The Mafia And His Obsession: Part 1 by Lylah James

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 13

 

 

Her

 

I placed my knitting material next to me and stared at the sunset. It was so beautiful that I wanted to reach out and grab it, hold it close to me.

The large windows were my escape from reality. Just a glimpse of the outside world. I liked it. It was enough for me.

I admired the view and wished I could be on the hillside, with my sister by my side. We would both look at the sunset, gazing into the beauty. Just the two of us. Happy and safe.

She loved the sunrise and the sunset. Before, I never appreciated them. But now, they reminded me of my sister, so I held them close. They were the only thing I had of my sister. The only way I could feel close to her.

I thought of the picture in my drawer—something else that was close to my heart. I had very few meaningful things in my life, but the few I had, I treasured them.

I was lost in my thoughts and didn’t feel anyone entering my room until it was too late.

Until I felt the presence right next to me, the heat of someone next to my body. Frozen in my chair, I stared straight ahead.

The cologne that touched my nose told me it wasn’t my husband.

It was someone else.

Someone I didn’t know.

The scent was soft. It didn’t give a headache like Valentin’s. It was manly enough but not too hard.

I felt the person moving closer, his heat wrapping around my body. Licking my lips, I tried not to move. But it was getting hard not to fidget when the silence started to become too much to bear.

He wasn’t doing anything. His body was just close to mine yet not moving. I could only feel him.

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, even though it was only minutes. Until he moved. Slowly and swiftly. His steps were filled with determination. The way he moved around, it was as if he owned the room. The presence around him felt commanding.

He stopped in front of me, blocking my view of the sunset. Blocking my beautiful escape with his huge frame.

Curiosity got the best of me, and my eyes drifted upward, following the path up his strong legs. And then his chest. He was wearing black slacks and the grey dress shirt he wore was tight around his chest. He wasn’t wearing a suit jacket, so I could see every muscle definition.

I knew instantly he was young, not old like Valentin.

He was tall, his shoulders wide, and his frame huge. This man definitely looked like he could snap someone in half without missing a beat or even be out of breath.

I cowered back into my chair, feeling intimidated, and a sense of fear filled me. Who was he? And why was he in my room?

No one was allowed in my room—not unless Valentin allowed them.

If it wasn’t my husband in the room then it was Igor, my bodyguard. And this man, he was definitely not Igor.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw that my bodyguard was standing by the door, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared straight ahead, his face hard and monotone—emotionless. He was younger than Valentin but many years older than me.

I glanced back at the man standing in front of me, my eyes on his chest. The warning bells rang loud in my ears, but I didn’t stop myself. My eyes continued upward.

His cheeks were rough with a few days of stubble, his lips full, and there was small smirk there.

And finally, our eyes met.

Chocolate brown eyes—the same ones I couldn’t forget. No matter how much I had tried.

The same eyes that had haunted me since I caught a glimpse of them behind my partially closed doors.

My heart stalled, and I couldn’t breathe for a moment. I could only stare at him.

When he noticed that my eyes had finally met his, his lips tilted up in the obvious smirk he was trying to hide before.

He looked…dangerous while smirking. But playful too. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. He appeared to be closer to my age, maybe a few years older. He looked mature, a man set to conquer the world.

“Hello,” he said in Russian.

My heart accelerated. He was talking to me. Nobody was allowed to talk to me.

He said something else, but I didn’t hear it. His eyes narrowed on me as he cocked his head to the side, regarding me with a strange expression.

As if he were trying to figure me out.

I stayed still, trying to make myself as small as possible. His presence was overbearing—almost too much for me. There was something about him that I couldn’t quite catch. His eyes were hard and dark, reminding me of Valentin.

I knew he wasn’t a good man. If he was here, in this estate, he wasn’t a good man. He was just as dangerous. Another made man. Another killer. Another monster.

But he felt different than Valentin.

Even with the fear inside of me, he wasn’t doing anything to hurt me.

“So are you going to say something?” he asked, this time in English. When I stayed silent, he let out a breath and raised an eyebrow.

“You are not going to talk? Silence is very rude when someone is speaking to you,” he continued in English. Maybe he caught the understanding in my eyes when he spoke before.

I still didn’t say anything, his stares warm on my face as I continued to gaze into his. My lips were tightly shut, waiting for him to continue his babbling.

He could speak, taunt me however he wanted—I would never find my voice. That gift was taken away from me before I could even appreciate it. Exactly like my life. It was just like the saying—you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.

I wish my mother had said to me, let me know to appreciate every single moment in my life for it could be taken away from you in the blink of an eye.

The man snapped his fingers in front of my face, bringing me back to the present. Sometimes, I got lost in my head. It was a safer place to be instead of living with the pain every day.

He smirked again, his eyes still focused on mine. Almost like he couldn’t take them away. His hand went to his pocket, and from the corner of my eyes, I saw him taking out a lighter.

My eyes drifted downward as I watched him click the lighter open, my gaze mesmerized and my mind fascinated by the swirl of his thumb around the little fire. He kept clicking it on and then off. He repeated the process again and again, and my gaze never wavered.

Until he shut it off completely and my eyes went up to his face again. He nodded, as if he approved of me looking up at him. My heart did a little crazy beat again, and I pressed my shaky hands against my thighs.

It was weird, but this close, he was making me nervous, and my stomach kept dipping dangerously.

“So?” he asked, still looking at me with a strange expression. I couldn’t quite read this man. For years, I had learned how to read people’s faces and their reactions—it taught me what to expect and how to prepare myself.

But this man, he was a big mystery, and I couldn’t figure him out. It was a strange combination.

We stayed like this for a few seconds before he shook his head and then chuckled, his perfect white teeth showing.

“Oh right. You can’t speak,” he said, still shaking his head. “I forgot. My bad.”

My eyes narrowed on him, feeling the lash of his words almost as bad as Valentin hitting me. He knew I couldn’t speak yet he still asked. Why? To hurt me more? To make me feel the loss more than I already do?

It appeared like he was tsking at me. “How unfortunate. My sincere condolences.”

There was nothing sincere about his words.

His lips tilted up in an amused smirk, his gaze moving to my lips then my eyes. In his eyes, there was no sympathy or any care. Instead, all I saw was amusement, almost like he was taunting me.

This beautiful man was mocking me.

He was mocking me for not being able to use my voice—for losing a beautiful piece of myself.

His callous smile made my heart ache, because for a brief moment I thought he was different. When I had seen him behind that door, he seemed…different. The look in his eyes, it appeared almost like he wanted to run in and steal me away from this dark chaos.

But now that he was standing in front of me, his body so close to mine, it seemed like he was just the same as my husband.

Or maybe I was just trying to convince myself? Maybe I was just trying to instill fear in me, believing something that wasn’t there.

He leaned forward, and my breath caught in my throat. When he touched me, it felt like my skin was on my fire—like I had been touched by a bolt of electricity. So hard and vibrant. One touch and he had my stomach in knots. My body trembled, but I stayed still, my eyes wide as I stared into his face.

His index finger trailed up my neck, leaving goosebumps behind and causing me to shiver again. He touched my hair before twirling a blonde lock around his first knuckle. When I felt a tug, my body moved against my will.

We were so close, our faces almost touching. I could feel him breathing, and his eyes bored into mine, holding me captive.

Strangely, I didn’t want to escape. He wasn’t hurting me—something I wasn’t accustomed to. For the first time in many years, a man was touching me, speaking to me without hurting me.

So our gaze stayed locked while I stared into his chocolate brown eyes. I could see my reflection in them; I could see what he was seeing.

I wondered if he saw a weak, broken girl—something dirty, a whore?

Or does he see me, the real me?

He tugged at my hair again, bringing me closer until our noses were touching. “What happened to you, silent myshka?”

I almost missed his words. My body felt overheated being in his presence. His warmth seeped into my pores, feeding my insides until I was no longer cold.

He spoke again, but I didn’t get it. It felt like I was submerged underwater. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think.

I could only stare into his eyes that had captivated me and weren’t ready to let me go.

I wanted more of his warmth. After feeling cold for so long, I craved this feeling, whatever it was. My heart did another dance again, beating a little faster.

Thump. Beat.

It wasn’t the same beat when I was with Valentin.

It was different. A different melody.

I should have stopped it. I should have pulled away. I should have remembered the rules—the punishments.

Thump. Beat.

But I couldn’t.

Who are you? I wanted to say. My lips begged to say those words, to whisper them to him. My throat closed and nothing came out. No voice. No sound.

Who are you? I screeched in my head as my heart continued to beat in an usual symphony.

He cocked his head to the side when my silence was all he got. Letting my hair go, he stood up straight again and took a step back.

The moment was broken, and suddenly, he took all the warmth away.

I was left feeling cold again—empty. I was left craving more of the warmth he had given me.

Shaking my head, my eyes went to my lap, and I took a deep breath. This was wrong. It was so wrong, and Valentin would hurt me so bad if he ever found out.

And he would. He was going to find out. No, my battered mind screamed. No, my broken heart wept.

My thoughts reeled, and I shuddered even before the pain could happen.

My bodyguard, Igor—he was going to tell Valentin.

While I was lost in this man’s eyes, lost in this moment that brought me warmth, I had forgotten that Igor was standing there by the door—watching everything, watching us.

And now I had to bear the pain of looking into another man’s eyes other than my husband.

My fingers twisted in the fabric of my dress, my nails digging into my thighs as my stomach rolled, and I had to fight the urge of throwing up.

How could I forget? How could I have been so reckless and careless?

Confusion clouded my mind, and I glared at my lap. Stupid girl.It’s all your fault now when Valentin hurts you. You have no one to blame but yourself.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw his feet moving away. I didn’t dare to look up. Maybe he was leaving.

The sudden thought caused my heart to squeeze, and my chest ached—it hurt. I pressed my nails deeper into my skin, trying to stop my rains of thoughts.

I wanted to lurch forward and stop him from leaving.

Stop! I squeezed my eyes shut.

Seconds turned into minutes, and slowly my heart started to calm. The crazy, dangerous melody turned to a dull beat.

My breathing turned to normal, and my chest didn’t feel so tight anymore. When he was close to me, it felt like he had brought havoc to my heart and mind.

But now…everything felt empty again.

My eyes burned because I wasn’t sure what I wanted. The chaos he brought with him or the emptiness I felt in the darkness.

Suddenly, something dropped on my lap and I jumped, my thoughts screeching to a halt.

I froze with fear, and my eyes snapped open. I looked up, and my throat closed, my lips turning dry.

My heart did the same pitter patter dance again. The same melodious beat. The storm of emotions hit me hard, and I could only stare into his brown eyes, mesmerized yet again. Completely and utterly swept by his presence.

Just like before, he held me captive.

He hadn’t left.

He nodded at me and then at my lap. Confused, I followed his gaze.

A notebook and a pen rested there.

I touched the beige papers with gentle fingers, holding it with my thumb and forefinger. After staring at the items for a good five seconds, I looked up again.

Our gazes met and locked.

And then he smiled—a true smile—and it met his eyes beautifully.

My eyes moved down to his smiling lips. He looked beautiful—even more handsome and so different when smiling.

“Talk.”

One word and my eyebrows furrowed. The man nodded toward the notebook and pen again.

“Talk,” he repeated, looking at me expectantly.

Breaking our eye contact, I looked down at my lap again. My heart danced again, my body no longer cold.

He wants me to speak?

He wanted me to speak—not by using my voice. But with pen and paper.

Even though I was someone filled with silence, he still wanted to hear my thoughts. He still wanted me to talk.

I didn’t think my heart could get any crazier. But it did.

This man…he didn’t realize what he had just given me.

He didn’t want my silence—he wanted my words.

So I would give him my words.

Because he had earned them. With one simple action, he had earned them.

Taking the pen in my hand, I held it to the paper.