The Mafia and His Obsession: Part 1 (Tainted Hearts 4)

Was Valentin visiting me again?

I trembled—I couldn’t take anymore right now.

But instead of my nightmare, my beautiful dream walked through the door. Just like it was meant to happen in the first place.

My breath was stolen from me, and I gasped this time. My heart accelerated and drummed harder than before, the wings of a bird—wanting to be let free.

The lights were still on, so I saw him clearly. Viktor closed the door behind him and locked it. In his hands, there was a tray of food.

My stomach rumbled at the sight; just now I realized that I was, in fact, hungry. My eyes met his unsmiling face—expressionless.

He was dressed in all black, but like last time, he’d left his suit jacket behind again. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the length of his tattoos. The first few buttons of his shirt were left undone.

With his harsh face, he looked deadly, but I wasn’t scared of him.

Because he finally came for me. After waiting for so long, he was finally here. His eyes were trained on me as he walked closer.

I sat up straighter, our eyes never breaking from each other. The room felt less cold. His presence enveloped the room, creating a safe cocoon around me.

He made my heart warm, and the warmth continued to spread throughout my body. Whenever he was near, I seemed to forget everything. He was all I could see and think of.

Viktor really was a puppet master—and I was his willing victim.

He neared the bed and placed the tray on my nightstand. When he stood to his full height again, he towered over me, looking much bigger and more dangerous.

His lips were set in a straight line, and I watched his eyes glide over my body. His gaze paused at my neck, and then they continued in a downward path. His gaze left a trail of warmth until I knew I was blushing.

Finally, our eyes met again. Viktor stepped forward, and I breathed him in, locking this moment deep inside me.

His hand reached out and touched the top of my collar. My heart stuttered, finally realizing what he was seeing.

Viktor was seeing my husband’s aftermath.

Embarrassed and filled with shame, I looked down at my lap. I refused to see the pity in his eyes. That was the last thing I wanted from him.

I didn’t want Viktor to see me like this—weak and lost.

My nails dug into my palms as I stared straight ahead, wishing he would leave. But also secretly wishing he would stay—with me.

My feelings were a ball of confusion. But when his fingers trailed up toward my chin and he turned my head toward him—our eyes meeting in silence—my feelings were clear as day.

I really did want him to stay—and hold me. I wanted my dreams to be real.

His other hand came up, and he touched his lips. My gaze immediately went there to see him speaking.

“Are you hungry?”

I shrugged, waiting for him to continue. “I brought you food. You should eat.”

He didn’t wait for my answer. Instead, he released me and then placed the tray on my lap. He nodded toward the food with a raised eyebrow, waiting while crossing his arms over his chest.

Viktor didn’t seem like a man who waited for answers. He took and did whatever he wanted, expecting the others to listen and submit. He was demanding—his words a command, not a request.

Igor’s words resonated through my ears. He is a powerful man.

I always knew that, but now I could see it more clearly.

Slowly, I ate what he brought for me. Viktor settled on the bed in front of me. Every once in a while, our eyes would meet, and every time, it became harder to look away.

The silence between us—it was beautiful.

Sometimes there aren’t words. Sometimes silence is all you need.

Because even in the silence, I could hear his words—his voice. And in the deepest silence, that was when my heart danced so wildly for this beautiful, deadly man.

When Viktor reached forward to grab my hand, I paused and took in a shuddering breath. He smoothed his thumb over the inside of my wrist, slowly and so softly.

His thumb rubbed over my throbbing veins, and my breathing changed, racing with every swipe of his thumb.

His touch was electrifying, and it made me needy of him. Almost like an addiction.

That thought made me smile inwardly. Maybe I was addicted to Viktor. And this addiction was one I never wanted to escape from.

He pushed my long sleeves up above my elbows. The corner of his eyes tightened, and I saw his expression changing—becoming harsher and angrier.

I looked down to see the marks Valentin had left me.

When I tried to pull away, his hold tightened, and his eyes met mine again. Biting down on my lips at the look he was giving me, I stopped struggling.