by Lylah James
And he would. He was going to find out. No, my battered mind screamed. No, my broken heart wept.
My thoughts reeled, and I shuddered even before the pain could happen.
My bodyguard, Igor—he was going to tell Valentin.
While I was lost in this man’s eyes, lost in this moment that brought me warmth, I had forgotten that Igor was standing there by the door—watching everything, watching us.
And now I had to bear the pain of looking into another man’s eyes other than my husband.
My fingers twisted in the fabric of my dress, my nails digging into my thighs as my stomach rolled, and I had to fight the urge of throwing up.
How could I forget? How could I have been so reckless and careless?
Confusion clouded my mind, and I glared at my lap. Stupid girl. It’s all your fault now when Valentin hurts you. You have no one to blame but yourself.
From the corner of my eyes, I saw his feet moving away. I didn’t dare to look up. Maybe he was leaving.
The sudden thought caused my heart to squeeze, and my chest ached—it hurt. I pressed my nails deeper into my skin, trying to stop my rains of thoughts.
I wanted to lurch forward and stop him from leaving.
Stop! I squeezed my eyes shut.
Seconds turned into minutes, and slowly my heart started to calm. The crazy, dangerous melody turned to a dull beat.
My breathing turned to normal, and my chest didn’t feel so tight anymore. When he was close to me, it felt like he had brought havoc to my heart and mind.
But now…everything felt empty again.
My eyes burned because I wasn’t sure what I wanted. The chaos he brought with him or the emptiness I felt in the darkness.
Suddenly, something dropped on my lap and I jumped, my thoughts screeching to a halt.
I froze with fear, and my eyes snapped open. I looked up, and my throat closed, my lips turning dry.
My heart did the same pitter patter dance again. The same melodious beat. The storm of emotions hit me hard, and I could only stare into his brown eyes, mesmerized yet again. Completely and utterly swept by his presence.
Just like before, he held me captive.
He hadn’t left.
He nodded at me and then at my lap. Confused, I followed his gaze.
A notebook and a pen rested there.
I touched the beige papers with gentle fingers, holding it with my thumb and forefinger. After staring at the items for a good five seconds, I looked up again.
Our gazes met and locked.
And then he smiled—a true smile—and it met his eyes beautifully.
My eyes moved down to his smiling lips. He looked beautiful—even more handsome and so different when smiling.
“Talk.”
One word and my eyebrows furrowed. The man nodded toward the notebook and pen again.
“Talk,” he repeated, looking at me expectantly.
Breaking our eye contact, I looked down at my lap again. My heart danced again, my body no longer cold.
He wants me to speak?
He wanted me to speak—not by using my voice. But with pen and paper.
Even though I was someone filled with silence, he still wanted to hear my thoughts. He still wanted me to talk.
I didn’t think my heart could get any crazier. But it did.
This man…he didn’t realize what he had just given me.
He didn’t want my silence—he wanted my words.
So I would give him my words.
Because he had earned them. With one simple action, he had earned them.
Taking the pen in my hand, I held it to the paper.
Chapter 14
Viktor
My imagination was nothing now that I was this close to her. So close that I could see the green speckles in her doe hazel eyes. She looked up at me, her eyes wide with a hidden innocence, some naivety and a hint of fire. They were the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen.
I bent down a little, until our faces were mere inches away. Her breathing quickened, a sharp intake of breath that told me she was affected by my presence. Our first touch—my skin against hers, she gasped, her eyes fluttering.
My fingertips tingled at the sensation as I dragged my fingers down her cheek and the top of her neck, where the high neckline stopped. She licked her lips nervously before biting on them softly. Her eyes were still on mine, as if she couldn’t take them away.
I found that I couldn’t stop looking at her either.
Twirling my first knuckle around a lock of her blonde hair, I tugged her closer. She came willingly, without any fight. Her body moved toward me effortlessly, like it was made to respond to my touch.
I gave her hair another gentle tug, our bodies so deliciously close. Her hair smelt of roses, the fragrance so sweet and soft. I inhaled, breathing her sweet smell in. With our noses almost touching, I said, “What happened to you, silent myshka?”
Because I knew something had happened to her. Nobody would willingly become Valentin’s wife. Especially not a mute girl who was decades younger than him.
Whatever had happened to her—Valentin had a hand in it.
She was hiding in this tower, a forbidden secret, kept away from the world—it was all under her husband’s command.
It was clear as day. But me being a reckless bastard, I wanted to play with fire. I wanted to uncover her secrets, because those that are forbidden are always more tempting, more intriguing.
The taste of something forbidden was always more delectable. And I can’t wait to taste her secrets on my lips.
Her wide hazel eyes were unblinking. She looked lost in her thoughts, her chest moving up and down with each breath—the only indication that she was feeling something. Feeling my touch and I was going to make her want it—crave it, until it was the only thing she needed.
“Do you feel this?” I asked quietly, for her ears only. Her bodyguard, Igor, was there. His stares were burning into my back. I ignored him, but that didn’t mean he had to know what we were talking about.
Our words—mine and hers, they were only for each other.
The mute girl didn’t answer my question, just like I knew she wouldn’t. She didn’t even move. Her body was a frozen statue, her mind under my spell.
The corner of my lips lifted up in a smirk. I couldn’t even stop it. This was much easier than I had thought. I already had her in my trap—she fell almost so easily that I was left wondering if I had already won.
Or maybe I had won just this round. After all, we still had a long way to go.
“I want to know what you’re thinking,” I whispered, my nose brushing against her. She blinked this time, her lips parting, but no sound was made.
Her gaze drifted to my lips and then my eyes again. My finger unlocked around her hair, and I stood back up, pulling away.
The moment was shattered as she blinked again, her eyes widening in shock. It was the same moment that I saw fear in them before she bowed her head.
I saw true real fear, her body slightly trembling. She wasn’t scared of me. If she was—she would have tried to escape before, not willingly succumb to my advances. Instead, she had let me touch her.
The terror I had seen in her gaze, it was fear of the unknown. And Valentin Solonik, the bastard, her husband, and my so-called beloved uncle, was the only explanation.
Stepping away from her trembling frame, I stared at her a second. Her hands twisted agitatedly on her lap, her fingers digging into her thighs as she tried to regain some of her control again.
Little did she know…whatever control she had before, it would all be gone now. Her thoughts belonged to me, whether she liked it or not.
She was an itch I had to get rid of. I’ll have my fun while I can. Valentin is gone…his wife is alone. And wolves like to come out and play, so I’ll play a little bit.
“You shouldn’t be here, Konstantin.”
Annnd…here we go again. Let me actually introduce myself.
&nbs
p; Viktor Konstantin Ivanshov, also known as Konstantin Solonik.
And now, I was back to being only Konstantin. Farewell, Viktor. Adieu. Until next time. I will fucking miss you. Cue sad, dramatic music.
Taking a deep breath, I turned around and faced Igor, who had rudely interrupted my moment with my mute nun.
“That’s Sir or Boss to you, Igor. You better remember that. I will not tolerate any disrespect. If you need a reminder of what your rank is and where you actually belong, let me know. I will gladly remind you,” I said slowly, making sure he understood every single word. “And please know, my ways are very different than Valentin’s.”
His throat moved as he swallowed nervously before bowing his head. “I am sorry, Sir. That won’t happen again. It’s just that Boss doesn’t allow anyone in this room. And you are also talking to her. That’s not allowed. It’s the rule of the estate,” he explained weakly.
I felt a sudden surge of anger at his words. They treated her like a fucking dog, someone not worthy. Like the lowest type of slaves. Hell, even the dogs at the Ivanshov estate were treated better than this.
My hands turned into fists at my sides, but I took a deep breath in. Fucking control it, Viktor. You’ll only get yourself killed. And everyone else.
Instead of replying or showing my moment of weakness, I scoffed and turned my back to him again. He wasn’t worthy of my attention.
My gaze drifted toward the blonde woman. The one with the most beautiful eyes, with hair so soft that I wanted them wrapped around my wrist as I fucked her pretty pussy.
This woman…she was worthy of my attention.
My dick twitched in my pants at the thought. I squeezed my eyes shut. Not yet, boy. Settle down.
I didn’t give a fuck about the estate’s rules. I was going to take what I wanted, satisfy my thirst for something I knew I shouldn’t take. Yet I was going to take it—take her. And she would be willing.
The woman who had my attention closed her eyes, her chin wobbling as if she were about to cry. Taking my eyes away from her, I looked around the room. When I found what I was looking for, I stepped away from her and walked toward it.
She was mute—she didn’t speak. Her voice was something I would never hear.
I couldn’t have her voice—but I would have her words.
The notebook and pen laid on the dresser, next to a small lamp, as if it was placed there just for this moment. Taking them in my hands, I glanced back at the mute girl. Her eyes were still closed, her body still trembling.
My heart clenched at the sight of her tortured expression. She reminded me so much of someone…
Ayla, the devil whispered in my ear. He sat perched on my shoulders, watching the show. Enjoying it. Laughing at me. She reminds you of Ayla.
Shaking my head, I tried to clear the thought of Ayla from my head. She was there…I was here, with my mute nun. I clenched my fists, my teeth grinding together in frustration.
You can’t have Ayla. But you can have this one, the devil continued whispering. He tsked at me, and I glanced at the woman sitting across the room again.
She is all yours. No one is stopping you.
That was true. The devil and I for once were in agreement.
“You can’t speak, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have thoughts,” I said out loud. Walking closer to her, I continued softly. “I want to know what you are thinking.”
My eyebrows furrowed in confusion when she didn’t show any response. Her eyes stayed closed, her head and shoulders hanging low in despair.
It appeared as if she was hiding into herself, hiding away from everything and everyone. Protecting herself against the unknown. And that included me.
Too bad for her, she didn’t have a choice. She couldn’t hide from me, no matter how much she would try.
And I sure as hell didn’t like being ignored.
Maybe I’ll teach her a lesson…on what happens when I am ignored.
Smirking at the thought, I stopped in front of her. “Are you seriously going to ignore me?” I asked, my voice low and a little rough. The thoughts of teaching her my ways got my dick excited.
She didn’t lift her head up, but when I dropped the notebook and pen in her lap, her eyes snapped open. Her lips parted with a soft gasp as she stared up at me in shock.
Her hazel eyes were wide…looking so beautifully lost as she gazed into my eyes. For some strange, fucked-up reasons, my chest tightened as I held her gaze—completely and voluntarily lost in this moment.
My heart did a crazy beat as she continued to stare up at me, as if I was the only one she could see.
I liked that…I liked that very much.
My lips pulled up in a smile—my first true smile since I stepped foot into this estate. Hell, since I stepped foot in Russia a year ago.
This mute nun was a temptress I couldn’t hide from. She got me feeling all kinds of fucked-up emotions.
Just like the devil said…she was mine to take. Someone forbidden but I could still have her.
“Talk,” I said, my head nodding toward her lap.
We had been wasting away the minutes, but now, all I wanted were her words. I wanted to see what she was thinking.
Her eyes broke away from mine and went to her lap. She looked confused for a second, staring blankly at the notebook and pen.
She fingered the papers softly and then looked up at me again. I waited, but she didn’t make any move.
“Talk,” I repeated. I knew she understood my words—she wasn’t dumb.
But as each minute ticked by, I grew both anxious and impatient. Our time together was being counted down, and she still hadn’t said a word.
Her confused eyes met mine again, and she held my gaze. I didn’t dare speak again. I just waited—letting her lead from here. The decision would be hers.
Finally, the confusion cleared from her eyes. Giving me a final glance, she then looked down.
My breath caught in my throat when I saw her holding the pen in her hand. The tip touched the paper, and I waited. My heart did that fucking beat again, clenching and then beating faster to a strange rhythm.
I hated it. I hated things that I didn’t understand—and I sure as hell didn’t understand what was wrong with me.
She looked up at me expectantly, her lips parting as if she wanted to say something, but then she closed her mouth, waiting.
When realization dawned to me, I cleared my throat and fought another smile. She was waiting for me.
“What’s your name?” I asked, my voice strangely soft.
Don’t frighten her. Be gentle and you will have her in the palm of your hand, the devil muttered. For a brief second, I imagined him crossing his legs and sipping tea in a cup, being all sassy and shit.
She looked down at her lap again, her hand moving. I peered into the notebook but saw it was blank.
I waited, but instead of writing, she handed the pen to me.
“What is it?” I questioned, taking the pen from her hand. “Is it not working?”
I expected no reaction. But she moved. Her head gave me a small single nod.
The little nun just kept surprising me. Interesting. I cleared my throat again and threw the pen across the room.
“Well, it’s useless then,” I muttered.
She nodded again, peeking up at me behind her eyelashes, almost shyly. I found it…endearing. Giving her my best smile, I fished out a pen that I always kept in my pocket.
I handed it to her without a second thought. “You can use my pen then.”
Taking the pen from my hand, she stared down at the paper. I leaned closer, until her knees were touching my legs. The small shiver of her body gave her away.
I saw the pen moving as she wrote for me. The pen stopped, and she glanced up at me before showing me the notebook. In beautiful penmanship, the letters were written in cursive.
Val
My forehead furrowed in confusion. “Val?” I questioned before hiding my laugh with a cough. “That�
�s your name? What, did your parents hate you?”
She lifted her chin up in defiance at my insult, her eyes narrowing with a slight glare. Ah, there was the fire I was looking for. She had been hiding it before—but I wanted it.
Looking down at the paper again, she scribbled quickly and then showed me the notebook again.
No. Val is for short. My name is Valerie.
Valerie. My eyes traced each letter slowly, saying the name in my head.
“Valerie,” I whispered, our eyes meeting. Her cheeks turned a soft pink as she blushed beautifully. “Valerie.”
So fucking sweet and beautiful. Just like her.
Her lips parted as she breathed in, her tongue peeking out to run over her fuck-me lips. Heat rolled over me, bathing me with fire. She really was temptress. A beautiful nun—without her voice, but a temptress still.
“Don’t you mean Valeria?” I asked, breaking the moment. That would have been the correct Russian pronunciation. Except…if she wasn’t Russian. She appeared to understand English fluently. Maybe she was American.
I saw her scowl, and it snapped me out of my thoughts. She looked very unhappy at the name Valeria, almost as if she detested it. She wrinkled her nose at me, and I chuckled. Well, damn, the mute nun was a spitfire.
No. My name is Valerie. V.A.L.E.R.I.E.
Pressing my lips together, I tried to hold my laugh in. But it was almost impossible.
She stared at me for a second before blinking away. Valerie took the notebook back before writing again. Bending forward, I peered down on the paper.
What is your na—
She didn’t even finish her question, I placed my hand over hers, and I was already speaking. She looked up in surprise.
“Viktor,” I answered quickly, without thinking.
When I heard a harsh intake of breath behind me, I realized my mistake. Fuck! Double fuck.
But just as quickly as I realized my mistake, when the corner of her lips turned up in a small, barely there smile, I forgot about Igor yet again.
She mouthed my name, and my heart stuttered.