Chapter 5
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I may gain fifty pounds, but that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.
Lukas
Marching into Viktor’s room without knocking, I throw my workout towel on the floor before I toss myself onto his bed.
From his desk, where he appears to be writing, he turns and raises a heavy brow. “Hi…?”
“Do you have any psychology books in your library? I haven’t been in there in a while.”
“Why do you need psychology books?”
“Clara’s amess.” I plunge my fingers into my hair, close my eyes, and picture the terror and confusion rioting on her face. She’s never been kissed before, yet she would have let me doanythingI asked. Just because I’d asked. Her sense of obligation and this horrific role of submission she’s been subjected to leave her as a husk of a person—afraid, cautious,obedient. To any end. To every fault.
I am horrified for her.
Fighting the nausea swirling in my stomach, I mutter, “How do I foster self-esteem in a woman who neither has nor appears capable ofwantingany?”
“What are you going on about?” Viktor asks.
“Clara!” I sit up on my elbows. “It’s like she was living in a cult, Viktor. She doesn’t seem able to think for herself. She’s just waiting for people to tell her what to do, and I don’t know how tofix it.”
Dryly, he stares. “I thought obedience was a favorite trait of yours.”
My fists clench. “Not like this. Obedience means nothing if she can’t choose it.” Itallmeansnothingif she can’t chooseme.
Viktor turns back to his computer, types a few more lines into the document open on it. “You’re twisted, Lukas.”
Spoken like an idiot who thinks I don’tknow that. Why does he think I’ve come to him for help? I’m more than aware that I’m not capable of doing anything good on my own.
Maybe I’ve come to the wrong brother and should be asking Kaleb for advice instead. He has more experience with women than Viktor. Maybe he’s even dealt with Claras before.
On the other side of the room at a different desk, Crisis cusses, and I startle, because I didn’t realize Viktor’s fiancée was still here.
It’slate.
Just how workaholic are these two?
Swinging her chair around, Crisis faces me. “Justbefriendthe girl. You can’t force someone to respect themselves, but you can show them what it looks like to be treated well. If you treat her well, she’ll come to some very important conclusions all by herself, in time.”
I twitch. “Crisis, I appreciate the faith in me, but I’m not sure I knowhowto treat people well?”
Her arms cross. “Treat them how you want to be treated.”
I’m positive that would scare the living daylights out of most normal human beings. I crave adoration on scales that are not mentally well. Treating Clara how I want to be treated would mean supplication.
Kneeling for her, bowing to her, kissing the ground by her feet because I’m not worthy to touch my lips to her skin but Ineedto touch my lips to something her skin has touched.
The way I want to be treated is obsessive, all-consuming, and mentally…twisted.
It’d scare her even more.
Viktor snorts.
I mutter, “Shut up.”
