Page 48 of Debt to the Mafia King

“Yes, I do, but then you leave, and I remember that I’m nothing to you but a paid whore.”

My eyes flashed. “You’re my wife.”

“But you still leave. It makes me feel cheap and disgusting. The way you treat me makes me feel like I’m an animal.”

Silently, I stared at her. “Is this what these tears are about, Leah? Because I don’t stay to snuggle with you after we have sex?”

For the space of one heartbeat, she stared me directly in the eyes, and then she dropped them to the table. “You don’t call me Printsessa anymore. Why is that, Viktor? Why did you stop?”

I walked away and didn’t look back. It was only when I closed the door to my office that I finally let myself breathe.

Were all of those tears, tantrums, and escape attempts because I didn’t snuggle and call her cute pet names? Surely Leah knew that I wasn’t that type of man?

I didn’t do cute. I didn’t do gentle. I had to be strong.

I banged my head against the closed door and groaned.

“Trouble in paradise?” Ivan asked.

“Everything is fine.” Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself for the day ahead. No doubt Leah would try to run away again or do something equally as infuriating.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Viktor. But everyone in this house knows that things aren’t just fine. The girl is miserable here.”

“She has everything she could ever want or need.” I threw myself into my office chair and reached for the crystal decanter. To hell with whoever said you shouldn’t drink in the morning.

“Is that what you really think, because from where I’m sitting, it sounded like she wanted to be your wife.”

My eyes narrowed. “She is my wife.”

“But you don’t treat her like one. Would it kill youto be kind to the girl?”

Kind to the girl? I downed the amber liquid in my glass. It was five o’clock somewhere, right?

“She hasn’t done anything to make me think she deserves my kindness.”

Across the desk from me, Ivan groaned. “Leah, isn’t Corrinne, Viktor. Why not give her a chance?”

Chapter Seventeen

Leah

Poking my head through the kitchen door, I sucked in a shocked breath. The kitchen was all stainless steel cabinets and giant fridges. It was like something out of a restaurant and bigger than my whole apartment.

The two women inside stopped dead, both of their faces wearing mirroring expressions of disbelief to find me in their kitchen. I knew at least one of them. The older one I had seen before, we had spoken in the beginning, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember her name.

“Can we get you something, Mrs. Petrov?” The older of the two walked forward, wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist. “Maybe something to eat? Your breakfast plates came back empty.”

I blushed. Of course, my plates had come back empty. I’d been too busy coming over Viktor’s hand to eat, and then after I’d been too busy crying so hard I threw up.

Her eyes scanned my face. “Or maybe something, you look a little peaky. Are you getting sick?”

“No.” I stumbled over my words. “No, I’m not sick, and I’m not hungry. I just need something to do.”

Both women’s mouths fell open. “Something to do?”

Nodding, I forced myself to smile. “Yes. I’m bored out of my mind. I’ll do anything just as long as I’m not sitting around any longer. I hate being bored, and I’m a fast worker. A good worker.” I rambled on like this was a job interview.

“You want to work?”