Victorious: A Dark Mafia Romance (Deviant Series Book 2)

by Angela Snyder

  Sitting up, I take off my shirt, and huddle under the thick blankets with her, pulling her into my arms and allowing my body heat to comfort her.

  It feels right having her here with me, almost like we never left off from where we were…even though things have drastically changed between then and now.

  I gently kiss her forehead and whisper vows of protection into her ear. I tell her that I’ll always be there for her and that we’ll be together soon.

  But I know that when Victoria gets better and finds out the things I’ve done, she’ll never forgive me. And even though I’ve been trying to mentally prepare myself for that moment, I know I’ll never get over the fact of losing her again.

  I already lost her once. And I don’t think I could survive letting her go a second time.

  “Stay with me, Victoria. Always,” I breathe against her cool cheek.

  CHAPTER 16

  VICTORIA

  THE DOOR CREAKING open wakes me up, and all I can think is…will this be the last time? Will they actually drown me this time?

  Two big, burly men wrestle me out of the blanket on the cold, concrete floor and drag me out of the room and down the hall.

  I bite and scratch and scream, because I know what’s going to happen next.

  There’s a large tub full of water in the middle of the room, and they immediately take me to it. The water is black this time, unlike all the times before. I can’t even see how deep it is. And before I can even take a breath, my head is forced into the water.

  Struggling, I fight against the men as I try not to breathe.

  I can feel myself getting lightheaded and gasping for air.

  I can’t breathe!

  I can’t breathe!

  “Victoria!” Someone screams my name, and my eyes fly open. I’m in a dark room. Is it the same room they kept me in?

  My fingernails are clawing at my throat as I gasp for air. “I can’t breathe!” I yell, my voice high-pitched and hysterical with panic. “I can’t breathe!”

  Strong hands wrap around my arms and pull my hands away from my neck, holding my arms at my sides. “You were dreaming, Victoria. It was a nightmare! Just a dream,” he says hurriedly.

  It takes me several moments before I’m able to calm myself down. A coughing fit takes over then, and my sore lungs throb in pain with the force of it. It feels like knives are stabbing me from the inside.

  A large hand moves to my forehead. “Fuck, you’re burning up,” the voice says.

  My vision blurs as I reach for the hand. “Arlo?” I ask the darkness.

  After a pause, he answers, “Yes.”

  I instantly begin to relax. “You carried me away to heaven,” I tell him, remembering what happened before the bad dream.

  Arlo’s hand slips out of mine as he tells me, “I’m gonna go get the doctor. I’ll be right back, Victoria.”

  I want to tell him not to go, but I’m too tired to keep my eyes open. So, I drift off to sleep once more.

  CHAPTER 17

  DAMON

  I CAREFULLY WATCH the doctor adjust Victoria’s meds through her IV and check her vitals.

  “She’s not getting better. Why is she not getting better?” I ask with a growl. But the question that I really want to ask is What are you doing wrong?

  I thought I had hired the best doctor. Fuck, he’s here under duress, so he has all the motivation he needs to make Victoria well again. As we speak, my guys are currently keeping tabs on his wife and children. They’re on strict orders not to hurt them unless I give the word.

  Doc told ‘em he had an emergency with a patient to deal with and that he’d be gone for a few weeks.

  His family doesn’t know they’re being watched or that their lives depend on what happens here with Victoria. Only the doc knows how much danger they’re really in.

  So why isn’t he helping Victoria? Does he want his family to die?

  “I told you it was going to be an uphill battle,” he grumbles. “Sometimes we have to get worse in order to get better.”

  I scrub a hand down my face as I pace the room. The plush, pink carpet is wearing thin where I’ve been pacing day after day. “I don’t want her to get worse. I want her better. I want her healthy. I want her back to normal!” I demand, slamming my fist down on the small, white vanity in the corner of the room. The painted wood cracks under the force.

  “I’m a doctor, not a miracle worker, Mr. Romero,” he retorts.

  “Well, you better learn how to make some miracles work here fast, Doc. You know what’s at stake,” I remind him.

  His face turns grim as he gives me a sharp nod and says, “Of course I know what’s at stake.” Turning back to Victoria, he checks her temperature for what seems like the millionth time today. “I want her to get better just as much as you do. My wife and kids’ lives depend on it,” he utters solemnly.

  Packing away his medical bag, he tells me, “I’ll be back in an hour to check on her again. Call me if anything changes in the meantime,” before leaving the room.

  After the door closes, Victoria’s ragged breathing fills the room. She struggles with every breath, and it guts me every goddamn time.

  “Fuck,” I whisper, dragging a hand through my hair. Glancing around the room, my eyes fall upon the small bookcase beside the vanity. There are tons of books here that Victoria read as a young girl. Hell, I can remember her even reading some to me when we were kids.

  God, I wish I could go back to that simpler time when we were young and innocent and everything was right in the world…or so we thought anyway.

  Her and I would lie outside on the grass and look up at the sky, trying to find shapes and animals inside the fluffy, white clouds.

  And then Victoria would read to me. I never paid attention to the words much, though. No, I was too fascinated by her soft, melodic voice. Even back then I was in love with her. I just didn’t know what love was at such a young age.

  Taking out a worn copy of Pride and Prejudice, I carry it over to her bed. Relaxing beside her and stretching my long legs out in front of me with my back against the padded headboard, I open the book and begin to read to her.

  I’m not the best reader in the world, and so I stumble over some of the words. My education didn’t continue after I fled from the burning house next door. And let’s face it, I was more worried about my next meal than learning subjects like English and math.

  I continue reading anyway, pushing through the harder words by sounding them out or skipping them altogether. I don’t know if Victoria can hear me, but I hope the familiar words bring her some kind of comfort.

  CHAPTER 18

  VICTORIA

  I WAKE UP gradually, as if I’m stuck in some kind of dreamlike state. It takes a few moments for me to become fully aware of my surroundings. It’s daylight, and the warmth from the sun streaming through the sheer, white curtains feels like heaven on my skin.

  It takes me a minute or two to realize I’m in my old bedroom in my father’s house. I glance at the pink walls and frilly, white curtains and realize nothing has changed since I lived here when I was a little girl.

  The hell I endured is finally over, and I don’t even remember being rescued. I feel like I’ve just awoken from a nightmare, but the aches and pains of my body tell me that I was very much in reality.

  I honestly feel like I got hit by a Mack truck…and then the driver backed up and ran over me again.

  It hurts to sit up. Hell, it hurts to even breathe. My lungs feel weird, like they’re full and pressurized. Coughing sets them on fire, so I try to calm my breathing so I won’t trigger another cough.

  I’m so happy to be out of that living hell that tears of joy leak out of my eyes. I truly thought I was going to die there. In fact, I was mentally prepared to do just that. I was ready to check out, for good.

  The bedroom door opens, and I expect Marco or maybe even my father to step through it.

  But the man who actually steps over the threshold has me blink
ing rapidly to clear my blurry vision, wondering if I’m still dreaming.

  “Damon,” I manage to spit out, my voice gravelly and weak.

  He stops at the sound of my voice, clearly surprised that I’m awake. “Victoria,” he utters. The sound of my name on his lips has me feeling a myriad of emotions that I just don’t want to experience right now.

  I close my eyes, effectively blocking the image of him out. “How did you…how did you get in here? Does my father know you’re here?” I ask.

  Damon waits until my eyes open before giving me a nod in response.

  So the two of them must have been working together to get me away from Nolan Farrell. At least my father had put his pride and need for vengeance on the backburner to help Damon.

  “Did you…did you rescue me?”

  He nods again.

  I faintly recall being lifted and carried away in his arms, but it all feels like some distant memory to me now even though it happened probably only a short time ago.

  His brows furrow as he gently closes the door behind him and leans against it. “Victoria, there’s a lot we need to talk about…”

  I almost scoff at his declaration. There’s a lot we need to talk about? That’s the understatement of the year. I feel like I’ve been in the dark for so long that I can’t even tell which way is up anymore.

  I want to know it all.

  I want to know everything.

  “But I think we should wait until you’re feeling better before we have that talk,” he says, finishing his thought.

  I nod in agreement. My entire body from head to toe is killing me, so the last thing I want to do right now is find out about all the deceit and corruption Damon and my father have been involved in over the years.

  “Did my father make it home from the hospital?” I ask.

  “Yes. Yes, he did,” he answers soberly.

  I worry my bottom lip between my teeth. I’m not sure if I can bear to see my father right now. I remember his confession well. It’s stuck with me throughout these past couple of weeks. “He told me what he did. That everything you said was true. Damon…I’m sorry.” Tears well up in my eyes, and they’re quick to fall. “I’m sorry for what happened to you and your family. To Sara,” I say, my voice cracking on his sister’s name.

  Damon’s eyes dip to the floor. “You shouldn’t be sorry, Victoria. You did nothing wrong.” His green eyes meet mine once more as he says, “You were a kid back then too. There’s nothing either one of us could have done to change what your father did. And I’m sorry. For everything.”

  His apology means so much right now. He has no idea. I close my eyes, savoring his words, but I have a hard time opening them back up again. I’m not sure what’s in my IV, but the medicine must be making me sleepy. My eyes begin to flutter shut against my will. “I don’t want to sleep,” I whisper groggily to Damon.

  “Don’t worry,” I hear him say. And then I feel his hand wrapping around mine. “I’ll stay with you, Victoria. Keep you safe. Always.”

  * * * * * * *

  THE NEXT TIME I awake, I’m alone. But the warmth of the bed beside me tells me that Damon was just here.

  I didn’t have any nightmares, and I know it’s because feeling him by my side kept them at bay.

  My bedroom door opens, and I expect Damon to enter, but instead a man with a stethoscope around his neck walks in. He’s tall and older with dark hair that’s gray around the temples. He has kind, gray eyes and a gentle smile.

  “Hello, Victoria. I’m Dr. Warner. I’ve been taking care of you ever since your…ordeal,” he says after pausing to search for the right word to use.

  Ordeal isn’t exactly how I would describe what I went through, however. I would say I survived a trip to Hades itself and back again.

  “Is it okay if I examine you? I’d like to listen to your lungs and check your vitals.”

  “Sure,” I utter.

  The next several minutes are spent with Dr. Warner asking me to take deep breaths, which is extremely difficult to do, and him taking my blood pressure and temperature.

  “You’re doing a lot better,” he says, giving me a kind smile. “I think we can even take out this IV and start giving you oral antibiotics and medicine as needed for pain.”

  He goes to his medical bag on a chair in the corner of the room and comes back with some alcohol swabs, gauze and tape. I turn my head as he goes to work on removing the IV and taping me up.

  “Thank you,” I tell him.

  “You’re welcome,” he says before gathering up the used materials and throwing them away. “If you need anything, I’m just down the hall. And I’ll make sure the staff knows what medicine to give you with your meals.”

  So the doctor is living in the house, probably on call twenty-four-seven. And I assume he’s taking care of both me and my father, so I decide to ask him, “How’s my father? Is he doing all right now that he’s home?”

  Dr. Warner furrows his brow. “I think that’s something that you and Mr. Romero should discuss. I’m afraid I’m not privy to that information,” he tells me before leaving the room.

  His words stay with me for a long time after he leaves. Once again, I feel like I’m being kept in the dark about something. But what?

  Maybe my father hired his own doctor or team since his injuries were so serious.

  That’s the only plausible thing I can come up with right now. And since Damon said we’ll talk about everything when I’m better, I’ll just add it to my ever-growing list of questions.

  CHAPTER 19

  VICTORIA

  OVER THE NEXT several days, I’m starting to feel better, and my appetite has grown considerably. It’s as if I can’t get enough food shoveled into my mouth, and I can feel myself getting stronger. Even the treatments with the respiratory therapist for my lungs are helping, and it doesn’t feel like a knife is stabbing me inside my chest every time I take a breath.

  I’m not one-hundred percent better, by any means, but any improvement at this point feels like a milestone on the road to a full recovery.

  Damon has stayed by my side throughout it all, rarely leaving except when absolutely necessary, and it’s been nice having him so close.

  Even after everything that happened, I still love him. And every day, my broken heart mends itself little by little.

  After we eat breakfast together in my room, I tell him, “I’d really like to take a shower.” The sponge baths I’ve been getting from the nurse aren’t really cutting it, and I feel like a grimy mess.

  Damon rubs at the back of his neck. “Nurse isn’t here right now, and doc said you’re not supposed to be left alone.”

  “Then…can you help me?” I ask softly.

  His eyes meet mine before he nods in affirmation.

  Peeling back the layers of comforters, since I can never seem to get warm enough, Damon helps me from bed. My legs feel like jelly, and he supports most of my weight as he takes me to the adjoining bathroom.

  “Dr. Warner told me the therapist is coming tomorrow,” I tell Damon. Now that my lungs are in better shape, I’m looking forward to physical therapy and getting stronger. I hate being dependent. If I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s that you can’t depend on people, because they almost always disappoint you.

  I lean up against the counter and brush my teeth quickly while Damon turns on the water in the shower and tests it to make sure it’s not too hot. Then, he helps me strip out of my clothes. Once I’m naked, he slowly takes off his clothes.

  His chiseled chest and abs have my thighs clenching in response. It’s been so long since I’ve touched him or felt him inside of me that my body’s immediate reaction is to jump his bones. Luckily for him, I’m too weak to do that right now.

  He helps me into the shower, and I lean against the tiled wall. Damon is so gentle with me as he wets my hair, shampoos it twice and puts in conditioner. The ministrations of his thick fingers massaging my scalp has me moaning out loud.

  �
��Feels so good,” I whisper.

  The smell of peaches fills the shower as he adds body wash to a washcloth. He washes my back first since I’m leaned up against the wall. And then, he pulls me to him so that my back is resting against his front as he begins to slide the soapy cloth over my neck and shoulders. When he reaches my breasts, my nipples are so hard and sensitive as the cotton slides over them that I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out.

  He continues down my stomach and to the apex of my thighs. And feeling the coarseness of the washcloth skim over my clit has me tensing up and panting. A groan escapes my lips as he washes me, grazing over my sensitive nub.

  “Victoria,” Damon growls in warning, and I know he’s almost at his breaking point. His cock swells against my ass, and I grind myself back against him like a cat in heat. “We can’t do this right now, not until you’re better,” he says sternly, but I can hear his resolve starting to break.

  He continues washing me, but this time he keeps his distance. And then it’s his turn, but he washes himself, much to my dismay. My greedy eyes peruse his wet, naked body as he soaps up every inch of his hard, muscular form.

  Damon catches me watching him, and he flashes me his signature smirk. “You look so pretty when you pout,” he says.

  Turning his back on me, he rinses off, leaving me even more frustrated when I catch sight of his incredible, muscular ass.

  By the time we’re done with the shower, I’m so turned on that my mind feels foggy with lust. Damon dries us both off, wrapping me up in a towel before carrying me back to bed.

  He stands a few inches away from me, his hands curled into fists at his sides like he’s forcing himself not to touch me.

  Feeling bold, I let the towel fall open, revealing my naked body to him. Damon’s eyes wander over me before finally resting on my face. He looks at me with a pinched look on his face like he’s in pain.