Page 112 of Mafia and Scars

I tug at the fabric, desperate to make it looser, but it doesn’t budge. The neckline slips lower, baring more skin, and a horrible, hot wave of shame crashes over me.

My throat burns. The mirror wavers as tears well in my eyes. I try to blink them back, but they spill anyway, slipping down my cheeks and onto the silk.

Stupid. I’m so stupid.

I slump onto the edge of the bed and press my shaking hand to my mouth to smother a sob. I wanted tonight to beperfect. Viktor went out of his way to plan this, and now I can’t even wear the beautiful gift he gave me without falling apart.

The door creaks open.

“Avelina?” His voice is low, careful.

I jerk my head up, horrified. “Viktor, don’t come?—”

But he’s already inside the bedroom. His eyes narrow when he sees me, my arms wrapped tightly around myself like I can hold all my broken pieces together.

“What happened?” His voice is a growl, but underneath the roughness is something frighteningly tender.

I shake my head. “It’s fine. I’m f-fine.” But my voice cracks, betraying me.

He kneels in front of me. Viktor. The terrifying, untouchable man everyone fears, kneeling at my feet. “Tell me,” he says.

My words tumble out. “When I was at the skating academy, the coach used to say…stuff.”

“Like what?” he asks in a soft tone.

I shake my head. “It’s stupid…”

“No, it’s not,” he reassures me. “Please let me help you.”

I take a deep, shuddering breath. “He said I was…was fat. He told me that was why I couldn’t get a good enough height on my jumps. But no matter how hard I tried, my body always held me back...” My chest heaves with the sobs I’ve been holding in for years. “And this dress, it just—makes me feel like he was right. That my bodyis ugly.”

I can’t help Gennady’s words rushing through my mind…

“Call that a decent jump? You stupid cunt!”

“You are bursting out of that skating dress. Your body is fucking repulsive.”

“You keep stuffing yourself with food. You have no self-control. I’ll have to tell the staff to cut your calories again. From tomorrow, you’ll only be allowed six hundred calories a day. Keep messing up your jumps, and I’ll cut them even more, you fat fuck!”

Viktor goes very still, his jaw flexing like he’s barely holding back fury.

“He was wrong.” His voice is a rough whisper. “Your body makes me crazy for you every time I see it. You’re a real-lifegoddess. And I feel fucking lucky each day that I get to spend with you—like I’ve won the lifetime jackpot.”

He cups my face in his huge hands.

“You are beautiful. Strong.Perfect.” His thumbs sweep away my tears.“And I will destroy anyone who ever makes you feel like that ever again.”

A broken sound escapes me as I fall into his arms.

And Viktor holds me like he’ll never let go.

Later that afternoon, I take a pile of folded laundry upstairs to put away. Pushing open the bedroom door, I see another cream box. I halt in my steps. It’s bigger than the last one. My forehead wrinkles in confusion.

Setting down the clean laundry, I wipe my palms against my jeans before slowly opening the box.

There’s another sapphire blue dress.

But under it…