𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐞 || A Mafia Love Story

xlvii

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Marlee stood silently, waiting for Viktor's return, her gaze drifting over the room. The house was vast, eerily quiet, and filled with the sort of elegant but impersonal decor that made her feel like an outsider. The bookshelves drew her attention, and she moved toward them hesitantly, her fingers brushing lightly along the spines of books. Many of the titles were in a language she couldn't understand, their thick covers worn from years of use.

Her eyes caught on something glinting amidst the dust—a photograph encased in a polished frame. She leaned closer, her curiosity pulling her in. The image showed two young boys, both with the same striking blonde hair that marked Viktor and his brother, Roman. Between them was a woman with soft, brunette waves and a warm, if weary, smile. Her eyes shone with love but carried the unmistakable weight of exhaustion. The hollows of her cheeks and the delicate sharpness of her collarbones suggested a frailty that tugged at Marlee's heart.

Viktor's mother.

Marlee reached out, almost as if to touch the lives captured within the frame, but her hand froze midway as the soft creak of a door announced Viktor's return. She turned quickly, her cheeks flushing with guilt as though she'd been caught snooping. He stood in the doorway, his sharp blue eyes flickering between her and the photograph.

"My mother," Viktor said simply, his voice low, laced with a sadness that seemed to hang in the air around him.

Marlee hesitated, unsure if she should press him further. But the vulnerability in his voice, the way his shoulders seemed to carry the weight of something unspoken, urged her forward. "What... what happened to her?" she asked softly.

He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he moved across the room, each step deliberate, before sinking into the chair by his desk. He leaned forward, his elbows braced on his knees, and rubbed his temples as though the memories physically hurt.

"She wasn't a happy woman," Viktor began quietly. His voice carried a tone she hadn't heard before—gentle, unguarded. His gaze lingered on the photo, his fingers drumming restlessly against his thigh.

Marlee moved to sit opposite him, her heart aching as she watched the tension ripple through

"My parents' marriage wasn't built on love," Viktor continued, his words careful, measured. "It was arranged—business, alliances, convenience. My father's... cruelty pushed her toward drinking," Viktor admitted, the words spoken like a confession. His eyes flicked to the photograph on the shelf. "She tried to hide it from me and Roman, but I was old enough to see the signs. To understand." He hesitated, his fingers stilling against his leg. "Roman... he was different. She loved him more. He wasn't... my father's child."

Marlee's breath hitched, the weight of his revelation settling heavily in the air. Viktor's voice grew quieter, almost detached, as though he were narrating someone else's story. "When my father found out about her affair, things got worse. For her. For all of us." He exhaled sharply, the sound bitter and weary. "I took the brunt of it. I kept his attention off Roman."

Marlee's throat tightened as she listened, her chest heavy with the weight of his confession. She wanted to say something, to comfort him.

"My mother disappeared," he said finally, his tone flat, as if he'd made peace with the uncertainty long ago. "I don't know if she's dead or alive, and I don't think it matters. Roman's happy now, and my father's gone. That's enough."

His words lingered in the air, heavy with unresolved pain. Viktor's gaze remained fixed on the photograph, his eyes clouded with memories that felt too distant yet too raw. Marlee stayed quiet, sensing the weight of his thoughts, the vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to show. When he finally lifted his gaze to hers, it was slow, hesitant, as though he were bracing himself for something—judgment, pity, maybe even rejection.

But all Marlee gave him was quiet admiration. Her expression softened, her voice gentle yet steady. "You're a good brother, Viktor," she said, each word laced with sincerity.

The faintest flicker of surprise passed over his features, his carefully constructed walls faltering for a brief second before he looked away. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice subdued.

For a moment, silence enveloped them, not uncomfortable but dense with something unspoken. Viktor shifted in his chair, his fingers resuming their restless drumming against his thigh. Marlee watched him, her mind racing, and before she could second-guess herself, the question escaped her lips.

"Why did you kiss me that night?"

The words sliced through the stillness, startling him. Viktor's body tensed, his gaze snapping to hers as if she'd struck him. He froze, caught off guard, his jaw tightening as the question settled between them like a challenge he wasn't sure how to face.

For a moment, Marlee thought he might retreat, his guarded expression slipping back into place. But then, he stayed. His shoulders squared as he held her gaze, his voice low and raw with truth. "Because I wanted to."

"Then why did you stop? Why did you leave?" Marlee's voice trembled, her emotions spilling out. "You left me like it meant nothing."

Viktor ran a hand through his hair, his composure cracking. "It meant everything, Marlee. That's why I had to leave."

"That's not fair," she mumbled back. Her voice was shaky but defiant. "You don't get to decide that for me. You can't kiss me and then act like it was a mistake. Like I'm a mistake."

He stood suddenly, his movements sharp, and Marlee felt the force of his presence as he loomed over her. "You think this is easy for me?" His voice was rough, raw. "You think I don't feel it too? That I don't want—"

"Then stop running!" she interrupted, her eyes blazing. "Stop running from me."

Something inside him snapped.

In a heartbeat, Viktor closed the distance between them, his hand slipping to the back of her neck and Marlee stood, Viktor's lips captured hers in a kiss that was anything but restrained. It was raw, desperate, the culmination of everything unsaid between them.

Marlee's breath hitched as his other hand gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him. Her fingers found their way to his chest, then his shoulders, clinging to him as though she might drown if she let go. The heat of his body, the firmness of his hold—it was overwhelming, intoxicating.

The kiss deepened, Viktor's lips moving against hers with a fervor that sent shivers down her spine. His fingers tangled in her hair, his touch both possessive and tender. Marlee melted into him, her own hesitations dissolving in the intensity of the moment.

Time seemed to blur, the world around them fading until there was nothing but the two of them. Viktor's breath was hot against her skin as he pulled back just enough to trail soft, urgent kisses along her jaw, his lips brushing against the sensitive curve of her neck.

"Marlee," he murmured, her name a husky whisper against her skin, filled with a longing that made her knees weak.

When their lips met again, the kiss was slower this time, more deliberate, as though they were savoring the moment, memorizing every detail.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathing heavily. Viktor rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed, his voice barely above a whisper. "This is why I left. Because I knew if I stayed, I wouldn't be able to stop."

Marlee didn't pull away. Her fingers lingered on his shirt, her voice soft but resolute. "Then don't. Don't push me away."

Thank you for reading! <3