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I huff.
Viktor tilts his head at me, coming closer. “Has anyone man seen you naked before, Gemma?”
“Oh, loads.”
“Really.”
Of course not, but he doesn’t need to know that. In fact, no one has seen me naked, except my mom, and that was when I was a kid and needed a bath.
“What am I a bargaining chip for?” I ask instead, hoping to direct the conversation somewhere else.
“For Marco. I want to work with him, and he refuses. But since he doesn’t have any family of his own, I went for the next best thing. His wife’s family. Or more like, his wife’s favorite sister. You. I know it will cause the golden couple pain. Pain enough to force Marco into working with me to save you. Once he realizes the good we can do together, then …” He shrugs. “The rest is history.”
“But I’m just Marco’s sister-in-law. I’ve only spoken to him on holidays. We’re not close. He won’t risk himself for me.”
“Maybe not. But for Emilia? Oh, he’d do anything. And I know your sister will want you returned safe and sound. So, once Marco agrees to strike a deal, you’re free to go.”
I know he’s right. Emilia will fight to the ends of the earth to make sure I’m ok. She’d do it for any one of us. And I’m just now realizing I’d do the same for them. “And until then?”
“Until then …” His eyes rake me up and down. “Until then, you’re mine.”
A shiver passes through me, though it’s not necessarily one of disgust. Viktor is ridiculously handsome, and he has an intoxicating energy about him, even if I despise him. There’s no winning here. Viktor will get what he wants, and right now, he wants me. If I show him my body, maybe he’ll leave me alone long enough for me to find another way to escape.
“I can’t do this standing.”
He nods at the bed. I sit down and meet his gaze as I slip the straps of my dress down, revealing my bra. Viktor doesn’t even look at my body, even as I take my dress all the way off. He just keeps his eyes locked with mine.
“The underwear, too,” he says, still not looking below my neck.
I swallow hard, unclipping my bra. Then my fingers rest on the waistband of my underwear. This is it. My last shred of protection. With a deep breath, I take my underwear off.
“Stand back up.”
I do, resting my hand on the bed to take the weight off my ankle. Viktor approaches me, still not removing his eyes from mine. I force myself to hold still as he lifts his hand to hover over my collarbone. I glare at him, daring him to try something. If he does, I’ll knee him in the balls, hurt ankle be damned.
He smirks before turning away. I blink. Uh… what? He didn’t even look at my body. Honestly, after going to all that effort, I’m a little disappointed.
He reaches down and grabs something from under his pant leg. When he stands up and turns around, I see it’s a small knife. Shit. He’s going to kill me. He’s decided I’m not worth the effort; I’m too much for a bargaining chip, and I’m going to die.
He nods at the bed. “Sit down.”
I do as he says.
“So compliant when you’re scared. Interesting.” He kneels down before me and grabs my right leg. I shiver at his touch. His gaze finally sweeps over my body and rests between my legs. I try not to squirm as he pushes my right leg out. When he presses the knife to my inner thigh, a small squeak escapes me. “Scared, Gemma?”
“You have a freaking knife against my leg. Yeah, I’m scared.”
He knicks my skin, drawing a tiny amount of blood. I watch in horror as he pulls the knife away and licks the tip, tasting my blood. “Hmm. Yummy.” With a wink, he stands up and goes into the ensuite bathroom.
I cover the small cut with my hand, feeling it sting. What the hell was that about? Viktor returns and tosses a band-aid at me. “I don’t want you getting blood on the sheets. I just cleaned them.” He watches eagerly as I grab the band-aid and cover the cut.
“Now, what?” I ask, trying to hide the fear in my voice. It doesn’t work.
“You have a beautiful body. I could lick you all over.”
A throbbing flash hits me between my legs. Shit. I can’t be turned on. No, no, no, no.
… I think I am, just slightly. I blame it on the fear going through me. I’m sure arousal can be mistaken for fear. God, I hope so.
