Page 6 of Owned By the Mob Boss
He hands him over to Anton, who now stands at the door. “Cut his throat and drop him in the river.”
Anton simply nods, stone-faced, and drags my attacker from the room.
My knees nearly give out. The sound of my heartbeat in my ears reassures me that I’m still alive. I brace myself against the wall and drink in a deep breath.
And that’s when Viktor turns to me. What I just saw terrifies me, but I’m also tingling all over. I have goosebumps, but they’re not from fear.
This man could kill me.
Heownsme. But he just saved me from something terrible. Knowing his reputation, I doubt anyone would believe me if I told them.
Carefully, like he’s doing his best not to scare me, he walks over and looks down at me.
“Are you okay, princess?”
No, I’m not okay. My world is spinning.
“Y–yes,” I stammer, doing my best to nod. But Viktor sees right through me. He knows I’m anything but okay, and he comes right over to me.
My hand looks like a doll’s compared to his as he takes it and strokes it gently. His skin is rough—hard like him. But the care he displays for me, especially after committing such a violent act, has my heart aflutter.
“That wasmymistake,” he says. “Craig was one of my enforcers. He got too drunk last night, and I let him stay here to sleep it off. I should have known better now that you’re here. It won’t happen again.”
Is he looking for forgiveness from me?
“I–Thank you,” I stammer. A hint of his scent slips into my nose, igniting something inside of me. And somehow, I’m able to look up at him without my whole-body trembling.
“No.” He shakes his head. “No need to thank me. I promised you that you’d be safe here, and I intend to uphold that promise.”
A thrilling sensation grabs my chest. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to focus. I’m experiencing a sensory overload. Adrenaline is still pumping through me from the attack, but Viktor’s hand on mine is doing all kinds of other things to me.
“Let me make it up to you,” he finally says, shattering the silence.
“W–what do you mean?”
“Breakfast. I’m actually a good chef.” He snaps his fingers, and a man enters, pushing a large rack filled with clothes. “Get dressed and join me in the kitchen. It’s down the hall on the left.”
Before I can respond, he’s walking out the door. This is a man who is used to being obeyed. It’s not even a question to him whether or not I’ll do as he says.
“They should all be your size,” the man says to me. “Let me know if you need anything else, and it will be provided for you.”
And just like that, he’s gone.
My jaw drops when I see the clothes hanging there for me. Everything designer—luxury beyond anything I could ever imagine. I eye a coffee-colored dress that probably cost more than two months’ rent for our apartment.
It’s sleek, sexy, and unlike anything I’ve ever worn in my life. And part of me thinks I should be offended. How dare he suggest I put on something like that for him?
But a bigger part of me takes over, and I reach out and grab it. My heart pounds heavily as I slip out of the towel and into the dress.
I don’t know why, but I want to please him.
Viktor Morelli, the man who bought me from my father. I want to make him happy. I want to be a good girl for him.
Am I losing my mind?
3
VIKTOR
