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Kristoff was silent for a moment. “I think she’s your kryptonite. Your obsession.”
Viking had never lied to him before and he wouldn’t start now, so he replied with a grunt.
“I know about obsession,” Kristoff continued, his eyes looking far away. “It will come and bite you in the ass one day. Just think. How long has it been since you’ve had an attack of the clones?”
Kristoff had actually named his rage moments. Bastard.
“Four days,” Viking admitted. It was when he’d lost it in front of his daughter.
“And how long was it before that?”
Years. “This time it’s going to be different. I’m not a stupid twenty-year-old anymore. I’ve seen her real face. She ain’t fucking with my head again.” Also, he intended to keep her locked up.
“Do with her whatever you want, as long as it doesn’t affect the Sokolov deal.” Kristoff gazed up at him questioningly. “Unless you’re thinking of breaking off the engagement?”
“I think that ship has sailed, don’t you?” There was no getting out of an engagement with the Pakhan’s niece. Not without paying a hefty price, and that sum wouldn’t be collected in U.S. dollars.
“Not unless you’re prepared to sink it.”
He knew exactly what Kristoff meant, but he wasn’t going there. “We need that ship if we want to expand. I’ll just fuck her until she heats up.” A vision of Elena suddenly appeared. How he’d fucked her into the mattress with long, deep strokes. She’d been pure fire, liquid gold burning him. He had to get that witch out of his head. Fast.
CHAPTER 12
ELENA
Reuniting with her daughter was bittersweet. Elena knew it was impossible, but it felt as if her little girl had grown since the last time she’d seen her. They both cried as they fell into each other’s arms. But Elena knew their time was limited. A predator was after her little girl and every minute they talked was another minute Vicky wasn’t safely tucked away far from the Morellis. Far too soon, Elena knew it was time to say goodbye.
No sooner had Vicky left than Viking entered the room.
“You don’t need to worry. I didn’t tell her about you shoving me in a cellar and leaving me there to starve.” Or about the other activities that had passed between them. No matter her daughter’s age, she was still impressionable and, as her mother, she needed to keep decorum, or at least try to. “When are you going to let me go?”
“Whenever I feel like it.”
“And when exactly does your royal highness think he will feel inclined to do so?”
His nostrils flared. “It took me fifteen years to find out I’m a dad. You know I don’t forget easily. You do the math.”
Her mouth dropped. He couldn’t be saying what she thought, could he? Fifteen years? He was planning to keep her locked up for over a decade?
“You can’t be serious.”
He grabbed her chin. “You don’t seem to grasp the situation you’re in. Let me enlighten you. It’s called the spoils of war. You being the spoils. We were at war. I won. You lost. Meaning you are mine now, to do with as I please. Consider that a royal decree.”
“So, now what?”
“What do you think?”
“I’m not going back into that moldy crypt!”
“You’ll go wherever the fuck I send you.”
Unbelievable. “And let me catch a cold again? Then why bother with the doc?”
“I didn’t call one,” he spat. “Baran did when he saw you lying in a pool of your own drool. He decided it was his job to keep you alive, so he took you upstairs and got help.”
So, it was like that? The only reason she wasn’t still coughing her lungs out was because of his sidekick’s sense of duty?
“And if he hadn’t?”
