Do you want me hurting? Does my tears make you happier?”

His eyes darkened and I could see the way his jaw tightened. “No,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “No!”

“Don’t you see? Watching you like this, hurts. It wounds me so deep and it hurts more than Valentin could ever hurt me. So please, for my sake, stop,” I begged.

His pain was mine.

Just like mine was his. We were cut from the same thread. A heartbeat that resonated through two souls.

I palmed his cheeks. “Look at me,” I ordered. “Look. At. Me. I am not angry. I don’t hate you. Get out of your head, Viktor.”

There was so much shame in his eyes. “I…can’t,” he said, his voice broken.

Viktor nuzzled into my palm so lightly, a tender touch. “It’s…so…fucking…hard.”

“Look at me,” I said again. His eyes met mine and my thumb grazed his bearded cheek. “Love means surrender. It means that my heart needs yours. But, Viktor, you can’t have the deepest passion and the most beautiful love story without heartbreak.”

Tears streamed down my face, but my eyes never left his. He seemed to be transfixed by my words. “And that’s exactly what we went through. We have passion. We have love. And now we’ve had heartbreak. It’s time we move on. Once you fall, you rise and begin again.”

Viktor brought his hand up and ran a finger down my cheek. “We are not weak and you are not a failure,” I whispered.

What we had been through had made us stronger. Viktor just needed to see that.

I let go of him and reached across the bed to open the drawer in his nightstand. There, I found what I was looking for. Taking the yellow and white paper out, I handed it to Viktor.

He stared at me, confused. I exhaled, feeling the tension in my chest squeezing my lungs.

Taking his hand in mine, I ran my thumb over his bruised knuckles. “Can you make me a paper swan, please?” I asked softly.

Viktor’s eyes widened, and he looked down at the paper before taking his hand out of my grasp. He didn’t say a word; instead he started to create magic with his hands. I watched as he silently manipulated the paper, and when he was done, there in the middle of his palm sat a small, beautiful paper swan.

The exact replica of what he gave me before.

The same one that was broken by Valentin.

Viktor released the origami into my own hand, and I smiled up at me, watching all the emotions play on his face. “A new beginning,” I said.

I saw his throat work as he swallowed hard. Viktor’s eyes glistened. “A new beginning.”

What was once broken…had now been mended.

Closing my fist gently over the paper swan, I leaned forward and kissed his lips. There was a lump clogged in my throat but I swallowed it away. His lips were soft under mine and he tasted like always. His smell…his taste felt like home.

“I love you.”

Viktor stiffened at my words for only a brief second. And then I felt all the tension drain from his body. I pulled away slightly to fully look at his face.

“I love you too.”

I knew he wanted to say more. So much more. I knew this was all too much for him. But…we were going to be okay.

I saw it in his eyes. Almost like a renewed hope. I drank in his handsome face. Bruised but alive. Hurting but still so devoted in the heart.

God, how I loved this man. I never knew it was even possible to love someone this much.

“Two weeks. We have only two weeks left,” Viktor stated.

“I trust you.”

He nodded before taking a deep breath. I watched as the heaviness faded from his shoulders. Viktor was no longer slumping or caving inward. He squared his shoulders, meeting my gaze with dark eyes…eyes that reminded me of the Viktor I fell in love with.

Dark eyes that held a mystery—a dangerous secret, something feral. That look on his face…the look everyone seemed to fear, I had come to adore.

My heart thundered in my chest when he bent down and took my lips so passionately, I lost my breath.

Two more weeks.

And then we were out of here.

Freedom.