Viktor had never been a patient individual. It was Lila's morning when she was invited to a table too massive for the little run-down stinking hole – Viktor. The glass full of wine placed on the table had more than halfway been consumed, with blood-like crimson coloring, and mirroring the dim sun trying to penetrate the broken window.
Lila curled her hands into a clasp and stood stock still, a tense movement that indicated fear. Her tightly laced dress, which easily cinched two sizes tighter than around her svelte body, dug into the rib cage beneath. In defiance of great odds, she felt as if her heart pumped so tightly that it might easily be audible by Viktor, who stood so still in so still a room.
He reclined at the table as a king in a foreign land, untroubled by the squalor that clung to the walls. Viktor was no normal man; he was a warning sign, carved in flesh and metal. His coat dangled over the back of the chair, his black shirt and rolled sleeves visible, the discolored forearms crisscrossing veins and scars woven into a tapestry. His table setting consisted of his signature knife; a wine glass accompaniment had been polished and shining.
His words brought animation to the stillness. With every utterance that spilled forth from his lips, air was displaced, as if a fierce storm.
"I'll take you away from this location," he said casually, fingers gliding over the edge of the glass. "Each trip in my universe comes at a cost, though," he smirked.
Lila, a deer in headlights, is overjoyed but frightened. She: This little girl in a provocative dress, eyes glazing blankly into space, the impenetrable faces of the parents contorted into a facade for every glance. A flash of desperate emotion, the parents deliberately chose not to capture them. Compositions of representatives waiting for the last act. And so suddenly… with their next transaction.
For Lila, the circumstance had been a potentially death-bringing dilemma she longed for and wished dearly. While the aftermath of her existence was known to have been sinister. Despite a too-thin mixing, a razor-sharp hope still clutched in my hands.
Their response was more than the way she clutched at Viktor with terror in her eyes spoke volumes.
Lila's arrival at the house unveiled the truth that it was not at all as she had envisioned as a child. Contrary to fantasy, it was still rather nice. Yet, it was also as if a wolf dressed in silk with a desire to eat up the prey. Black-carpeted halls were shimmering as if lit by chandeliers, and the air had a scent of expensive-grade perfume that effectively covered up gun oil, cigarette smoke, and the faint smell of blood.
Viktor's two wives were the ones who controlled the territory.
Her icy beauty could be well-described as "ice." She's a towering figure with platinum tresses styled immaculately into a ponytail, lips painted into a color a little too crimson, the color of freshly cut roses. Ice fragments are pale and glinting, but hers are pale and glinting. There was a sneer that disguised itself as a smile when Tatiana regarded Lila, adding a flashing glance over her body with cold eyes. Every move of Tatiana's limbs conveyed elegance sharpened into a weapon.
Sofia was blazing compared to ice-frost-coated Tatiana. Her body sported silk gowns cut too high and chestnut tresses disheveled. Sofia's angular cheekbones set sharp eyes dark enough to swallow the room, her purposefully stunning beauty, much like a knife hidden in a lavish trinket. Sofia, unlike Tatiana, did not go out of her way to hide how much she disliked other people.
She smiled and waved hello to Lila as Viktor chose and took her over.
"She's very beautiful," Sofia said bluntly.
Similar to a stray kitten, cute but not alone until she claws.
Tatiana's smile had turned into ice.
Kittens don't last long in this kingdom.
Lila stood still as the heart drummed inside her throat. Eyes such as theirs only regarded her as a minor threat; a young beauty with little experience and just remodeled with the express purpose of catching the notice of Viktor. In a beneath-the-surface way, the truth was that notice meant money in the kingdom of Viktor.
Viktor said absolutely nothing, with his dominant hand resting only on the small of Lila's back, guiding her further into his realm – a realm in which compassion had worth and thanks did not exist.