Page 19 of Trapping His Darling

“I did.”

“Not safe–”

“I can take care of myself,” I assured him. “I managed without security for a long time.”

“That was before you became the heir apparent. Now you’re a target.”

“No, Alexie is a target. I am the path to peace.”

Upon entering my father’s office, I found my father engaged in a jovial conversation with an unidentified woman. The sound of several voices filled the air with soft Italian cadences. The woman surrounded by her bodyguards stood with her back tome, her golden hair flowing down her back; artificially dyed to mimic my own almost white hair.

My distinctive appearance had long been a source of contention among the men. I was fairer than Alexie. I bore a striking resemblance to my mother in terms of eyes and bone structure, whereas Alexie favored our father.

“Ah, look who’s here,” my father exclaimed cheerfully.

I maintained my composure, revealing nothing of my internal bewilderment. My mask remained firmly in place, my emotions securely hidden.

The woman turned to face me, and my eyes widened in surprise.

“Viktor, this is Isabella,” my father announced, and I extended my hand to shake hers, before he dropped the bombshell. “Your betrothed.”

I concealed any reaction with expertise, as I had years of training doing it. Isabella, this diminutive woman, was everything I never wanted in a wife, if I were to bother having one. She was a mirror image of my mother, with her eyebrows and hair dyed to imitate my own. Her haunting ice-blue eyes blurred in my mind’s eye with the milky blues from long ago.

“The Don and I have finally had a conversation,” my father continued, oblivious to the storm brewing within me. “Isabella is here with her bodyguards to spend time with you. They have trained her to become the perfectPakhan’swife.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t stay in your home as you’ve asked,” Isabella interjected, her voice sounding strangely familiar. She glanced at me, as if sensing my thoughts.

I took a step back, relieved that she wouldn’t be living on the property.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she added.

Her accent was eerily similar to a voice that haunted both my dreams and waking thoughts. I nodded and said no more,fearing that opening my mouth might invite a bullet to my skull. Because I was going to have to dissolve this arrangement.

“Viktor has always been a man of few words,” my father chuckled. “A wise trait, knowing when to speak and when to observe.”

I needed a plan.

I needed an escape.

Thankfully, an interruption arrived via a knock on the door, providing a glimmer of hope. “Enter,” my father commanded.

Roger entered the room, and awaited the signal that would grant him permission to speak. “Sir, Viktor is needed. There’s been some trouble,” he reported.

I didn’t bother excusing myself for this urgent matter. Just politely tipped my head and strode out.

As soon as I left the office, I quickened my pace until I was practically running, as if pursued by the hounds of hell. “Where am I needed?” I inquired, my curiosity piqued.

Roger shrugged. “Nowhere. I just thought you needed a moment to yourself. Take a swim and clear your head. I know you have received some shocking news.”

I glared at Roger, resenting how well he knew me. He was practically a father figure, having raised me more than anyone else. Although he had imparted essential survival skills, my father had handled the bulk of my discipline.

Once outside, I made my way to the lake and stripped down completely, swimming vigorously, my body aching from the exertion. My foot brushed against the lake’s bottom, and I realized I had swum to the other side. Rather than heading back immediately, I pulled myself onto the banks and lay down, uncaring of who might see me, or that I might freeze to death.

That swim worked wonders to settle my spirit. If I were to marry a woman and father a child, I would do it on my ownterms. I would choose the woman, and she would be the polar opposite of what my father desired in every way.

I returned to the other side of the lake, where my clothes lay, and found my would-be fiancée waiting for me. Suppressing my internal rage, I adjusted my features. After a cold swim, I was always vulnerable. This was my sanctuary, and she was intruding on it.

“Your father wants you to return after you’ve finished your business,” she informed me. “I am apparently to occupy myself for this meeting. I had not been invited to attend.”

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