𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐞 || A Mafia Love Story

xlviii

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"Let me take you somewhere," Viktor said suddenly, pulling back. His stoic features softened, his sharp eyes brightening with an almost boyish excitement. It was a startling transformation, like sunlight breaking through a dense, overcast sky.

Marlee blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before a smile began tugging at the corners of her lips. She'd never seen him like this—smiling. And with teeth, no less. The typically reserved man looked younger, his smile lines creasing around his mouth in a way that only deepened his charm. He was undeniably handsome like this, his seriousness momentarily replaced by something unguarded, something human.

"Where?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity, her focus fixed on his animated expression.

"It's a surprise, Malyshka," he said, his tone tinged with mischief. The warmth in his voice seemed almost foreign, as though a part of him long buried was surfacing just for her. Marlee had never seen this kind of vitality in him before, and it was mesmerizing.

"What about your work?" she asked, glancing toward the desk behind them. Piles of papers sprawled across the surface, an unmistakable testament to his responsibilities.

Viktor followed her gaze but waved it off with a careless shrug. "That can wait," he said simply, dismissing it like it was an afterthought. Without hesitation, he took her hand, his larger fingers folding gently around hers, and led her out of the office. They hurried down the stairs toward a narrow closet door.

Viktor opened it and began sifting through its contents with purpose. He grabbed a pair of gloves and placed them in her hands before selecting a scarf and wrapping it snugly around her neck. His fingers brushed the nape of her neck as he gently gathered her hair and tucked it free of the scarf. The brief contact sent an unexpected shiver racing down Marlee's spine, though she did her best to suppress it.

Next came a coat, which Viktor held open for her. "Turn," he instructed, his voice low but firm. Marlee laughed softly at his thoroughness as she slipped her arms into the sleeves.

"Where are we going?" she asked, amusement lacing her voice.

"It's cold," he replied simply, fastening the last button of her coat with a final tug before grabbing his own black jacket from the closet. Once bundled, he took her hand again, guiding her down a dim hallway to a heavy door.

When he pushed it open, the frosty air rushed in, sharp and biting. Marlee shivered as the darkness loomed before them. Viktor flipped a switch, and the hum of machinery filled the silence. A garage door groaned upward, revealing an immaculate collection of luxury cars gleaming under fluorescent lights.

"Roman likes them," Viktor said casually, nodding toward the array of vehicles.

Marlee smiled at the mention of his younger brother. It was a glimpse into another side of Viktor—the side that cared deeply, quietly, for the people he loved.

Viktor led her to a sleek black Mercedes, opening the passenger door for her with practiced ease. She slid inside, the leather interior icy against her skin. Her breath came out in soft, visible puffs as she exhaled into the cold air.

And then, for just a moment, it hit her—a dark room, the back of a van. A sickening image of her nonna collapsed on a cold concrete floor. A man's cruel hand gripping her throat.

Marlee blinked rapidly, trying to banish the memory. She wasn't there anymore. She was here, with Viktor. She was safe. The thoughts left her quickly. ur she couldn't seem to get rid of the icy grip lingering at her throat.