Chapter Seventy Three.

Chapter Seventy Three.
“Xena? What was that about?” Viktor’s voice cut through the thick silence as he slowly picked the phone from the bed, his eyes narrowing.

Xena didn’t answer immediately. Her chest felt tight, like it was collapsing in on itself. Her lips parted, but nothing came out.

The weight of her Nana’s words still rang like an alarm in her head.

She didn’t even realize her expression had twisted, a mix of disbelief, anger?… and betrayal?.

“That was supposed to be private,” she finally muttered, her voice shaky but laced with heat.

Viktor’s frown deepened. “Private?” he echoed, his tone low, but there was tension creeping up in it, a storm waiting. “What happened, Xena?”

She looked up at him, her eyes clouded. Should she tell him? Could she?

There was something dangerous flickering behind his gaze, not at her, but at the situation.

But she couldn’t keep it in anymore. Her breath caught in her throat as she stood up slowly, her gaze locking onto his.

“When… when Marco took me,” she began, swallowing hard, “he said something. He told me I was supposed to be his wife. That it was all in a contract — a deal between his family and mine.”

The effect on Viktor was instant. His jaw clenched so tight she could almost hear it crack. His shoulders tensed, and his eyes went dark, not with confusion, but fury.

That bastard!

“I didn’t believe it,” she went on quickly, voice cracking slightly. “I couldn’t. That’s why I called my Nana, I needed to hear it from her. I needed to know if any of it was real.”

Xena drew in a trembling breath, her hands clenched into fists by her side.

“And it is real. They did it. My own parents sold me off in some sick arrangement like I was nothing but a pawn.”

Her voice wavered, raw. “And what’s even more fucked up… is how my Nana knows about you. And Marco. All of this. She knew, and no one told me.”

She took a step back, her eyes shimmering but angry now. “What the hell is going on, Viktor?” Her voice cracked into a whisper-shout, a mix of rage and hurt. “Why does everyone know something about my life — except me?”

Viktor’s jaw was locked, rage simmering behind his gaze. “No matter what the past says,” he ground out, “I won’t let Marco take you.”

Xena let out a sharp laugh, cold, bitter. “That’s not the damn point, Viktor. I don’t care who takes who, I want to know the truth!” she snapped, her voice rising. “What the fuck is this deal?! And why the hell were my parents involved with mafias in the first place?!”

Viktor didn’t flinch. He took a step forward and cupped her cheeks gently but firmly in his large hands, holding her still.

“Because they were desperate,” he said, voice low and controlled. “Years ago, they needed money. Fast. And when the banks said no, they went to the wrong people. The Bellini family offered them help. But help from that kind of world comes with a price.”

Xena blinked rapidly, her lips trembling. “What price?”

“You,” Viktor whispered.

The word hit her like a slap. She pulled back from his grip, her face pale, her body stiff. “You knew,” she breathed out, stepping away from him. “You knew all along.”

“Yes, I knew,” Viktor said quietly, his tone low but steady. “I started digging the moment I got word that Marco was searching for you.”

Xena’s brows furrowed deeply, her heart skipping. “What? How long have you known, Viktor?”

He looked away briefly, jaw flexing. “Your Nana did a good job hiding you deep in Italy, away from everything. But Marco’s family… they don’t stop. I had to go there, talk to her directly. That’s how I found out about the deal. And I swear to you, I’m going to destroy it. I’ll find a way.”

Xena just stood there, breath held, her chest tightening with too much at once.

Her legs gave in and she sat down on the edge of the bed like someone who’d just been shoved into another world.

This was too much. Too much for any normal person to process.

My parents. My childhood. My life.
It all felt like a cruel, twisted lie.

She was already given to someone??

She stared blankly at the floor, her thoughts spiraling.

I just want my life back. The restaurant… my brother… my Nana’s warm kitchen. Peace..

Viktor exhaled slowly and Then he crouched beside her, lowering his tall frame until he could see her face.

“I’ll never let him touch you. Not even a fucking glance, Xena,” he said, voice firm, eyes dark with something that looked a lot like possessive rage.

Xena blinked, lips trembling just a little. “Marco… he looked like someone unhinged. Like a psycho,” she whispered.

Viktor nodded once and then sat beside her, pulling her against him from the side, protective, but careful, like she might shatter if held too tightly.

“He is,” Viktor said. “One of the most dangerous, twisted men I’ve had to deal with. But I’ll take care of him.”

Xena turned slightly, just enough to see his face. Her voice came out soft, almost breathless.

“Is that why you locked me in this place always? Because of Marco?” she asked. “Is that why you got so mad… when Anya took me to the club?”

Viktor stilled. His eyes dropped to her lips for a second before lifting back to her gaze, and something flickered in them, vulnerability, maybe.

Something rare.

“I was… scared,” he admitted quietly.

Xena’s heart pulled. That was the last thing she expected to hear from him. She gave him a small, knowing smile—tired, yes, but warm in a way that melted his guard.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

Then, without thinking too hard, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

What was meant to be a little kiss..

Viktor kissed her back immediately, hungry, desperate, like he’d been waiting for this too long.

One hand slipped to her thigh, gripping her like she might disappear, while the other wrapped tight around her waist.

He deepened the kiss as he slowly guided her down to the bed, never breaking contact. Xena let him.

Her heart pounded against her ribs, loud and fast and confused. Her fingers slid up his arms instinctively.

What am I doing?

This is the second time I’ve let him touch me like this... and yet…

I love it.

Her thoughts tangled with the intensity of his kiss, the weight of his body, the heat of his skin through her clothes.

Can I really give my heart to him? To someone as dangerous as Viktor?