A Sugar Daddy’s Secret

by Kathleen Hill

  The subject changed to Viktor’s sister. Elena was a gorgeous woman, more so than Leighton. Her husband had died defending Viktor’s father. The stress sent her into labor. Santos told Leighton that both Elena and the baby had died in childbirth. The guards seemed to have a much different story. They claimed Elena had been tortured by Santos to get information. He presumed she would know who her husband and father gave information against Santos to. She died by Santos’ hand and the baby, a girl, was given to the church for disposal. One of Viktor’s goals was to find the child, his niece and only surviving relative.

  Leighton was sick. None of this could be true. Santos was a loving father. He would never kill or torture a helpless, pregnant woman. If the baby was really alive, he would have raised it as his own. He adored children. He had always wished for more. The man the guards referred to was not the father she knew, loved and respected. Viktor must have filled their heads with lies in order to make them his puppets. If not, then her entire life was a lie. She refused to accept that this was the truth.

  Chapter 4

  Viktor insisted Leighton have dinner with him at the dining table like a civilized woman. She wasn’t ready to face him. She was still trying desperately to wrap her brain around the things the guards had spoken of. How could she have been so wrong about her father? Maybe, he had betrayed Viktor’s dad, but there was no way he would torture a woman, especially one carrying a baby. The guards were wrong or lying to upset her. That wasn’t possible though. They had no way of knowing she had understood their Italian. So why lie?

  When she didn’t come to the table, Viktor decided to fetch her himself. He was growing tired of her disobedience. He had shown undeserved respect to a man he hated just to make her happy, yet she remained hostile. That would end tonight. He burst into her quarters without knocking. She sat on the bed, dressed in a white negligee. She reminded him of an angel. He hesitated briefly, then straightened his shoulders and decreed, “Get up. It’s dinner time and you will come to the table as I requested.”

  She stretched her slim body out on the bed, revealing the negligee’s transparency. Viktor blinked and shook his head to clear the impure thoughts that immediately sprang to mind. Her Cheshire grin told him that she had noticed his reaction and reveled in her power.

  Leighton ran her hands through her silky hair and replied, “A request can be denied and I’m afraid yours must remain unfulfilled.”

  Viktor had no desire for games. He covered the distance to the bed in long purposeful strides. Grabbing her by the hair, he forced her from the bed. “I guess you’ll be eating dinner in your nightgown.” He towed her to the table and put her in a chair. She spit in his face and he returned the gesture. Their tempers had always been equal.

  “You can force me to the table, but you cannot make me eat,” she declared.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. You can sit there and watch me enjoy your favorites—honey glazed chicken, twice baked potatoes, green beans with bacon, and for dessert hot apple pie with ice cream. Try not to drool. It’s unladylike.”

  Leighton tossed her cloth napkin in his face, but gave in to temptation and filled her plate. “Why did you do it?” she asked. “Why did you hate Santos? He let you work for him even though your father betrayed him. He treated you almost like a son.”

  Viktor stopped eating and stared at her face. He replied, “Do you honestly want to hear the truth? It may shock you. My father’s only crime against Santos was allowing a ship’s captain to live. The ship’s cargo was drugs for your father to sell all over the world. Santos wanted the captain killed so he could never give that information to the FBI. The man had a wife and three small children. My father refused to allow his death. He helped him escape. The FBI already knew about the shipment. They had been watching Santos for a long time. In exchange for a large bribe and half the cargo, he convinced the FBI to charge my father with the crime and make sure he died while trying to escape.”

  “It is a good story, but untrue. Someone has filled your head with lies. You killed my father and his men for no reason. There is no proof of what you say.”

  Viktor’s anger boiled. He shouted, “You want proof? I’ll give it to you in spades! I think it’s time for your innocence to end. Follow me.”

  He took her to a room in the center of his basement. It required his palm print to open the lock. Inside were computers and surveillance equipment. Shelves held recorded discs marked by date. “Take a seat. Most of what you see here came from Santos’ vault. He kept everything he ever recorded in case it could somehow save him. I think he actually enjoyed looking back at the disgusting things he did. Let’s start small and build up to the real deal.” He made a selection and popped it into the computer. “You weren’t even born when this was recorded.”

  On the screen, a young Santos laughed as he cut off a man’s finger. His words made Leighton cringe. “You have no need for this hand. You can sign over the deed with your right one. I will continue to dismember you until you sign.” Viktor chose recordings randomly, each was worse than the one before it. As Santos aged his cruelties grew.

  “I’ve seen enough,” Leighton whispered.

  “No, the most important one is yet to be seen,” Viktor replied. The date on this one was the year he had turned seventeen. “I witnessed part of this one without realizing it. I heard the screams, but didn’t understand what was happening. I blame myself for not saving her.”

  A very pregnant Elena was sitting tied to a chair by her hands and feet. Santos was asking questions about her father and husband. He demanded she give up the names of those that had received information about his operations from her family. She kept denying that they were informants. Santos swore she was lying. He began to torture her. Leighton turned away from the screen and begged, “Stop the recording! I can’t take anymore.”

  Viktor forced her head to turn back to the screen and held it there. “What you are feeling is nothing compared to what Elena endured. Watch it to the end and see the truth beneath Santos’ facade.”

  Leighton sobbed when Elena went into labor. Her water broke and mixed with the blood on the floor. Barely conscious, she was placed on a table. The baby slid from her body along with her last breath.

  “He knew after the first few moments of torture that she was telling the truth. The rest was for some sick form of revenge or enjoyment, not information. Santos deserved to die a much slower death than I gave him. But, that would have made me just like him.”

  Chapter 5

  “Where’s the baby?” Leighton asked through her tears.

  “I don’t know. Santos’ records show she was given to the church for disposal. She was clearly alive, so I pray that means she was given to a family. I intend to find her,” Viktor declared.

  “Let me help you. I can speak to the nuns. They know and trust me,” Leighton implored.

  “Why would you offer your aid? Elena and the baby meant nothing to you,” Viktor retorted.

  “That’s not true. Elena was good to me. I had no mother and she was there when I needed one. I mourned her death, though I thought it was from natural causes. Maybe, if I find her child it will redeem me in your eyes and make up for my father’s actions. I must do something.”

  “Ah, the princess has finally awoken from her fairytale.” Viktor smoothed the hair from her wet face. “I’m sorry. That was a cruel thing to say. Santos hid his evil well. You shouldn’t be punished for not knowing the depths of his villainous behavior. I welcome your help. The nuns will speak more freely to you than a mafia leader.”

  The journey to Leighton’s quarters was a subdued one. Their sniping was over. Their attraction was not. There was a sizzle in the air between them. They usually dealt with it by arguing. With the absence of anger their other emotions arose.

  Once inside her room, Leighton placed her hand over Viktor’s heart and said, “If I had known, I would have tried to change it all. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Viktor put his hands on the ch
eeks, this time gently. He leaned in and kissed her swollen lips. The soft kiss turned volatile. He put every ounce of pain, loss, and sadness into it. Leighton responded. She would take all that he had to give if it would ease his pain. She owed him that much.

  His hands found her breasts through the soft, transparent negligee. He fondled them roughly. Leighton purred like a kitten and unbuttoned his silk shirt. His muscular chest was smooth and hairless, allowing her palms to slide over it with ease. When she found a nipple, he bit her bottom lip gently.

  Emotion overruled his head. Viktor ripped off her negligee and let it fall to the ground. Her full glory was revealed. The rosy tips of her breasts pointed toward the sky. The plump orbs were ripe for picking. Her tiny waist flowed into voluptuous hips and long legs. Her center had been waxed and begged to be touched. Losing all sense of control, Viktor lifted her from the floor and tossed her onto the big bed. He followed her down with a growl. Attacking her breasts, he suckled each one with an intensity that had her weeping with desire. His four-o’clock shadow left red streaks on their whiteness. Leighton shoved his head downward. He obeyed her instructions and kissed his way to her slick center. As his tongue swept over her nether lips, she raised her hips and spread her legs wide. Wet and ready, her scent pushed him over the edge. He devoured her. His tongue and teeth were relentless. She begged for release, but he kept her on the ledge. Finally, his tongue plunged deep and she flew.

  On and on it went, until exhaustion claimed her. Her insides still pulsing, she tugged on his hair and he rose over her. She tasted herself on his tongue and it was glorious. Her hands slipped past the waistband of his pants and she kneaded handfuls of his back side. His fly rubbed against her mound. She wanted more and apparently so did he. He stood and swiftly shed his pants. She was pleased to find he wore no underwear. She preferred her men to go commando. His shaft was long, full and hard—exactly the thing to fill her emptiness. But first, she wanted a taste. On her knees in the bed, she took him into her mouth. His silken member twitched as her wet warmth surrounded the crown. She licked the salty drop from its tip. A gasp from Viktor made her smile and take him deeper. One hand slid up and down on his shaft, while the other gathered his balls and gently squeezed. A finger slid behind them and found a spot that nearly had him coming unglued.

  Viktor had reached his limit. He needed to be inside this wild woman. He lifted her from the bed and she wrapped her long legs around his waist. His member sunk to the hilt in her hot wetness. Their bodies slapped together in a rhythm as old as time. Sweat poured down their chests. Wanting more control, Viktor allowed them to fall onto the mattress. He pushed deeper until there was no farther to go. Faster and faster he moved. Her scream of release was still ringing in his ears, when he let go and filled her with the hot liquid of his sex. They stayed joined until they came down from their sexual high.

  Viktor rolled away, leaving Leighton chilled by the air conditioner. She felt his mind leave along with his body. He donned his pants and picked up his shirt. Glancing back, he gave her a single nod and a smile. Then silently left the room. There was no click of a lock. She was a prisoner no longer. He trusted her not to leave. She had no wish to go anymore. There was nothing left for her outside these walls. Her past wasn’t real and her future was entwined with Viktor’s search for the niece he had never met. Once she was found and reunited with her uncle, Leighton would seek a new life.

  Viktor was appalled. What had he done? Leighton was his one chance at becoming Santos’ successor. She was meant to be his wife. Had he ruined all hope of her cooperation with the recordings and the rough sex? She had to know the truth, but it shouldn’t have been in such a harsh manner. Anger had gotten the best of him. The sex was amazing, but why had she allowed it? She didn’t love him and never could after what he had done to her family.

  Chapter 6

  Leighton ate breakfast alone once again. Viktor had not joined her for an entire week. In fact, she hadn’t seen him at all since the night they had given in to their passion. His absence was explained to her by one of his men. Viktor was handling Santos’ business dealings. With Leighton ensconced at his complex, he obtained the clout needed to control the mafia. It was a balancing act and his reign could be usurped at any time. Trust had to be earned and competency must be proved. Leighton understood his need to oversee every deal and transaction, but she couldn’t help wondering if he was avoiding her as well.

  She decided to use her extra time and freedom to begin the search for Elena’s child. Convincing her guards to take her to visit the nuns was difficult. Though she understood Italian, she couldn’t speak it fluently. The cook spoke both English and Italian and had to serve as interpreter. Eventually, she got her message through and was taken to the church.

  The nuns were cordial, but quiet and reluctant to talk. Santos had been feared by everyone in Brazil, the church included. Leighton assured them that there would be no repercussions for answering her questions. Santos’ reign of terror was over. The nuns showed confusion when she asked about an infant brought to them by the mafia. They had never seen or heard of such a child. The little ones they cared for came from the streets—dirty, starved and alone. They agreed that Leighton must be mistaken, but promised to ask the villagers if they knew of the infant.

  Having run into a dead end at the church, she made the quick choice to go back to her home and search her father’s office for clues. Viktor had men guarding the house. They insisted on informing him of Leighton’s request to enter the compound. He asked to speak with her and the guard handed over his phone. “What is it you are looking for? I’ve had the house and grounds searched and everything of importance is in the locked room in my home.”

  Leighton replied, “Your men weren’t looking for clues to your niece’s whereabouts. They wouldn’t recognize the shorthand my father sometimes used. I can do both. The nuns had no clue as to what I was talking about. Despite Santos’ order, the baby wasn’t given to them.”

  Viktor was grateful and touched. Her honest concern and help in the search for Elena’s daughter brought out some feelings he couldn’t give a name to. “You may search anywhere you please. I will tell the guards you are always allowed in the compound. I’m sure the reading of the will is going to show it belongs to you anyway.”

  Leighton was disappointed in the conversation. She had hoped to hear some emotion in his voice. Either their night together had meant nothing to him or he was keeping his feelings tucked away. It had meant something to her. She just couldn’t put it into words. Perhaps, he was having the same problem.

  Her former home felt cold and empty. There was no sound or movement anywhere. She steeled herself to step into the ballroom where her life had changed. There was no sign of the massacre. The room was pristinely clean and set up as it had always been. That night could have been a dream if not for the grave she had dropped roses into.

  Her father’s office held his masculine scent. His aftershave lingered in the air. She sat in his leather chair and tears sprang to her eyes. “Father, why did you do such awful things? I loved you and would have forgiven you almost anything. Wasn’t my love enough? We had more money than it was possible to spend in twenty lifetimes. You didn’t need to kill for more. I saw the joy in your face as you tortured those people. Where does such evilness come from? Did mother know? I hope she was oblivious and is resting peacefully.”

  Wiping away her tears, she began her search. The desk drawers held receipts, pens, a pistol, and a photo of her mother holding the newborn Leighton. Why it was hidden in the desk she didn’t understand. The center drawer had a lock, but it was broken. Viktor or his men had gone through it. Inside was a tablet. Its pages filled with indecipherable squiggles, Santos’ version of shorthand. It had been ignored by Viktor as a useless piece of junk. However, Leighton could read it. The first pages were appointments and acquisitions. The names of businesses she recognized were joined by a list of names. She assumed these were the men Santos had defeated or killed. M
idway through the tablet, she hit pay dirt. Elena’s name jumped out at her. The note referred to her as a necessary casualty. Leighton’s hands shook as she continued to read. The mention of a crying infant and the decision to allow it to live made her heart pound. Had he truly considered killing an innocent baby? She began to feel a hatred that she had never thought possible. The notes included the orders to send the baby to the church, but squiggled in the margin was a correction. The night had been stormy and the streets flooded. The church couldn’t be reached. The baby had been given to a servant to care for until the storm subsided. The servant disappeared overnight, taking the infant with her. Santos didn’t care as long as it was gone from his sight.

  So, the nuns had never been notified of the situation. Viktor’s niece was with an unknown servant. It would be much harder to find her, yet Leighton would do it. She would go into the village and ask every man and woman who had served in Santos’ home for information. Someone out there knew who the former servant was and why she had taken the baby.

  Leighton took the tablet with her. It might hold more clues within its pages. Her loyalty was now to Viktor. Her father’s own handwriting had damned him in her eyes, more so than the recordings.