If he’s the one who put me through all of this, then he deserves it. But I don’t know that that’s true.
I don’t even know if he had anything to do with his first wife’s death.
I don’t knowanythingfor sure about this man that I’ve promised the rest of my life to.
“Caterina,” Viktor says my name, his face suddenly very still, and I wonder if he can read my mind, if he knows what I’m thinking.
My hand is clenched, white-knuckled around the gun. I could do it. I just don’t know if it would be the right thing.
I don’t know. I don’t know. It’s all I think anymore.
Levin clears his throat from behind me, making me jump, and my fingers go loose, the gun falling to the ground. I take several quick steps back, my heart pounding, and Viktor steps forward smoothly, scooping it up off of the ground and looking towards his right-hand man.
“Is it all prepared?” he asks, and Levin nods as I look confusedly between the two men.
“What are you talking about?” My voice is still shaking a little, and I breathe in, trying to make it stop.
Viktor smiles at me, his eyes cold and dark.
“Caterina, my love, I have a surprise for you.”
CATERINA
“Caterina, my love, I have a surprise for you.”
The world feels as if it spins to a stop for a moment.
A surprise?A surprise?
“What—” The word spills out of my mouth before I can stop it, and I stare at Viktor in confusion. I don’t know whether to be afraid or not, and there’s no hint in either of their faces as to what it could be. Levin’s face is cold and unreadable, and Viktor’s mouth is curled in a cruel smirk, which tells me nothing.
My heart skips a beat in my chest, and I feel my throat constricting, my breathing coming sharp and fast as if I’m on the verge of a panic attack. A dozen horrible scenarios run through my head, and I’m so focused on the possibility of any of those being true that it takes a second for me to register what’s actually happening.
A few yards away, the door of the large shed has opened, and two men are being dragged out by some of Viktor’s soldiers.
They’re so badly beaten and tortured that I don’t recognize them at first. The larger one’s eyes are swollen shut, his nose broken and lips puffed up, and the smaller man has one eye completely shut, the other bloodshot and his jaw clearly broken. He’s making small whimpering noises as the two are dragged towards where Viktor, Levin, and I are standing. When they get closer, it’s clear from both their appearance and stench that they’ve soiled themselves any number of times.
My first reaction is pity, my gut twisting with horror that my husband ordered these things done to other people, other human beings. And then the soldiers throw them down onto the ground, nearly at my feet. The smaller man raises his head just enough to spit despite his broken jaw, a garbled word that sounds very much likebitchcoming from his torn lips.
I recognize them both then. I know who they are. And every ounce of pity flees, replaced by a wave of hot anger and bitter resentment that threatens to overwhelm me and makes me feel almost dizzy.
I sway on my feet, and suddenly Viktor is at my elbow, steadying me. “Do you like your gift,printsessa?” he asks, the smirk on his face transforming into a smile.
“My gift?” I choke out, looking down at the two men kneeling in front of me like I’m some sort of princess or a queen.
Maybe I am.My father’s princess, Viktor’s queen. It’s what I was always meant to be, what I was raised to be. A mafia princess, and now a Bratva leader’s wife. I’ve wanted to believe that my parents would be horrified to know that I’d been given to the Russians, and maybe my mother would have been. But my father would have traded me to achieve his ends even faster than Luca did, and I know that’s the truth.
The soldiers have guns trained on their backs, so there’s no chance of them trying to escape, even if they could. And there’s no point in them even trying to run. They wouldn’t get far.
Not in the state they’re in.
“I can’t believe you didn’t kill them,” I whisper. It must have taken a great deal of restraint for Viktor not to finish it if, in fact, he had nothing to do with my kidnapping.
Or maybe not. Maybe he didn’t care enough to do more than make an example of them. Perhaps the idea of them hurting his wife wasn’t enough to inspire the kind of anger that could invoke a killing rage.
Or maybe—
“I kept them alive as a present to you,” Viktor says, breaking through my thoughts. I can hear the pleasure in his voice, almost anticipation, like a predator looking forward to his next meal.