Page 69 of Debt to the Mafia King
“I mean,” he continued, and he didn’t seem to sense my sudden change of mood. “We will have a little one to spoil.”
My eyes darted up to his face. “Oh.” Smiling a little nervously because I couldn’t say what I had been thinking without changing the mood completely, I carefully unwrapped the present. I smoothed out the paper neatly on my lap until I could see the box inside.
“What is—” Opening it, I turned to Viktor, confused. The box was empty apart from a small white card. I turned that over.
Everything.
That’s all it said in neat curving writing. Just that one word.
“Viktor?”
“All the other things are bits I picked up before I got to know the real you. Expensive, fashionable things, you probably won’t like. This,” he leant forward but didn’t touch me. “This is what is important, Leah. This is my promise to you. If you let me, then I am going to give you everything.”
He sounded so sincere, and my stomach flipped with nerves I couldn’t explain, even to myself.
Was he saying he cared for me?
“You’re the mother of my child. A beautiful woman who is carrying my heir. I am going to give you everything you want or need. Nothing is too big. The contract is—well, that doesn’t matter anymore, does it? I’ll make sure you are looked after for the rest of your life because you have given me the best gift a man could ask for.”
The contract.
“I’ve actually got you a present as well,” I mumbled. “It’s nothing like this. Just something silly, but—” standing, I grinned down at him.
“You didn’t need to get me anything, Leah. Like I said, you have given me the best gift already.”
“It’s just something silly, wait right here.” Not looking back, I rushed towards the kitchen.
It was weird to find it empty, but then he said the staff had the day off. It made me wonder what we were going to eat, but one look in the industrial-sized fridge and that question was answered.
It was full to bursting with salads, potatoes, and cold cuts. The cupboards were the same. It looked like they had stocked us up with every Christmas delicacy from around the world, and right in the corner, in a small Christmas-themed tin complete with a bow, was what I was looking for.
Snatching it up, I headed back to the main living room to find Viktor lying back with his ankles crossed on the arm of the chair.
His eyes darkened as he watched me come towards him. “Have I told you how beautiful you look right now?”
Blushing, I shoved the tin into his hands
“I’m sorry it’s not more. And you don’t have to eat them—”
“You made me cookies?” His eyes widened as he picked one up.
“You don’t need to eat them.”
Too late. He took a huge bite, and his eyes widened even further.
I held my breath.
“You made me my mom’s Christmas cookies?” He said when he had swallowed.
“I mean, they probably aren’t that good,” I shrugged. “I tried. That’s why I was in the kitchen all the time. I was practicing. Cathy said the cinnamon ones were your favorite and—”
He cut me off. “Why would you do this?”
I swallowed hard. “I don’t know,” I said in a rush. “I just wanted to give you something. I know they are probably rubbish, but you have given me so much, and don’t eat them. I’ll throw them in the trash.”
I made a move to grab the garishly iced cookies, and he snatched them back with a growl. “Don’t you even think about it,” he warned, and a smile spread across his face. “I mean, I might share some with you, but these are delicious, Leah, so I might not. I can’t believe you did this.”
“You really like them?”
