Russian Mobster's Princess by Bella Rose Page B

HUMMED A little tune beneath her breath as she climbed the last few stairs to her floor. It was a little odd to think that Viktor was probably already at the apartment. She was used to coming home to an empty place. This was very different, and almost pleasant in its own way. Perhaps it would be good not to be alone so much.
    The door flew open as soon as she stuck her key in the lock. The keychain was ripped from her hand, causing a grimace of discomfort as the clip caught on the thin skin between her fingers. She hissed in pain and lifted her hand to her mouth to suck on the offended spot.
    “Where have you been?” Viktor demanded.
    “At the studio.”
    He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into the apartment, slamming the door behind her and glaring as though she had just violated some hard and fast rule about cohabitating. Kira felt horribly off balance and maybe even a little frightened by his erratic behavior.
    “Viktor?” she whispered. “What’s wrong?”
    “You’re not supposed to leave without me! It’s dangerous. Don’t you understand that?”
    “Viktor, I go to the studio every single day at eight o’clock and stay there until about four in the afternoon.” Kira felt as though she were talking to a deranged person. “You weren’t here this morning when I woke up, so I kept to my usual schedule. I thought that was why I was allowed to come back here to this apartment.” She rethought that statement. “To my apartment.”
    “It is.” He made a frustrated noise and began snarling unintelligible things in Russian. “You just don’t understand.”
    “So help me understand, because right now you’re really freaking me out, and I’m already a little freaked out about actually living with you. All right?” A wave of tears made Kira feel ridiculous. “Why are you being so mean?”
    No matter how strange she felt about her outburst, it had the side effect of catching Viktor completely off guard. He seemed to take a mental step back. His shoulders rose and fell as he took a few deep breaths, obviously trying to regain control.
    “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
    Then to her surprise, he held out his arms. Even more shocking was the desire she felt to be in his embrace. She walked toward him, hesitant at first. Then when his arms folded her against his chest, she experienced the most satisfying sense of safety. Nothing could hurt her there. Not when Viktor held her so close.
    Kira expelled a huge sigh. She rested her cheek against his pectoral and listened to his heart beat steadily beneath her ear. “Now. Can you please tell me why you were ready to rip my head off just because I went to the studio for regular practice?”
    Viktor gently drew her toward the bed. Kira had the odd thought that if they were going to be living together very long, then they needed to invest in a one bedroom apartment with actual living room furniture. Her studio apartment was outfitted with a practice barre in the only space that would have been large enough for a couch. That left the bed as the only seating available.
    Sitting beside Viktor on the edge of her bed, Kira gazed up into his dark eyes and knew she wasn’t going to like whatever was coming. “Just say it,” she suggested. “You know, like ripping off a Band-Aid.”
    He seemed to be trying to decide how to begin. “You were right about your father’s men.”
    “Wait. About what?” She frowned. “You mean about what I heard them speaking of the other night? That they are the ones attacking these women?” Then it hit her. “Oh my God! Vasily, Ivan, and Yakov murdered Atalya!” The tears came fast, and she was powerless to stop them. It was just too awful to contemplate. “How could my father not know?”
    “He knows,” Viktor said quietly. “What you said last night? About him believing that marrying you to me would somehow get him more power? He intended to have you killed off in this crime spree and