“Really?” I asked, my voice just above a whisper.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “And, even when changes happen and your body changes, I know without a doubt that I’ll love it.”
I blinked back tears, looking away.
“You can work out as much as you want. If you like it. But there’s nothing you need to change,” he added.
I nodded, and he took my hand again.
“I could just come to lift the lightest dumbbells as an excuse to watch you do your thing,” I joked, and he laughed.
“You don’t need an excuse to see me,” he clarified. “Anytime. Anywhere. I’m all yours.”
“I’ll have that in mind,” I said, chuckling.
“And we’re done with our partial tour,” he stated, leading the way back to the sitting room.
“Why? Thank you, Mr. Tour Guide,” I greeted, kissing our intertwined hands.
“I’ll cut off the hand of any tour guide you greet like that,” he uttered.
“I only kiss people who are special to me.”
“You’re doing something to me, Emilia. Deep inside of me,” he revealed in a low tone, taking my second hand with his.
“You do it to me, too,” I confessed, my eyes locking on his before I looked towards the perfectly set table.
“Let’s eat,” I urged.
Our meal was an affair of little munching and more glancing as thoughts of my dad crept into my mind. I wondered where he was being held captive and the condition he could be in. Viktor’s glances didn’t stop finding me, and I didn’t stop smiling back in assurance.
“You ate less than your usual dainty size,” Viktor noted, and I chuckled in response.
“Some days are like that,” I told him.
He stood and held his hand out for me. I took it, rising to my feet.
“Emilia,” Viktor muttered as he entered our bedroom after me. “Talk to me.”
The vulnerability in his gaze gutted me. I didn’t like the feeling of shutting him outside my feelings.
I turned around to face him, and my hands found his waist as he closed the space between us.
“My Dad, too, has disappeared now. I feel abandoned,” I let out, my breath shaky. “It feels like I’m worthless.”
“You are not worthless,” he corrected, gripping my arms.
“Look at me, Emilia,” he demanded, lifting my chin. “You are mine. And that makes you untouchable. Hell, you’re more valuable than I am.”
His strong gaze rested on me like he dared my demons to challenge him.
“Thank you,” I whispered, breaking the silence.
“Your father owes some political factions money, just like he owes the Bratva. Apparently, he’s refusing to pay up. From the look of things, they are the most likely to have your father.They might be sending you these threats to hurt you in a bid to get money from you for them to recover your father’s debts,” he explained.
“But where do they expect me to get any money from? If my dad couldn’t pay, they should know I can’t have more money than he does.”
“You are married to the Bratva boss, that’s all the information they need,” he answered, a small smile on his face. “How rich do you think I am for senators to borrow from me? His rivals know there is no limit to the funds you have access to by virtue of being the Bratva queen.”
