CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
ALEXANDRA
Alexandra had been surprised to find Viktor wanted to hear what she had to say instead of resorting to yelling at her to leave or slamming the door in her face, as he had the evening after their wedding. Pride swelled in her chest—they were making progress. Her fingers played against the black fabric of his pants, tracing the outline of his impressive thigh muscle.
“I can appreciate your eagerness to talk, but it is unnecessary,” Viktor said. His mouth was a tight line across his face, the expression revealing no emotion.
“What do you mean unnecessary?” Alexandra demanded, but suddenly it occurred to her what he might mean, and she felt her eyes widening. “Please tell me you didn’t do something horrible already.” She froze, her hand still on his leg, and fought to keep her gaze firm, searching his face for an answer.
“No, not horrible. I am simply doing what must be done.”
Alexandra felt tears coming, and shook her head. “That isn’t very reassuring, you know.”
“It isn’t meant to be reassuring. It is just the truth,” Viktor said. Even though he hadn’t turned to pure ice, and even though he was taking the time to talk to her, Alexandra sensed his emotional walls rising high. Dread blossomed in Alexandra’s chest, but she refused to be overcome by it. She would save her father, would clear her family, and then she would finally be able to break through to Viktor and build the marriage she’d been striving for her entire life.
“I saw Elena today,” Alexandra said, rather than pushing Viktor to explain himself. “Her father, Uncle Tolya, can prove my father’s innocence. All you need to do is—”
“No.” Viktor was firm, bordering on sharp. His eyes blazed at Alexandra, matching her resolve with his own. “I have already made up my mind.”
Alexandra’s pulse spiked. She wanted to argue with him, but knew his stubbornness well. So far, the only times she had been able to break through to him was through sex.
“Please, Viktor, you haven’t even listened to what I have to say yet!” Her voice had grown softer, lower, silken, the words lingering in the air long after they’d passed her lips. She gazed at him with partially-lidded eyes, purposeful in every breath now. The hand on his thigh slipped teasingly against the fly of his pants. Alexandra shifted her weight and posture to put her breasts on display.
Their bodies were close. The high notes of his cologne mingled with the rich leather smell of the furniture and the intoxicating musk of his sweat. She scooted nearer to press against him.
“Then I will listen.” Viktor licked his lips and cocked his head. “But only listen. As I said before, I have already made up my mind.”
Alexandra used a single, delicate finger to trace the outline of his hardening cock. “Uncle Tolya knows my father well, and I know he knows something about what’s going on.” She kept her words vague. Images of the cardboard boxes and movers in uniform at Elena’s apartment flashed through her mind’s eye, and she wondered just how much to reveal to Viktor. It was bad enough he was making threats against her family; she didn’t want to endanger Elena, as well. All of her strange behavior, now compounded by her sudden move, suggested that something was wrong. The Elena Alexandra knew was more sympathetic than she’d been in their last few meetings, and Alexandra wasn’t sure how much more she could take before she snapped. She was already showing signs of being under tremendous pressure. Adding on to that would be cruel, and Alexandra wanted better for her friend than that.
“And what exactly does he know?” Viktor’s voice had dropped to a husky whisper. Alexandra felt the steady thrum of blood in his erection, and began to tease it with greater pressure. He lifted his hips and pressed back to rub himself against her palm. Hopefully, his arousal would buy her a moment to think.
Alexandra faltered for words. She didn’t know exactly how Uncle Tolya was involved, or what information he may be privy to, but if he had instructed Elena to leave, then he must have heard something. Surely that, combined with his relationship with her father Sergei, would be enough to prove her family’s innocence.
Her perfectly manicured nails clasped the zipper to his fly. She unzipped it slowly and dipped her hand into his pants. With only a thin layer of cotton between his powerful erection and her hand, she could feel the warmth from his body, and purred against his ear.
“You’ll have to ask him that. I am certain my father is innocent, and I am certain that if you would just take a little, tiny bit of time to talk to Uncle Tolya, he would be able to straighten this whole thing out. I’ve known him since I was little, and he’s a good man.” Alexandra’s fingers slipped past the front slit of Viktor’s boxers to caress his aching cock unhindered.
Viktor’s hand closed around her wrist. When their eyes met, his face had grown callous and his eyes had narrowed. He slowly wrenched her hand away and placed it in her lap, then zipped his fly back up. “Stop this. I have already given word to have your father brought in, and that is final. Batting your eyes at me and jerking me off isn’t going to change anything.”
The fear, sadness, frustration, and hurt bubbled over in Alexandra’s chest and melted into horror. Her eyes watered, verging on tears. She pulled back from Viktor, leaning away from him into the far side of the couch and staring at him as though he had just kicked a kitten.
“You’re a monster,” she whispered.
He just glared at her with that familiar, icy expression; it was the same look he had worn when they’d first met, on their wedding day. Hope for a happy marriage, for becoming a respected matriarch in the Sokolov family, crashed down around Alexandra and drained into bone-deep anguish.
All of his tenderness up until now had to have been an act. He had almost fooled her, and she resented herself for falling for his deception.
“Go ahead, then. If that’s what you’re going to do, if that’s who you really are, then just kill me. Isn’t that what you do?” Alexandra’s voice cracked as tears finally spilled down her cheeks, carrying her hope with them as they fell, and she wiped at them uselessly with her hands.
“I am not killing your father, Alexandra. Only questioning him,” Viktor said flatly. But Alexandra wasn’t sure if she believed him, or if she even had reason to.
“Oh, questioning? That’s all, just questioning? Are you going to question him with a knife, with a gun, or with a car battery?” Anger crept into her voice. She stood slowly, her legs trembling with adrenaline, and wiped her eyes on her sleeve.
“Just questioning.”
“And when are you bringing him in?”
“I have already given word.” Viktor remained seated, and stone-like.
Maybe this marriage is beyond saving, but I still have time to save my father, Alexandra thought. She pursed her lips and took a few deep breaths while Viktor continued to stare at her with his freezing gaze.
“How long?” she asked.
Viktor did not respond. Alexandra wanted to scream.
“How long?” she repeated, louder this time. Viktor’s eyes narrowed further.
“Soon enough.” He reached to the endtable and retrieved his cup of coffee, then took a nonchalant sip. Alexandra wanted to slap the cup out of his hand, to grab him by the lapels and shake him, but knew it would accomplish nothing.
“Just hold on. For me, Viktor,” she added. Then Alexandra whirled and raced for the door, and disappeared down the hall at a sprint. She heard Viktor’s booming voice echoing behind her, demanding she come back.
She kept running.