“Except they don’t matter.”
Pav smirked. “Some do.”
He didn’t say it directly, but when his gaze landed on her again, she knew that he meant her. That how she saw him mattered to him. That her opinion on his worth counted for something where he was concerned.
That felt like a lot to put on her shoulders. Sometimes, she was still terrified of this man, despite the fact he never gave her a reason to be. And sometimes, like now, just staring at him was enough to make her body hot and her mind high.
Funny how that worked …
“I think I can’t sleep, either, because I don’t know what’s happening. When I call Konstantin, he won’t tell me anything.” Viktoria rolled her eyes and glanced away from Pav when she muttered, “Instead, he lets me stew and make up a hundred different horrible scenarios in my mind about that monster, and what might happen next.”
“I’ll tell you.”
She peered back at him. “Would you?”
“Yes.”
“What would you tell me?”
“Anything,” he replied.
“Anything at all?”
“I said that.”
“About him, too?”
Pav cocked his head to the side as he studied her. “Boris, you mean.”
Why did her throat get tight, then?
Even saying that asshole’s name was hard. Harder than it should be, knowing he didn’t deserve anything from her now. He’d already taken too much from her. Her peace of mind and her body. Her trust and her self-worth. He’d taken all of it, and she was only now beginning to get it back, piece by tiny piece. So, why couldn’t she just say his name without feeling like she was swallowing a rock at the same time?
“Boris,” she whispered, forcing herself to say it. “About him. Would you tell me whatever I wanted to know?”
“I would.”
“Even about his time there … with you at the Compound, I mean.”
She didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened ever so slightly, or how his gaze darkened. But he didn’t look away from her, and she knew what his answer would be before it ever slipped past those lips of his.
“If you ask me, I won’t lie,” he replied, “but that doesn’t mean I think you should know. I think you want to know because you assume it will help. It may not, it may only—”
“Did he suffer?”
“Often,” Pav returned. “From various methods of torture and punishment.”
“Give me an example.”
“He was beaten every hour, on the hour, when he first arrived. He was left alone just long enough when that was over for him to believe things would get better.”
“But they didn’t,” she whispered.
Pav shook his head subtly. “Of course, not. Nothing gets better in hell.”
“Then, what happened?”
“You don’t really want to know.”
“I wouldn’t have asked.”
Pav cleared his throat, nodding. She knew that she had him, then. If she wanted anything from this man, all she needed to do was ask him. He’d told her that once, and she found that he wasn’t the type to go back on his word.
Not if he could help it.
Pav’s hand came to rest on her bare knee, just below the hem of her skirt. He squeezed gently, saying, “Punishment varied, and I wasn’t the only one expected to deliver it. Kolya came in a few times—he greatly enjoyed those moments.”
Viktoria blinked, but was unsurprised.
It was Kolya, after all.
“But what did you do to him?” she asked.
A part of her just wanted to know … maybe if she did, then she could let some of the anger go about the fact her brothers and father lied to her about Boris still being alive after she’d believed he was dead. Like he should have been. If she’d known the bastard truly suffered for what he had done in the chambers, then the betrayal wouldn’t sting nearly as bad.
Or maybe it would.
Who knew?
“A specific thing or all of them?” he asked back.
Viktoria shrugged. “Something that will make me smile.”
Pav chuckled. “You’re a dark soul, Viktoria.”
“Maybe.”
“I like it.”
“At least someone does.”
It must have been her words that shifted Pav’s mood, because in the next breath, he’d rolled over to his knees, and was pressing in between her legs. His proximity, and the weight of his body, had her leaning back just a bit. She used her hands to keep herself steady as he hovered above her. There was something wild in his gaze as he watched her like that—something dark.
But like him, she liked it.
Only on him, though.
“There are a lot of things I like about you,” he told her, his gaze drifting down to her mouth and then the column of her throat. It was his gaze alone that could get her heartbeat racing and her stomach clenching. She knew exactly what this man could do to her body if she let him, and it would be glorious. “A lot of things I would love to do to you, Viktoria. Things that would make you scream …” He grinned, adding, “But in a good way.”
“It’s always good.”
“With me.”
“With you,” she agreed.
His hand came up to rest against the low V on the neckline of her dress. His warm, calloused palm pressed against her chest overtop where her heart was thrumming hard. There was no hiding the fast beats, but she wasn’t sure if it was from fear or lust.
Both, probably.
She still felt scared with
