Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 21139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
“I’m taking you to dinner tonight,” he finally says.
“Oh?”
“Somewhere nice, expensive. Somewhere public, where I can show you off.” He slides his hands through my hair, sending a delightful shiver through me. “Everyone will know you are mine, Bella.”
I giggle. “Bella?”
He smirks. “That’s my name for you now.”
“Is it now?”
I’m pretending to debate with him, but the truth is, I already love it.
“Yes.” He nods. “Three syllables is just way too much work.”
For the first time since we met, he smiles fully, and it’s like staring at the face of God. Apt, considering as far as New York City is concerned, Viktor Morelli is God.
My heart races at the implications of his statement. The boss doesn’t do public displays. He works in the shadows, away from the prying eyes of the law.
“Is that safe?” I ask.
He grins wider, only this time, his eyes shine, and I am instantly reminded of who I’m talking to. “Let anyone try to touch what’s mine, and I’ll paint the streets with their blood.”
I should be terrified by the casual violence in his words. Instead, I feel protected. Claimed. Owned.
“Okay.” I smile, nuzzling closer. “Where will you take me?”
“Oh, that’s a surprise, my angel.” He kisses me on the forehead before standing. As he slides out of me, I feel a great sense of loss, igniting more desire.
I watch as he walks to the shower. My God, what a physique. I never knew guys’ asses could be so hot.
I grab his pillow and bury my face in it, inhaling his scent as his warm seed drips out of me and onto the sheets. My heart is racing, and as I lie in his bed–now our bed—I am hit by the truth that’s been building in my chest all morning.
I am in love with Viktor Morelli.
The Ice Man. The king of New York. The man who holds my father’s life in his hands.
And tonight, he wants to show me off to the world.
And God help me, I cannot wait.
7
VIKTOR
She emerges from the bedroom like a dream. I nearly fall to my knees.
She’s wearing another dress off the rack I had delivered—deep burgundy that clings to her every succulent curve. A slit up one leg that has transformed her from an innocent girl to a lethal woman.
Now she’s able to be my queen.
Mine. All mine.
“Didn’t anyone tell you it’s not polite to stare?” Bella asks, her cheeks blushing near the color of her dress.
“Get used to it,” I tell her, crossing to her in three steps. I find the small of her back and pull her to me. “Every man’s eye in that restaurant will be on you tonight, gorgeous.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
A dark laugh escapes my lips. “They can look, but only I can have you. No one touches what’s mine.”
The possessiveness in my voice should have her running, but she leans into me, and I feel that now-familiar spark in my chest. The reminder that I now have a reason to keep living.
I take my queen’s hand in mine and lead her to the elevator, where Anton stands with three of my best men. They’ll shadow us tonight and handle any small problems that might get in the way of our perfect evening.
This city knows my reputation, but going out with Bella is showing weakness, and that changes the game.
“Mr. Morelli.” Anton nods, his eyes carefully avoiding my woman. Even my most trusted soldier knows better than to gaze at what’s mine.
The ride down is silent, except for the soft jazz from the speakers. I hold Bella’s hand, her fingers interlaced with mine like they were made to fit there.
We arrive at Le Bernadin, which holds three Michelin stars. It’s the kind of place senators and billionaires meet, yet the whole places moves for me.
“Mr. Morelli,” the maître d’, Frank, says with a bow when he sees me. “Your table is ready. Private corner as requested.”
Every eye in the place is on us as I guide Bella through the restaurant, my hand on her shoulder, letting everyone know she’s mine. Men stare with obvious hunger, and although I don’t blame them, my jaw clenches hard enough that my teeth nearly shatter.
Women stare too, but for different reasons. Power hungry gold-diggers in this town have been trying to lock me down for years. I never fell for any of them. Seeing me with a woman now must have their heads spinning.
“Viktor,” she whispers as we reach our table. “Everybody’s looking.”
“That’s what happens when you’re with the king.” I smile, leaning in for a kiss. “My queen.”
Forks stop moving, glasses stop clinking, conversations stop. Everyone’s watching. None of them can believe what they’re seeing.
I can see she’s overwhelmed as we sit down. She’s never been in a place this nice before, and she fidgets with her napkin, overwhelmed by the luxury.