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“He knows what happens when you fuck up. Baran!” Viking bellowed, not taking his eyes off her for a second.
Elena refused to look away first. His face showed the same swirl of emotions it had since he’d kidnapped her: rage, hate, and a not-so-well-covered desire. She was getting tired of that look, just as she was tired of his reign of tyranny.
When Baran entered, she knew what her fate was going to be before he spoke the words.
“In the morning, get her back downstairs. And give her a sweater and socks this time.”
She kept her mouth firmly shut as Viking left the room. She’d expected Baran to smirk and make another jab at her, but he didn’t.
“What? No hateful words on the eve of leading me back to my prison? No gloating?”
He arrogantly lifted a brow. “Where’s the fun in kicking someone who’s already down? You look as if one gust of wind could knock you on your ass. You’re not a threat to anyone. Viking’s marrying that Russian bombshell tomorrow. He gets a woman who is loyal to this life, who won’t screw around on him. And you? He’ll forget about you. You’ll both get what you deserve.”
After giving her another look of disdain, he left.
There was no need for a breeze. His harsh words were enough to knock her ass onto the bed. Apparently, she looked so worn out and defeated that Baran didn’t even found her worthy to cross swords with.
They all hated her for a treachery she hadn’t committed. She knew what it had looked like sixteen years ago. In her defense, she hadn’t had another choice back then. She’d been a teenager, barely taking her first steps into adulthood. Perhaps back then she had made the biggest mistake of her life, but it had been her only option.
He never asked. Not once did Viking ask why she’d married Lorenzo Morelli.
Of course, she couldn’t tell him. Not without jeopardizing her daughter’s life, but it killed her that Viking hadn’t even asked. He just assumed she’d betrayed him. Even now, holding her captive, all he wanted to know was why she’d never told him about Vicky. It was another effective way to show he didn’t give a crap about her. The only reason she was still breathing was because she was the mother of his child, and because he wanted to torment her. The rage in his eyes hadn’t dimmed one bit in the past week. It only seemed to grow.
He was going to marry some Russian mafia princess and keep her as his prisoner. Worse was that she knew she couldn’t resist him. It had always been like that. She craved his scent, his touch, his nearness.
She recalled all the times they had been together. And the long, lonely years after that, in which she had lived an isolated life. Lorenzo had directed her every move. She’d be damned if she would allow Viking to be the next man in her life thinking she’d be his puppet. He didn’t know Pedro the way she did. He had no idea about what the Morelli name meant to him and to what lengths of cruelty he would go to protect it. He didn’t know the extensive Morelli clan the way she did. Even if Viking killed Pedro, another would take his place, going after Vicky as well.
She was contemplating her next move when Katya walked in with a tray in her hand. Unlike Baran, she had actually brought a warm meal.
Spotting the hot soup, she almost cried. She was such a mess.
“Why are you being nice to me?”
“I don’t believe that the woman who mothered Vicky could be evil. You have a great daughter. I wish Viking would let her stay.” A pout followed with a possessive gleam. “I’m thinking of asking for that for my birthday.”
Elena couldn’t help but smile. Whatever Katya’s position in this house was, she sure didn’t like to depart with people she’d taken a liking to.
“Thank you.”
Katya shrugged. “I think we all need some help from time to time.”
“So, you will help me?” She couldn’t help but sound a bit suspicious. What if Katya would pretend to help her, but the second she walked out of the room she’d yell for help? That had been the case with one of Lorenzo’s nieces; the little witch had pretended to befriend her, only for Elena to discover she was his spy. It had been the last time she had ever put her trust in anyone.
Katya grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt from a closet and put it on the bed. “Let’s start with helping you into decent clothes. I hope they fit. I think it’s the closest thing to your size I could find on such short notice.”
Elena gave a tentative look at Katya’s willowy frame. Not only was she a head shorter than the girl, but no way would her butt fit in anything other than maybe Katya’s sweatpants.
“They’re from the housekeeper’s daughter. Just try them on.”
Finally able to get out of her pajamas, Elena threw on the clothes. The jeans were definitely tight on her ass and the shirt was too tight to hold her larger breasts, but other than that, she felt human again. As predicted, the cough syrup had taken the edge off her fever. She still felt a bit under the weather, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle.
Katya tapped her chin. “Hmm, your breasts look like they could burst out of that shirt, but I’ve seen worse. At least your ass looks like a dream. Did you pay money for that?”
“Only if you count all the money I’ve spent on chocolate desserts.”
“Ah, chocolate,” Katya said dreamily. “Every woman’s true first love.”
“I feel like you’re my soulmate,” Elena confessed while braiding her hair. “Too bad I have to leave.” Almost, but not quite.
