Arranged Mafia Daddy

Chapter 4Sage

4

Sage

I wake up quickly, the events of the previous night flooding back into my mind like a bad dream. I turn over, expecting to see Viktor beside me, but the bed is empty. The sheets are cool where his body once lay.

The morning light filters through the heavy drapes, casting a soft glow across the room. It’s nothing like a nightmare in here anymore. It’s like I’ve woken up in a five-star luxury hotel.

I sit up, pulling the sheets up to my bare breasts as I look around the room. The sense of dread from the night before lingers, but there’s also a strange, unsettling calm.

Viktor isn’t here. I can’t even smell his cologne.

I wonder why he would leave me here alone, but I don’t dwell on it. I take the opportunity to get out of bed and search for my clothes. I’d rather not still be in the nude when he inevitably returns.

I’m pretty sure he kept his hands off me last night, but I feel like that won’t last. He’s a hungry beast, and I must look like a delicious snack to him. Why else would he have chosen me as his new wife?

It makes me wonder how many other women have experienced this before me. How many innocent women have been dragged into his den with the promise of marriage, only to be cast aside when he finds his next victim?

I can’t be the first. This feels too easy for him, too casual. He walked into my house like he owned it, and took me like it was nothing to him. He’s psychotic, and being physically attractive doesn’t make up for it. Not even close.

As I scan the floor, my heart beating fast and my thoughts racing again, I realize that the clothes I left aren’t there anymore. Not only that, but I hear footsteps coming down the hallway.

I jump back, grabbing the sheets off the bed and wrapping myself in the slippery silk. I hold my breath as the footsteps stop in front of the door for a moment, and then there’s a light knock.

Before I can answer, the door opens, and I’m surprised to see a woman step inside. She’s dressed in a loose blue dress and is carrying a tray with a stack of clothes on one side and an arrangement of breakfast food on the other.

Her expression is polite but distant as she floats across the room and sets the tray down on the bedside table. “Good morning, Miss Sage,” she says, her voice smooth and professional. “Mr. Viktor asked me to bring you breakfast and some fresh clothes. He had to leave early for a meeting, but he’ll be back soon.”

“Oh,” I reply, not knowing what else to say. “Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she replies with a smile that screams customer service. I doubt it’s genuine. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“Yes, actually,” I say, still rooted to the same spot in the middle of the room. I lift my chin up, trying to sound confident. “I’m being held prisoner, and I’d like you to call the police.”

She stares at me for a moment, her expression unreadable, and then she smiles again. “You have a delightful sense of humor, Miss Sage. I will let Mr. Viktor know that you’re waiting for him when he comes home.”

With those words, she turns around and leaves the room. I hear a loud click of the door being locked, and then her light footsteps back down the hallway.

I curse under my breath. She almost seemed normal, but now I’m certain she’s in on this with Viktor. Nobody is going to take my side and believe that I’m a victim, and if they do, they’ll simply not care.

I drop the sheets from my body, leaving them on the floor as I walk over to the bedside table. The stack of clothes waiting for me isn’t the same ones that I wore here. When I put my hand on them, they feel unbelievably soft and well-constructed. These must be expensive.

Unfolding the dress on the top of the stack, I realize that it’s from a very prestigious brand, one that’s only financially viable if you’re rolling in more money than you know what to do with. I guess the wealth Viktor displays isn’t a carefully crafted illusion. He really is filthy rich.

I slip the dress over my head, reveling in the way the fabric feels against my skin. The dress is beautiful, a deep emerald green that feels much more saturated than anything I’ve ever worn. It fits me perfectly, hugging my curves in all the right places, but it’s also more revealing than I’m used to. The neckline plunges a bit too low for my comfort, and the hemline sits higher on my thigh than I would normally wear.

I glance at myself in the mirror, turning from side to side. There’s no denying that I look attractive in this dress, but I worry about the implications. Viktor will see me in this and want me even more. The thought sends goosebumps down my legs, a mix of fear and unwanted excitement.

I run my hands down the sides of the dress, smoothing out the fabric. It’s impossible not to feel a bit more confident, a bit more powerful in such a beautiful outfit. But I know that my confidence is fragile, easily shattered by Viktor’s looming presence.

Pushing my worries aside for a moment, I turn my attention to the breakfast tray. The smell of freshly brewed coffee makes my stomach growl. I hadn’t realized how hungry I am until now.

I sit down on the side of the bed, taking a sip of the coffee and savoring the rich, dark flavor. I always preferred black coffee, and Viktor seems to know that. There isn’t any cream on the tray, just a bowl of fresh fruit and a piece of bread with butter already spread across it.

I eat like I’m starving, shoveling everything into my mouth because it tastes so good. I’ve never had anything quite so delicious. Do rich people get tired of eating like this? If not, how do so many of they stay so slim?

I suppose they can afford the best trainers and doctors, so calories might be an afterthought. Imagine being able to eat however much you wanted, and never gaining a pound.

As I finish off my breakfast, my mind returns to Viktor. Will he be pleased to see me in these new clothes? Will he take it as a sign that I’m submitting to his wicked rules? The thought makes my stomach churn, but I push it away, focusing on the simple pleasures that I can gain from this awful experience.

I close my eyes for a moment, wishing this would all go away, but when I open them, the opposite comes true. My worst nightmare is standing right in front of me.

I nearly fall backward onto the bed. “Viktor! How did you get in here?”

“Like everyone else. I floated through the wall,” he replies with a cheeky grin.

I shake my head, unsure if this is real. He came in so quietly that I’m suspicious he might actually be a ghost. “My eyes were only shut for a moment,” I say. “Don’t do that again. It’s creepy.”

“I’ve been working on my stealth,” he replies, still smiling.

“Why?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest as his eyes drift down to my cleavage. “And don’t look at me like that. It’s also creepy.”

“Well, that’s exactly why,” he says, the smile dropping off his face in an instant. “I’m a creep, as you say. That’s what creeps do, isn’t it? But I wouldn’t expect you to care about the real reason for what I do. That must not interest you at all.”

He’s trying to get me to feel sorry for him, which is laughable, considering he’s the cause of my misery. There’s no guilt buried under my distaste for him, no glimmer of empathy for a man who only wants to use me.

“I’m not falling for your manipulation,” I say, standing up from the bed. I feel like I’m still sitting down, though, because of how tall he is.

He shrugs, turning away from me and walking over to the dresser near the door. “There’s no manipulation happening here, darling. I was going to offer you a little peaks into my life, some honesty in my world of smoke and shadows, but that’s something you’re not interested in, so I won’t force it on you.”

I sigh. “What are you talking about?” He spins around suddenly, another cheeky smile on his face. “Come with me tonight. I want to show you one of my casinos. I’ll even let you toss the dice, if you can behave yourself.”

His proposal is insensitive, considering my dad almost lost his life to his gambling problem. Maybe he’s just trying to rub it into my face, to show me how powerful he is based on how many lives he’s ruined.

Then again, I should be collecting information about my new enemy. It’s unwise to separate myself from him to the point where I don’t know who he is and how he thinks. I have to get into his head if I’m ever going to get the upper hand on him.

I lower my hand from my dress, letting him catch a glimpse of the soft skin that comes together in an alluring crevice on my chest. It’s just about the only thing that I have that holds any power over him.

“I think I might join you, if you behave,” I say, trying to fake a suggestive smile. “But so far, you’ve not been very good to me.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Have I not been? I had food and clothes brought to you. I let you sleep in, when I could’ve woken you up when I got up, which was three in the morning, I might add.”

“I need more than that,” I reply, playing hard to get. “Maybe a few million dollars and a long vacation.”

He snaps his fingers. “Anything is yours… after the wedding. Our honeymoon can be as long as your sweet little heart desires.”

“I prefer solo vacations.”

“Well, that, I can’t grant you. It’s no longer safe for you out there in the world. Demons will chew you up and spit you out like old gum,” he says, turning back to the dresser and opening it.

“Demons?” I ask doubtfully, thinking that he’s the only demon I’ve met in my life.

He fishes something out of the drawer, holding it tightly in his hand without showing me. He turns around, his eyes flashing with a devilish blue tinge. “Yes, darling. Demons. When you’re the wife of the most powerful man in the city, they want you more than anything, which is why you can never go out alone again.”

I look at his hand, wondering what he’s holding. No, what he’s hiding from me. He’s definitely hiding it.

His eyes smile at me, but his face remains stagnant.

I look from his hand to his face again, shaking my head. “I’m not your wife. I’m not even your fiancé yet, so let’s save all the dramatic demon talk for a later date? I can take care of myself.”

He lifts up his hand, and as he does so, begins to lower himself to the ground, bending his knee. “I think it’s time we change that, Sage. Don’t you?”