Taming His Father’s Wife

3| HIS FATHER’S WIFE

Viktor

Igor just got married.

The fucker actually remarried at the age of 71, knowing he had one foot in the grave from that terminal disease that could end him any day soon. Only a fool wouldn’t know what this meant for us all.

My hand tightened around the steering and I drove like a possessed man, but somehow not still driving fast enough.

The moment my car turned up in front of his building, I was out of the door before the engine even died. My phone vibrated in my hand for the umpteenth time—my brothers again, no doubt. Everyone was going crazy, I was just the only one close enough to figure out what exactly this fuckery was all about first.

The door pulled open after my first knock, and his butler, Pedro opened for me. I saw the moment he opened his mouth to probably lie that my father wasn’t in. I brushed past him, not caring to listen.

I was about to run for his room when I heard someone cuss in Italian, not too loud but audible enough,

“Cazatte!” That was somebody that definitely didn’t sound like any housekeeper or security personnel.

I walked towards the sound of the voice instead, convinced it was her—my father’s new wife. I stopped in front of Igor’s private living room. It was pitch dark inside, so I stepped in, making sure not to make a sound before I flicked on the light switch. And there she was.

Sniffing drugs.

The stash flew out of her hands seconds after I walked in, but it was too late. My lips pulled into a smile that was the opposite of everything I felt at the moment. Igor had really gone and married a drug addict, what a fool.

The lady’s hands gripped the table behind her for support, her wide eyes trained on me. She looked like she was not a day over twenty two, and was not the conventional beauty at all. Nothing like those soft rose-flowered women or s**t. She was strangely enchanting , instead. A bit skinny with freakishly bright and wide blue eyes, pouty lips and a chest that was criminal to belong on that frame. Her jet black hair was packed in a messy bun on her head, and her face was bare as the day she was born.

However, those features were not the most interesting thing I’d seen on her. It was the tattoos. Five to six of them scantily scattered over her supple, glowy skin. Her thighs, arms, neck. If she was a mafia princess like I heard she was, then this was absolutely absurd.

Mafia women were known for their innocence and soft upbringing to be able to submit to their dangerous husbands. This woman in front of me was far from innocent. Even those pretty doe eyes couldn’t f*****g fool me.

“I’m not… what are you doing in here? Who are you?” She snapped, glaring at me.

“What’s a druggie like you doing in my father’s house?” I asked at once, and she gasped silently. Then, out of the blue, a smile lit up her face.

“Oh hello there, stepson!” The balls on this woman.

I was in front of her in a flash, my front grazing the hard buds of her n****e under that flimsy singlet she had on. Her scent wafted through my nostrils—she smelled like expensive Sicilian lilies and just a hint of cheap drugs. I ignored the scintillating sensation of my body against hers, forced myself not to be the pervert I was itching to be.

“Don’t mess with me. It’ll be in your best interests to watch that f*****g mouth if you don’t want me shutting it for you.”

She tilted her head upwards to look at me, a bit of whatever powder she had been sniffing still somewhere under her nose. Her cheeks were tainted the prettiest shade of red.

“Why? You were the one that accused me of being a druggie. I just called you what you are… my step—”

My hand came around her throat before I could stop myself. Her hand was on mine at once, trying to claw me off her. I didn’t budge, even if those nails hurt like a b***h. I’d honestly surprised myself by the move. I was the calm brother, I never lost my f*****g cool.

“Let me go!”

“If I were you, I’d pack my bags and leave right now, gattina.”

She shrugged, batting her lashes at me, “Too bad I’m not you and you’re not me.”

I watched her keenly for a few more seconds, then chuckled to myself. I also loosened my grip around her throat and almost f*****g died when I saw the marks I’d left. I didn’t need to know she was easy to bruise, too.

“You’ll get yourself killed around here with that mouth.” I spoke hoarsely against her face.

I might tolerate it a little because… f**k if I knew why, but my brothers would not take this behavior lightly at all.

“I didn’t do anything…”

“I’m not an enemy you’d like to make.”

“I didn’t come here to make any enemies, I’m just here to be a good wife for your father, that’s all.”

“Hmm.” I studied her face, deep in thought before I finally spat it out, “Where is she?”

She raised a brow, “What?”

“The wife my father was supposed to marry. Because it’s definitely not you.”

A flicker of fear appeared on her face, then she tried to escape me, but I pinned her in place, my thigh between her long legs which were almost completely bare, save for the little shorts she had on. Why the hell did she think she could dress in this manner around here?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You need to let me go already.” She retorted, trying to sound confident but there was a slight shake in her voice.

I nodded grimly, then swiped off the powder on her nose with my thumb. We held each other’s eyes as I slipped the finger into my mouth. I could hear how fast her heart was beating, how labored her breathing had gotten. The substance was heaven on my tongue, no cheap bitterness or any of that. This was high quality, expensive. You had to be a pro to get quality like this.

It’s not her, I decided. I need to find out who this imposter was, not for dad, but for the sake of the company. To be on the safe side.

“You shouldn’t have involved yourself in this war, gattina. You’re too pretty to be wrecked in the manner I plan to wreck you.”

We didn’t say anything else for seconds, just stared into each other’s eyes, then she pushed at my chest. I didn’t budge, my teeth grating over each other.

I bent over to kiss her cheek, lingering to listen to the way her heartbeat had picked up, “Welcome to the family…”

“Lottie.” She breathed.

“… Lottie.” I tested it on my tongue. Too decent a name for a little devil like her.

I leaned off her and turned, exiting the room in fast strides… I started up the stairs first, then ran back down and stormed towards the private elevator instead. I punched in the code to his room with enough force to ruin the buttons, not that I cared.

I couldn’t get out of that elevator fast enough. Ignoring the two bodyguards standing on each side of his door, I twisted the door knob and started to step in when a hand landed on my arm.

“Sir, your father doesn’t want to be disturbed, ” Kyle said calmly. I nodded, responded,

“I just want a word.”

With that, I slipped inside and locked the door behind me with a click. Igor looked up from his TV. Different wires were connected to his body, and he looked weaker than I saw him the last time.

“Viktor…” he drawled when our eyes met. “… what do I owe this visit? Haven’t seen you in a long—”

“You know I haven’t come here for pleasantries.” I cut him off midway. “What’s this I’m hearing?”

And Igor smirked... adjusting on the bed.

“You finally heard of my marriage, ey? Was wondering when you and your brothers would get the information—” He bursted into a coughing fit, and it was then that I noticed another person in the room. His nurse. I motioned for her to get out, after she’d checked on him. Thankfully, she left without any depressing question.

“You realize this would take away five percent of our shares. Any woman you get married to will depend on our shares, she’s taking five percent from our money—”

“I know exactly what I did when I made my decision.”

“Cool.” I nodded. “So you know you married a druggie too, right?”

The look on the motherfucker’s face was satisfying. For once, Igor had f****d up his s**t.