Page 58 of Debt to the Mafia King

“Get in, Leah.” He held out a hand. “Before I forget my promises and bend you over right here.”

I rolled my eyes. Maybe the making love comment meant nothing at all, and he was still the same Viktor.

“So you wanted to be a ballet dancer?” Leaning back against the tub, his arms stretched wide, Viktor eyed me. There was a smile playing on his lips. “Were you good?”

I blushed. He was teasing me, but honestly, I didn’t mind. I would take teasing over cold indifference any day, and the last hour had been nice.

He seemed genuinely interested in learning more about me. It was only when I asked him about himself that he clammed up again. Still, this was a good start.

It actually felt like we were a real couple—kind of.

“I never had a lesson.”

Throwing back his head, he laughed, and I flicked water in his direction, which just made him laugh even more.

“Why didn’t you take classes if it was a passion?”

“We were too poor for that. I used to try to copy what I saw in videos, but it wasn’t anything serious.”

The laughter died. His face turned completely serious.

“Then, when I was twelve, I had to get a job. I took a few community dance classes, but they were always on days I had to work and honestly—”

Viktor leaned forward, sending water splashing over the side. “You should have spent some of the money on glasses. You have the body of a dancer, the grace. I think you would have been an excellent ballerina.”

“There was food to buy and bills to pay, Viktor. I couldn’t waste money on dance classes. Some dreams aren’t meant to come true.”

He lapsed into silence, his eyes studying me. “I can pay for your lessons.”

Laughing, I shook my head. “That’s sweet, Viktor.” I leaned forward and brought my face close to his. “But I’m too old to start classes now. Thank you, though.”

Reaching out, he slid his fingers under my hair and drew me even closer.

More water hit the floor as I moved my legs over his and drew our faces together. It was my turn to kiss him.

“You don’t like me buying you things, do you?” He asked against my mouth.

“I don’t understand frivolous gifts,” I shrugged. “I’m sorry if that sounds ungrateful, but my upbringing was so different from yours. I wasn’t handed everything I wanted on a silver platter.”

His eyes darkened. “My childhood wasn’t so great either, Leah. You met my father. Does he seem like the doting father type?”

I had met him, and no, he didn’t.

“My mom was a sweet woman, and I loved her more than anything,but in the end, she left me as well,” he shuddered. “Father said she left because I was unlovable. Because I was a failure.”

A crack appeared in his frosty exterior, and I held my breath. There was so much pain in his voice. Pain he had held in his chest for thirty years.

“You’re not a failure, Viktor, and you are very lovable.”

The corner of his lips twitched. “I’m surprised you think so. Shouldn’t you hate me more than anyone?”

“Probably, but I don’t.” Cupping his face, I kissed him again. “Now you know what I wanted to be when I was a kid. What was your dream?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t have one. I always knew I would take over from my father. I was trained from a young age to do that,” he shuddered.

There was something he wasn’t saying. Something that had happened to him as a child that he couldn’t bring himself to say out loud.

Smoothing my fingers down his face, I forced him to look at me. “You don’t need to tell me if you’re not comfortable, but I want you to know, you can trust me. I’ll keep your secrets and guard them.”