Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
With hard tremors raking through my body, it takes more strength than I have to stand still and not cower back when he stops inches from me. His eyes burn on the marks covering my skin, and try as I might, I can’t stop myself from flinching when he lifts his hand and brushes his knuckles over the side of my neck.
“I’m sorry, Little Rose,” he whispers.
Hearing the regret in his voice has my eyes going wide as saucers. An apology was the last thing I expected.
His dark gaze locks on mine. “You’re more fragile than I thought.”
I wish I was stronger.
Viktor lowers his hand, then stares at me until I feel the overwhelming need to squirm.
“Stop testing my patience, and I’ll be more careful with you.”
Is he actually making a deal with me, or is it an order?
He gestures to the plate. “Eat.”
I shake my head. “I’m not hungry.”
“I didn’t ask if you’re hungry. I said eat,” he mutters, the expression on his face darkening even more.
I press back against the counter, my hands finding the granite and clinging to it.
Viktor tilts his head, and everywhere his eyes touch on my face, it feels as if my skin goes up in flames.
“Please, let me go,” I whisper.
I have no idea what I’ll do, but anything has to be better than being this man’s captive.
Slowly, he shakes his head. “The world will trample something as fragile as you. You might not believe it, but this house, staying here with me, is the safest place for you.”
Anger and frustration start to bubble in my chest. Clenching my jaw, I lift my eyes to his. “You belong to the Priesthood who killed my family. You destroyed everything I held dear. This is the last place on Earth I’ll ever be safe.”
The corner of his mouth lifts into a dangerous smirk, causing all my muscles to tighten.
“It doesn’t matter what you think, Little Rose. Until you’re twenty-one and have had time to…” He lifts a hand, brushing a finger over my jawline, “blossom, I’ll make every decision for you.”
My lips part to argue, but they’re sealed shut when he adds, “Take the time to grow stronger and mourn your family.”
My family.
I shake my head, then turn my face away from him and stare at the fridge.
I don’t want any of this. It’s madness.
How will I survive three years with this man?
Will I even make it to my eighteenth birthday?
And if I do, what kind of future lies ahead of me?
“Eat, Rosalie,” he murmurs with something akin to compassion softening his tone.
My eyes dart back to his face, but he still looks like the lethal head of the bratva who can end my life in a split second.
When I don’t move, Viktor reaches past me and drags the plate closer. He scoops a bite of food onto the fork, then brings it to my mouth.
My skin goes up in flames, and I look at the fridge again.
“I will force feed you if I have to,” he warns me.
Not wanting that to happen, my chin quivers as I take hold of the fork and shove the food into my mouth.
Asshole.
When I swallow the bite and scoop more food onto the fork, Viktor murmurs, “Good girl.”
Instant anger explodes through my veins. Before I can think it through, I grab the plate and shove it against his chest. The plate lands on the floor with a loud clatter.
Breaths heave from me. “I’m not your good girl. Don’t try to condition me!”
Instead of losing his temper, a smile spreads over his face. He looks down at the wasted food clinging to his shirt and lying at our feet, then his eyes flick to mine.
“You have one minute to clean up this mess.”
“You can go to hell,” I hiss.
When I try to dart past him, his fingers clamp around my bicep, and I’m yanked right against his side. His face is a mere inch from mine as he orders, “Clean up this mess, or I’ll spank you.”
What?
For a moment, I’m torn between making a run for it and doing as I’m told. The air grows unbearably tense, then my shoulders slump.
When Viktor lets go of me, I grab a roll of paper towels, and crouching by his feet, I wipe up all the food. I throw it in the trashcan, but then he says, “My shirt isn’t going to clean itself.”
“You’re joking,” I gasp, quickly regretting my outburst of anger that got me in this predicament.
His eyes narrow on my face. “Does it look like I’m joking?”
No. Not at all. It looks like it’s taking all his self-restraint not to carry out his threat of spanking me.
I grab more paper towels, and my cheeks go up in flames as I dab the food from his shirt.
When I toss the paper towels in the trashcan, Viktor takes hold of the back of his shirt and drags the fabric over his head in a move that’s hotter than anything I’ve ever witnessed.