Viktor(15)

He smiles. “Good. Well, I have something for you.” He walks toward me and hands me a packet of pads and a pack of birth control pills. “I bought these just in case you needed them.”

A bit weirded out, I place them on the nightstand. “Thanks.”

He nods, turns around, and walks back to the door. “Oh, before I forget”—he turns back toward me—“I just wanted to let you know that breakfast is ready. Viktor is waiting for you downstairs.”

“Oh, he is?” I muse, raising a brow. “He can keep waiting then because I’m not coming.”

Winston clears his throat. “I’m sorry, miss, but Viktor asked that you’d have breakfast with him.”

“Good for him, but I’m not going.” I perch on my bed again. “We done here?”

Winston’s lips part but then he closes them again. His face disappears, and the door closes again, but he doesn’t lock it before I hear him walk away.

I quickly pick up the pills and take one, determined to stay on my regimen, even if it feels weird. I open the closet and search through the clothes until I find something that fits. I change my clothes and check myself out in the mirror. My makeup is smudged, so I grab a tissue and wipe away the excess. It’s not much, but it’ll have to do. If there’s one thing I don’t wanna do, it’s go out there looking defeated.

I go back and walk toward the door. I wonder if he left the door open on purpose or if it was by accident. Not that it matters because if I’m supposed to stay here, I’m gonna explore this mansion completely, whether they like it or not. They can’t keep me locked in this room forever.

So I grab the handle of the door.

But then I hear stomping.

It’s coming closer and closer, and I let go of the door handle.

That’s when I hear him roar. “What?”

“Wait, Viktor, don’t charge at her. Take it easy on her.”

“Fuck that,” he growls.

And then he bangs the door.

The loud noise makes me step back.

“Alexis? Get out here and eat breakfast with me.”

“No,” I say. I don’t even have to think about it twice.

“Why?”

“Because you’ve been nothing but an asshole to me.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” His voice is a mix between growling and screaming.

“To you it doesn’t, but I don’t eat breakfast with assholes, no offense.”

He grunts. “You eat breakfast with me, now, or nothing at all.”

I turn away from the door. “I don’t care.”

“Are you crazy?”

“No, are you?” I taunt. “You’re the one keeping me here as a prisoner anyway.”

He pounds on the door again. “I’m not the one trespassing in other people’s homes and stealing stuff that doesn’t belong to them. You both belong in jail. I gave you another option.”

“This is the same thing,” I say. “And it’s not chivalrous.”

“At least this place is better than prison.”

“It’s a luxurious prison … but it’s still a prison,” I retort.

He grunts again, but he doesn’t say a word.

“Viktor,” I hear Winston interject, whispering. “Be. Nice.”

It’s silent for a few seconds.

“Will you please come out of your room and eat breakfast with me?” His voice is much softer now, and for some reason, it sounds kind of funny, even though it’s not. It’s not fucking funny that I’m basically a prisoner in either his home or in jail … and for what? Getting my sister out of trouble?

“It would make me happy,” he adds.

But that’s just the thing. I don’t want him to be happy.

“No, thanks.”

The sound of a lion roaring behind my door brings me chills to the bone. “Fine. Go hungry then, like I give a fuck!”

The floors rumble with him as he storms off.

I turn around, take a deep breath, and then fall down on the bed, determined not to think of my growling stomach. What a dickhead. I struggle to hold in my frustration, so I bury my face in my pillow and scream. God, I hate this. I have to keep reminding myself why I made this decision … So Alisha wouldn’t have to go to jail … So I won’t have to go to jail.

Because that’s what this is all about, right?

His desire to punish us for what we did.

For my sister trying to steal so she could help us.

For me trespassing, trying to get my sister out.

We lived the bad life, and this is the consequence.

Captured by a man who’d rather not even have me here, judging from the way he acts around me… but then why does he want to keep me? Is it to teach me a lesson? Or is there something more behind it? Because I sure as hell remember when Winston told me he liked me … I’ve never seen any man so turned on by just a dance.