The house was too quiet, like the walls themselves were holding their breath.
Lila stood in front of the mirror, fingertips grazing her collarbone — the spot where Viktor's mouth had hovered the night before, close enough to feel his breath, but too far to satisfy. He left her aching, trembling, wanting — and she hated him for it.
No, she thought, hating was too easy.
What burned inside her now wasn't just hatred — it was something darker, something born from the twisted heat between them. He wanted her afraid, helpless, craving his approval like a starving pet. But she wasn't just a girl anymore. Not after what life had done to her.
If Viktor wanted a fight, she'd give him one — not with her fists, but with her body. She'd make the predator beg.
She pulled off her dress, letting it fall to the floor like discarded skin, standing in nothing but sheer lace panties, her breasts bare, her skin glowing in the moonlight. The girl in the mirror was a stranger — one who understood that her body wasn't just a curse.
It was ammunition.
The door creaked open behind her. She didn't turn.
Viktor stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, shirt unbuttoned, cigarette hanging from his lips. Smoke curled around his face like a demon wrapped in shadow.
His eyes raked over her body, slow and deliberate, the kind of stare that could peel skin from bone.
Are you lost, Lila?
His voice was silk stretched over a blade.
No, Lila said softly.
I was waiting for you.
His brows lifted slightly, but there was no smile.
Just dark hunger tightening his jaw.
Is that so?
She turned then, facing him fully — bare, unashamed, her chin lifted in defiance.
Her pulse pounded so loud it shook her bones, but she didn't falter.
She walked toward him, hips swaying just enough to make him notice.
Viktor didn't move. Didn't blink. His fingers curled tighter around the cigarette, knuckles white.
When she reached him, she plucked the cigarette from his mouth and took a slow drag, exhaling the smoke between them like a whispered dare.
You want to own me?
She murmured.
Then earn it.
Viktor's nostrils flared, and for the first time, his control cracked — just a little, just enough for her to see the monster beneath the man.
His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around her throat, pushing her back against the wall hard enough to rattle the paintings.
Careful, little girl,
He warned, voice low and dangerous.
You don't know what you're playing with.
Neither do you, she whispered back, her lips curving into a wicked smile.
She lifted one leg, her knee brushing his thigh, then higher, until her bare skin pressed against his belt buckle.
You think you scare me? After the life I've had? Men have taken from me my whole life. Do you want to take it too?
Fine.
Her fingers curled into his shirt, yanking him closer until their mouths were almost touching, her breath ghosting over his lips. But you'll have to beg for it.
Viktor's eyes went dark, black-hole dark, a predator's fury barely leashed. His grip tightened on her throat, making her gasp, but her hips pressed into him anyway — soft against hard, fear tangled with want.
Careful what you wish for, he said through clenched teeth.
Why? Afraid you'll lose?
She taunted.
That snapped something inside him.
His mouth crashed down on hers — not a kiss, but a punishment. Teeth, tongue, bruising force. Lila whimpered, but she gave as good as she got, biting his lower lip until she tasted copper.
He shoved her against the wall, hands rough as they slid down her body, fingers digging into her thighs. You want to play this game with me, Kiska? he growled against her throat. Fine. Let's see how far you can go before you break.
Lila arched into him, breathless and burning, her nails raking down his back hard enough to leave marks. Break me, she dared. Or let me break you.
Viktor laughed — dark and cruel, but there was something else in it too.
Admiration.
Lust.
Obsession. You have no idea what you've just started.
He spun her around, pressing her face against the cold glass window, her breasts flattened against the surface, her body exposed to the night. His hand slid down her spine, slow and possessive. Look at you, he murmured. A little girl pretending to be a queen.
I'm not pretending, I'm real to you, Mr Mafia,
She whispered back.
I'm just not afraid of the king.
Viktor's fingers dipped between her thighs, finding her already wet, and his breath hissed through his teeth.
Liar!
He said softly, dragging his fingers up her inner thigh, smearing her arousal against her skin.
You're terrified. And it's making you wet.
Lila's cheeks burned, but she didn't look away.
And what does that say about you?
She whispered. That you need a scared little girl to get hard?
Viktor's grip on her hip tightened, bruising. It says I like my prey with teeth, he growled. Now, open your legs before I make you.
Lila turned her head slightly, her smile with a devil seduction fragrance.
Make me.
Viktor's patience snapped like a rope pulled too tight. He yanked her hips back, bending her over the vanity, his body caging hers. His breath was hot against her ear as he dragged her panties down her legs, leaving her bare beneath him.
You asked for this, he whispered, voice dark with promise and hope.
Now take it. Now take it all. See if you can bear this body you say you possessed.
And he gave her exactly what she wanted — not tenderness, not love — but possession, raw and ruthless. The way Viktor likes her to be.
Every thrust was a claim, every bite a brand, every whispered curse a reminder that she belonged to him. Only Viktor, no one else in this world.
But what Viktor didn't realize — not yet — was that with every touch, every brutal kiss, she was owning him too. Every touch was making Viktor wild and brutal.
Like an animal full of temptation.
Lila didn't break.
Neither fall apart.
She burned.
And Viktor — Viktor was the one who would choke on the flames.