Chapter3

After dinner, Victor’s men started clamoring to head down to the private cellar beneath the winery to keep drinking. Elena held up her glass, smiled at Victor, and said, “It’s rare for everyone to be in such a good mood. Why don’t we go down and chat properly?”

Victor glanced at her but didn’t refuse. He simply nodded. “Let’s go.”

Elena turned to the men and waved. “Change of venue—let’s keep the party going!”

The group followed them downstairs. The cellar was dimly lit, the oak barrels giving off a faint scent of wine. The men spread out along the sofas and bar on either side, some pouring drinks, others talking in low voices. Victor stopped in front of the middle row of barrels, and Elena followed. I stayed near the staircase, watching their backs.

Elena looked at Victor. “All these years you’ve been away, you kept that stand-in close?”

Victor lit a cigar, his voice low. “She’s obedient. Easy to show off.”

Elena stepped closer and reached up to straighten his collar. “Now that I’m back, are you still planning to keep her? She seems pretty good at pretending.”

Victor set the cigar aside, hooked an arm around her waist, and pulled her in. “What do you want done with her?”

Elena didn’t answer. She only smiled and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Don’t mention her tonight,” she murmured, voice low and inviting as her hand slid beneath his shirt.

Victor’s breathing deepened. “You came back and immediately started trouble,” he said against her ear, then grabbed the back of her head and kissed her hard. They leaned into the barrels, movements growing urgent. Her skirt was shoved up, his shirt pulled open, their breathing turning rough as they treated the cellar like their own private space.

I stood in the shadows a short distance away, watching them. A sharp, ugly twist pulled through my chest—the fury and humiliation of being treated like empty air made my fingers tremble. Three years, and I had only ever been a tool to provoke her. I drew a slow breath and forced the anger down.

The trail already pointed to England. I just had to endure a little longer.

I turned to leave. Two of the men, glasses in hand, looked my way. One smiled. “Vivian, don’t go yet. We’re not finished drinking.”

“No thanks. I’m going upstairs to rest.” I stepped around him and headed for the stairs.

I had barely reached the cellar door when one of them came up behind me, still smiling, and caught my arm. “The boss is busy right now and won’t notice. Why not have some fun with us instead?”

I refused quietly. These two were new faces. I shook off his hand and hurried up the spiral staircase. Once I was out of the cellar, I walked faster down the corridor, but footsteps followed.

“Running?” A hand grabbed my shoulder from behind and yanked me back. I stumbled into the wall. Before I could straighten, the second man closed in from the side, one hand braced beside my head as he leaned in.

“The boss is still busy and won’t notice you,” the one holding my shoulder said, breath heavy with wine. “You know Elena’s back. You really think you’ll still be around much longer? Might as well play with us now before you get thrown out.”

I turned my face away. “Victor will find out. He won’t let it go.”

“Him?” The man laughed once. “He’s busy making Elena happy right now. He doesn’t have time for you.”

My wrist was pinned. I tried to pull free but couldn’t. The other man reached for my waist. I twisted sharply, trying to shrink into the corner.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone disappear toward the cellar.

Below, Victor still had Elena pinned against the barrels, his shirt open. One of his men approached, expression tense, and spoke quietly. “Boss… there’s trouble.”

“Talk,” Victor said without stopping.

“Two of the men cornered Miss Vivian in the corridor.”

Victor turned his head, gaze sharpening on the messenger. “Whose men?”

“They’re from the Locke family,” the man said in a lowered voice.

Elena pressed a hand to his chest. “Don’t overreact. It might just be a misunderstanding. Vivian knows how things work—she’ll handle it.”

Victor looked at her, then toward the stairs. In three years, she had never caused trouble or sent anyone to fetch him. He released Elena and strode toward the staircase.

Upstairs, I was still pinned to the wall, one hand gripping my wrist while the other tugged at the strap of my dress. Low, mocking laughter brushed my ear. “Stay quiet. We’ll just have a little fun right here.”

Victor burst out of the stairwell, grabbed the man on top of me, and kicked him away. He seized the second man by the collar and slammed him into the wall.

“I’ve said it before,” he said, voice ice-cold. “Anyone who touches what’s mine dies.”

The two men scrambled away.

Victor looked down at me, eyes dark. Without a word, he lifted me and carried me out to the car. The drive back to the apartment was silent and fast.

Once inside, he shoved me against the entry wall and tore at my clothes.

“Don’t move,” he growled, kissing me roughly, stealing my breath. His hands moved lower, and he lifted me, forcing my legs apart before driving into me hard.

I gasped against the wall. “Victor…”

Victor let out a low growl. “You’re my property!” He thrust deeper, faster, like he was trying to burn off every ounce of anger inside him. I bit down and took it, repeating the same thought over and over: just endure a little longer. Soon I could leave this place.

That night he took me again and again, rough and relentless. I kept my eyes closed and told myself it was the last time I would let him treat me like this.