Chapter 7: The Devil's Deal
872 Words
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The car’s interior was dark, the air thick with something unspoken. Alina sat rigid in the leather seat, her fingers curling into her lap. The weight of Viktor’s presence beside her was suffocating, even as he remained silent.
The city lights blurred past the tinted windows, but Alina didn’t dare take her eyes off him.
“Where are we going?” she finally asked, her voice tight.
Viktor turned his head slightly, his piercing gaze locking onto her. “Somewhere we can talk.”
She swallowed.
“What if I don’t want to talk?”
A slow, amused smirk tugged at his lips. “You got in the car, Alina.”
Her stomach twisted. He was right.
And now she wasn’t sure if she had made a mistake.
She shifted uncomfortably, her body hyper-aware of every little movement he made. The way his fingers drummed lightly against his thigh. The way his sharp jawline clenched whenever he glanced at her.
The tension in the air felt suffocating.
Minutes passed in silence.
Then Viktor leaned in slightly, his voice low. “Are you afraid of me?”
Alina’s breath hitched.
She didn’t want to admit it. Didn’t want to show weakness.
But her silence was answer enough.
Viktor hummed, his gaze flickering over her face. “Good.”
The car came to a slow stop in front of a massive, gated estate.
Alina’s stomach twisted with unease.
“This isn’t a place to talk,” she said cautiously.
“No,” Viktor agreed, stepping out of the car. “It’s a place to listen.”
Her pulse spiked as he walked around to open her door.
She hesitated.
If she stepped out, she wouldn’t be able to take it back.
But the way Viktor stood there—calm, patient, completely in control—she knew she had no real choice.
Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand in his.
And the moment she did, he curled his fingers around hers—tight, firm, possessive.
She had never felt smaller.
And she had never felt more trapped.
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A Prison Disguised as Luxury
The estate was overwhelming—tall iron gates, dark windows, an aura of danger that clung to the air.
Viktor led her inside, his grip never loosening.
The interior was just as imposing. Polished floors. Grand chandeliers. Heavy silence.
No warmth. No sign of life.
It was a palace built for a king.
Or a prison built for a captive.
Alina pulled her hand free, trying to steady herself. “What is this place?”
“My home,” Viktor said simply.
Her eyes darted around, searching for an escape route.
Viktor chuckled darkly. “Don’t bother.”
She stiffened.
“You’re safe here,” he said, his tone smooth. “Unless you try to leave.”
Alina’s heart pounded.
“What do you want from me?” she demanded.
Viktor stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “Everything.”
Her breath caught.
His fingers ghosted over her wrist, barely touching, yet sending a shiver through her.
“You don’t remember me,” he murmured. “But I remember you.”
Alina’s brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
His gaze darkened. “You were always mine, Alina. You just didn’t know it.”
Her body went cold.
The way he said it—like a fact, not an opinion—made her stomach twist in fear.
She took a step back.
Viktor let her.
For now.
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A Past She Didn’t Know Existed
Alina’s hands clenched into fists. “I don’t belong to you.”
Viktor tilted his head slightly. “No?”
His lips twitched as he pulled a phone from his pocket, tapped the screen, and turned it toward her.
Alina’s blood ran cold.
The screen was filled with photos.
Photos of her.
Some recent. Some from years ago.
Her hands trembled as she took the phone. Scrolling through, she saw images of herself at school, in cafes, walking home.
Unaware.
Unknowing.
But he had been watching.
For years.
A sharp inhale left her lips. “This—this is insane.”
Viktor leaned in, his voice dangerously soft. “Is it?”
Alina forced herself to look at him. “Why?” she whispered.
His eyes darkened. “Because you were never supposed to leave me.”
Her breath came in sharp, panicked gasps. “I don’t even know you!”
Viktor’s jaw tightened. “Not yet.”
His fingers curled around her wrist—gentle, yet unyielding.
“But you will.”
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Trapped
Alina yanked her arm away. “I want to leave.”
Viktor didn’t stop her as she turned toward the door.
She rushed forward, her breath ragged.
But the moment she reached the massive double doors, her fingers froze over the handle.
It wouldn’t turn.
Locked.
Panic surged through her.
She spun back around, eyes wide. “You—”
Viktor stood there, watching.
Waiting.
“I told you,” he murmured, stepping forward. “You’re safe here. Unless you try to leave.”
Alina’s chest rose and fell in rapid breaths.
She wasn’t safe.
She was trapped.
And Viktor?
He was just getting started.
To be continued...
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- Writer
