VICTOR: Her Ruthless Owner: The VICTOR Trilogy Book 2 [50 Loving States, Rhode Island]

By Theodora Taylor

The opposite of love isn't hate. It's Victor.
My boyfriend's back. But not like before.
He used to be a mafia prince. Now he's a king. Dark, cruel, and commanding.
My father destroyed him, and the payback price for that is ten years of ownership.
"Ownership? Ownership of what? What could I possibly have that you want?" I asked him when I was still innocent.
His smile was so malicious as he answered, "You."
Then he presented me with a shackle disguised as a wedding ring.
So I'm his prisoner now. Can I survive his marriage sentence? Can my heart?
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Theodra Taylor
• Release date: Oct 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9781942167488

Book preview

1

DAWN

A ring. I was looking at a wedding ring. My ex-boyfriend wanted to marry me. Not for love. But for revenge.

Revenge. That word echoed inside of me, louder and louder with every passing second. Meanwhile, Victor stared at me over the box he’d opened after informing me that ten years of ownership would be the price for my betrayal.

He looked so different from the boy I remembered. The messy hair he’d let get so floppy while we were dating was all business now. His inky locks might have still been long on top, but they’d been ruthlessly gelled back and molded into place. Underneath his thick brows, his eyes had somehow gotten even darker. The kind of dense black that put me in mind of the mysterious holes in outer space that depending on who you asked, could either crush you in an instant or send your spaceship hurtling to another time or dimension.

His face was still a beautiful sculpture that even a lapsed artist like me would want to capture on paper. But the planes of it had sharpened over the years. They were now razors that cast shadows.

I’d only compared him to a raven in my mind before. That like stuff was done. He was the human embodiment of that infamous and scary bird. And I was sitting right across from him.

This was Victor.

Victor. The boy I fell in love with when we were both high school students in Japan.

Victor. The mafia prince I had watched kill a man in cold blood. Without blinking an eye. Less than an hour before he proposed to me.

Victor. The ex who was now proposing again.

No, not proposing.

Despite Mount Holyoke’s best efforts with required writing classes, I still had to majorly edit myself. At least when it came to Victor.

Commanding. He was commanding ten years from me.

Of marriage.

I was breathing. I must have been breathing, or else I would’ve passed out. That’s basic biology. But for an eternity of minutes, there was no air to be had. I couldn’t inhale. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t even think.

May 25 th. That had been the date we’d agreed to get married on four years ago. One of the many promises we had made to each other. Before it all fell apart.

And now, here I was on that very same date. Sitting in front of some town hall in Rhode Island, the monster’s expectations hanging heavy in the air.

All I could do was stare at that ring. He wants to marry me.

Not out of love, I reminded myself as my lungs gasped for air. But out of revenge. Again, that word echoed inside my mind.

No, I finally managed to choke out. I won’t marry you. That’s crazy!

Victor snapped the box closed. And the sound brought me out of my eternally held breath. I greedily gulped down oxygen as if he’d been strangling me while making his crazy demands.

He set the ring box down in the seat beside him. Like it had somehow become a living participant in our conversation. Then he signed, So you are choosing the destruction of your family over my ownership?

The destruction of my family? Was he serious?

It was almost too much air now. His threats, combined with all that oxygen, made me dizzy like I was about to pass out. This is insane. Why don’t you just kill me and get it over with? Why threaten my family? Try to make me marry you? I mean, ten years…what is that number even? How did you come up with that calculation?

Ten years is the sentence my father was given after his plea deal, Victor explained, his expression impassive.

My mouth dropped open. He only got ten years for killing that guy?

He was sentenced to ten years for cutting off the nose of a fellow gang member, Victor answered. He almost appeared bored with the conversation. It was part of a plea deal that included my release, or he wouldn’t have even gotten that. However, he died of cancer before he could serve that unnecessary prison sentence.

He died? Your father’s dead? My heart stopped at this new information. Then filled with sorrow for Victor.

He’d lost his father. He was an orphan now. No wonder he looked so ravaged.

Victor I’m so sorry for your loss. I know you loved him…

I gave him my condolences, then felt terrible because I had to add, But that’s not on me. I shouldn’t have to serve his time.

I read the case reports, Victor answered. His expression was a cold blank. The footage you provided was the cornerstone of the case against him. If not for you, he might have gone to a doctor sooner. He might still be alive.

I don’t know what was in those reports, but I was just as surprised as you were on the day of that raid. I didn’t know—

I read the case reports, he repeated, his signs even more precise, even colder than I remembered them. "All of them. You set me up from the beginning. You even planted that story about your brother to lure me back to Tokyo from Hong Kong. You were so relieved when you were finally able to contact your father with something he could use against Red Diamond—that’s what you said in your recorded statement."

A sick sensation filled my belly. What? No, that’s not how it went at all, and I only said those things because—

His expression went from cold to enraged in a blink of an eye.

Try to tell me one more lie, he threatened, his hands slashing through the air like knives. Claim even one more time that you were innocent in all of this. And I will not leave your mother off the list of people I will kill if you do not accept my sentence. Or Lena. Or any man you even think of entering into a relationship with for the rest of your life. Until you pay this debt, no one you love will ever be safe.

The calm intensity in his eyes left no room for doubt. The raven who sat before me was even more powerful and ruthless than the boy I once knew. These were not threats but promises, the promises of a man who now hated me enough to destroy everyone I loved.

Icy terror hollowed out my stomach.

But Victor, I… I broke off because how could I finish that sentence?

The truth would not only be dismissed by the monster sitting across from me but could also bring on my mother’s death.

In the end, all I could come up with was, You can’t do this. Ten years. It’s too much. And how do I even know you’ll let me go after that? That you won’t just kill my dad and everyone I love after all of this is done.

The enraged monster transformed back into a beautiful statue in an instant at my words.

Unlike you, my word is bond. Ten years is what I require. He regarded me, his expression solemn. "As long as you don’t get pregnant, in ten years on May 26 th, you will be free, and your family will be safe. This I vow to you on my life."

On his life.

I believed him, but ten years….

Victor, I whispered. Please, don’t make me do this. There’s got to be another way. Let’s talk or anything but this. Please—

Victor dead-eyed me for a few seconds, then he announced, You have five minutes to make your decision. Then I will put in a call to my cartel friends.

Without signing anything further, he climbed out of the car. And left the door open. As if he expected me to follow.

So after about a thousand What in the entire fucks, I did. I mean, what was the alternative?

He knew where my father was embedded for his undercover assignment.

And apparently, Victor could have him killed with just one call. He could also have my brother shot by some petty gangster with just one call—maybe the same call.

Maybe there was some way out of the situation, other than taking his deal. But if there was, I couldn’t see it.

2

Instead of following the signs that pointed toward the marriage license counter, Victor led me up a set of wide stairs inside the town hall. And by led, I mean he plunged ahead, seeming to trust that I’d follow behind him like a good little threatened dog.

He was right. I had no clue where Victor had been for the last few years or what he had done. But I believed that he would hurt my family just like he killed the guy in the garage.

Without blinking an eye.

We entered a door toward the back of the second-floor hallway without knocking and found a judge in full robes, sitting behind a large desk made of dark wood.

He stood to greet us with a hearty, The future Mr. and Mrs. Zhang! Great to meet you!

The judge had what I privately called a character look. A ring of white hair laid neat and combed around his otherwise bald head. And a pair of little round reading glasses sat perched on the end of his nose like they lived there, even when he slept.

My fingers itched to draw him as I took my turn, shaking his hand. I’d been ignoring those kind of drawing urges for the last four years. And today, it felt especially inappropriate, given the circumstances.

After confirming with Victor that he would be signing all of his responses to the ceremony questions, the judge gave me a wink. I don’t understand sign language, but you’ll tell me if he messes up, right?

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t answer.

But the judge didn’t seem to expect a response. He launched straight into the ceremony without pausing for me to laugh. And way too fast, we got to the part where he told us it was time to exchange rings.

My heart was beating so loudly as he talked. I was surprised I could hear what the judge was saying at all.

Was I really going to do this? Was I really going to marry the monster who was threatening to destroy my family?

I looked up at New Victor, searching his face for a sign—any at all of the boy I used to love.

But I couldn’t find a trace of him. New Victor just grabbed my hand and shoved the ring he’d shown me less than fifteen minutes ago onto my wedding finger.

Flutters went off in my belly when his hand made contact. This was the first time he’d touched me in four years….

He hated me now. But why did it feel the same as when we were seventeen-year-olds, and our hands accidentally grazed during our tutoring sessions? My hormones were all grown up, but they went just as crazy at his mere touch now as they did back then. Excited energy, dumb and electric, lit up all my nerve endings.

I jerked my eyes up to his face again. Had our first touch in four years affected Victor the same as it had me?

A weird hope lit in my heart, despite the circumstances.

But then he dropped my hand to sign, "This ring makes me your owner…I own you now."

And that small hope fizzled out as quickly as it had begun.

Victor turned back to the judge, and his expression remained impassive as he made legally-binding promises in perfect ASL. He was a cold winter day at the beginning of summer.

When the time came for me to put a ring on it, he pulled another band out of his inside pocket. But instead of handing it to me, he pushed it on his own finger before motioning to the judge to do my part of the ceremony.

The ring itself was a shock. It was exactly the same as mine. Two raised bars of titanium sandwiched between a band of onyx. My teenage self might’ve found matching rings romantic. Now I saw the rings for what they were, a shackle and lead with an invisible chain going from my finger to his.

I repeated back the judge’s words, but I barely registered them. I was too busy staring at the ring he hadn’t let me put on him, just like cops don’t let prisoners cuff themselves.

… I now declare you husband and wife.

The judge’s words drew me out of my daze.

The ceremony…

It was done.

I looked up at Victor and found him staring down at me, his black eyes glittering with anger…and something else. My throat tightened. I guessed this was the part where we were supposed to kiss.

He took a step forward, hovering as close as you can without actually touching. It didn’t matter. He didn’t have to touch me. My hormones did that crazy zap-zap-ping through my body just the same.

He leaned forward, and I braced. But at the last moment, he stepped back.

Thank you, he signed to the man who married us.

Then he walked away. Just walked away, leaving me there alone with the judge.

It was obvious—so, so obvious that he expected me to follow him. Wherever he led.

Face burning, I turned back to the judge to murmur, Thank you.

The judge gave me a considering look like he was heavily weighing his next words.

Listen, he said. "I don’t know what this marriage is to either of you or why you both have decided to go through with it.…"

He emphasized, you both have decided to go through with it, like he was also trying to convince himself of that blatant lie. But with these kind of marriages, the kind that begin in anger, my advice is to release the past, and whatever came before today. This marriage might have begun for certain reasons, but you and he can decide where it goes. You’re husband and wife now. Try to make this into the kind of union you want. I’ve seen others do it.

Husband and wife.

It certainly didn’t feel like that. And as for this marriage being anything other than a total nightmare, that wasn’t something I could fathom. Not anymore.

But this judge was trying to be kind. So I murmured another, Thank you before following my new husband into a marriage that would be filled with anger and bitterness, no matter what the judge advised.

Ten years….

How the hell was I going to get through this?

3

VICTOR

---

Did you marry her or kill her? Phantom asked when Victor came down the town hall steps alone.

His cousin was smoking a cigarette next to the Bentley they only used on special occasions. Victor frowned at the sight. Phantom had quit smoking a couple of years ago. Now he only lit up when he was stressed. Which strangely, was never when he was cracking heads, making deals, or slicing off various body parts on behalf of The Silent Triad.

However, this shit stressed him out. Victor knew because Phantom had told him that exactly before they drove up to Western Massachusetts.

Victor also knew his cousin’s question hadn’t been in jest. Phantom wouldn’t have judged him if he had decided to end Dawn’s life instead of marrying her. He might’ve even respected him for it.

As if confirming Victor’s thought, Phantom muttered, Killing her for what she did to your dad makes a helluva a lot more sense than this plan. Why didn’t you kill her again?

It was a good question. Too good. The molten black rage that had been simmering inside of him for four years rose to a boil. He wasn’t sure who he was angrier with at the moment. Phantom for asking the obvious or himself for not having a strong and comprehensible reply.

The easy answer to Phantom’s question was that simply murdering Dawn would’ve been too light a punishment. The harder and truer answer was that if Victor were capable of killing Dawn, he would have done so already.

He had no good excuse to give for this weakness. And he doubted his cousin would have accepted his best answer: She’s an open wound that I’m trying to heal. You don’t put bullets in open wounds.

She’ll be out soon, Victor assured Phantom without replying to other questions.

You sure about that? Phantom asked when another few minutes passed without any sign of her at the town hall’s double glass doors.

No, Victor wasn’t sure about that. Why hadn’t she arrived yet? Had she made a run for it, escaped through a bathroom window like in so many American movies? No. Where was there for her to go? Surely, she had guessed after waking up in the back of his car that wherever she went, wherever she tried to hide, he would hunt her down.

But then, Phantom introduced a possibility Victor hadn’t considered. Let me tell you, these American chicks are real fucking fragile. Sure you don’t want me to go in there? Make sure she didn’t slice her wrists in the toilet or something?

The thought of her doing that to escape made Victor’s throat burn. But he still carried his father’s voice in his head.

Show no weakness. He didn’t allow Phantom to go in after her. Victor held the course, and another two minutes passed. Phantom didn’t say anything else. But Victor could almost hear what his cousin was thinking as they watched the door.

That he was an idiot. That this whole plan was idiotic. That if Dawn had run away or offed herself, it would be what Victor deserved for being the idiot who had come up with the idiot plan.

Just when Victor didn’t think he could take it anymore, Dawn pushed through the town hall’s front entrance.

The sight of her hit him even harder than when Phantom first dumped her in the Bentley’s back seat.

He’d very rarely seen her out of her school uniform back in Japan. But now she was wearing a college t-shirt with a pair of cotton sports shorts. The outfit showed off all of her curves, hugging her hips and her large breasts. Meanwhile, the waist-length black braids she wore her hair in now swayed as she came bouncing down the stairs.

It was like watching a slo-mo reintroduction to the grown woman who’d replaced the girl he’d once known. And his body responded the same as it would have when he’d been a schoolboy. His cock stirred, and the kind of need he hadn’t felt in years—hot and urgent—suddenly flooded his body.

A memory floated back to him. Dawn sitting on his lap as they made out, and him having to shift her away from his instantaneous erection because he didn’t want to scare her with how fucking hard she made him.

He hated that his body still responded to her like this. Hated that she could make him feel anything when all the other women he had taken since her only made him feel numb.

What took you so long? Phantom demanded as she approached the car.

She looked directly at Victor as she answered his cousin’s question. I had to use the bathroom—like, really had to use it. I’m not sure how long ago you two kidnapped me, but I’m figuring it’s been hours. And before that, the judge held me back for a little conversation. Pretty sure he thought you were trafficking me like dear old dad.

Rage spiked inside of him that she would dare bring up his dead father. Also, they didn’t traffic women anymore. Han had insisted on cutting girls out of their product offerings when Victor asked him to help him create The Silent Triad. And they’d already let Kuang know that this was the one part of his business they refused to touch. But he didn’t want to give Dawn the satisfaction of telling her that.

And apparently, neither did Phantom.

Congratulations, Mrs. Zhang, he said with a mocking tone as he opened the back door. Hope you had a nice shit.

I did. Thanks for asking, Phan-Phan! she answered, her tone ten times as mocking. And congratulations to you, too. I just thought you were a little off when you broke into a high school to threaten three underaged boys. But you’ve really upped your psycho with this kidnapping stuff.

For once, Phantom didn’t have a smart comeback. And even if he had, she slipped into the car before she could receive his retort.

Something visible ticked in Phantom’s jaw as he asked Victor through clenched teeth, You sure about this, man?

No. No, Victor wasn’t sure at all.

She had changed, Victor noted. Gone was the girl who could barely look him in the eye. The sweet teenager who had always tried to be kind to his glowering cousin despite Phantom’s enmity was nowhere to be found.

That girl had been an illusion, Victor reminded himself. She had been playing him all along. He couldn’t let himself forget that he decided as he climbed into the car.

No matter how hard she made his cock.

Ten years. Ten years for her to rot, the same as his father would have if he had lived.

Ten years for him to inure himself to her. His only weakness.

He’d leave Dawn her family at the end of the sentence as he’d promised. But by the time he was done with her, family would no longer matter. He planned to break her, to destroy her mind and soul. The girl who played him for a fool would never hurt him again.

And then, he would finally be free. This, he assured himself as they drove away from the town hall.

4

DAWN

---

Are you taking me back to New York now? I asked as soon as Victor got into the car.

We’re married. Married! But he still sat across from me as an adversary. Not beside me like he used to insist on when we were in Japan.

No, he answered. Man, he loved that sign to death these days.

Then where are you taking me?

He didn’t answer.

And just in case you were wondering…no, getting the silent treatment from someone who can’t talk didn’t feel any less irritating.

I have to report in for an internship in New York on Monday, I pointed out. It’s a little clinic, and they need me there.

He began to sign before the words were entirely out of my mouth. Actually, you’ve already been replaced.

My stomach iced over at his answer. What do you mean?

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a device shaped like a rectangle.

My eyes widened because it looked like the iPhone 3GS that Steve Jobs had just announced at a special conference. But it couldn’t be. They weren’t even out yet.

Yet, here Victor was, extending a phone that looked exactly like the one showcased in the latest Stevenote to me.

I took it. Partly out of shock. Partly out of curiosity. Is this an iPhone 3GS? I asked. But how did you get this? I thought they weren’t coming out until June.

Check your email, he signed as if he didn’t hear any of my other questions.

I did as he said. I’d never had a smartphone. They’d come out the