Victor: Her Ruthless Crush by Theodora Taylor (beach read book TXT) 📕

Still, I gasped and bolted into a seated position when I found Victor sitting across from me.

So, he was the guy I saw yesterday.

Today’s suit wasn’t white. It was dark blue and went perfectly with the tan leather seat framing him from behind. I wildly wondered if he had dressed to match the car’s interior.

He was still so insanely hot. It was hard to look at him. However, he was much thinner—no, thin wasn’t the right word. His body was still packed with muscle underneath his jacket, but his face wasn’t as filled out as I remember. Its lines were sharper, angrier. He looked even more like a raven now. A portrait of cold, black raven rage.

As shocked as I was to see him, he didn’t so much as flinch when I sat up so abruptly after finding myself in the back of his car.

He said nothing. Did nothing. He seemed to be waiting for me to speak.

So I did with my heart beating in my throat. “What's going on? What am I doing here?”

Victor regarded me for a long, cold moment. Then he raised his hands to ask, “Have you forgotten your CSL? You did such a good job learning it to trick me.”

Both my mom and Byron had hearing implants now. And even if they didn't, I barely saw them. I barely used ASL these days. Much less, CSL.

But I gave it the proverbial college try, just to say as best I could in my old mash-up of ASL and CSL, “Yes, I forgot it. I didn’t know there would be a test.”

Another cold beat. Honestly, it was like getting stared down by an iceberg. Then: “You are less afraid than when I saw you last. Or perhaps this is the real you now that you are no longer acting.”

“I was never acting,” I answered, my ASL coming back, along with a rush of anger. “Not like you were.”

He crooked his head, a lion regarding a mouse. “Yet, it is you who are living a happy and carefree life in America after destroying everything my father built.”

I could argue with him, sure. I could try to defend myself. But people don’t order their goons to drug and kidnap other people when they’re honestly open to hearing their kidnappee’s side of the story.

“So this is about revenge?” I asked, trying not to let how scared and confused I was seep into my voice. Also, I had to substitute in the signs for FIGHT and PAYBACK since I didn’t remember the one for REVENGE.

“We are here for many reasons. Revenge.” Of course, he used the correct ASL sign for that word. “Also, H-O-N-O-R—I am spelling that out because I am sure you don't know the sign for that word.”

He was right about that, damn him. But instead of confirming it, I asked, “So what exactly is honorable about drugging and kidnapping me from my dorm room?”

“I think you forgot what day it is.”

No, actually, I knew exactly what day it was.

May 25th.

It was the day that we were supposed to have gotten married. The most important day in our alternative timeline.

I'd been trying not to note our never-anniversary for four years. But I didn’t want to play Victor's game, so I raised my hands to ask and sign, “Why am I here? Why did you drug and kidnap me?”

Damn rusty ASL. I said the word “kidnap” out loud but had to settle for putting extra emphasis on the sign for TAKE.

A smile formed on his lips but didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Your father has gone undercover with a Mexican cartel now. Maybe he does not know that the world has changed. We are no longer as separate as we were in the past. Our organizations—mine especially—work together with other organizations. We share information for mutual benefit.”

He was finally smiling, but his words rolled my stomach.

Suddenly, I was all out of “less afraid” responses, and my throat clogged up with horror.

Victor continued as if he hadn’t just threatened to out my dad to a group of infamously brutal gangsters.

“And I hear your brother has dropped out of college and decided to become a police officer. How nice that he is following in your father’s footsteps. I hope he doesn't get killed by an unknown criminal while performing his job. That would be very sad for your mother. She would only have you then. And I imagine you would feel very guilty about what your actions brought down on your family.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, helpless anger competing with abject fear for control of my mouth. They both won. “So you’re threatening my entire family now?”

“No,” he answered right away.

But any relief I might've felt disappeared when he informed me, “I'm promising to destroy your family, unless…”

He stopped there, that malignant smile of his spreading even wider to reveal his perfect white teeth.

I waited and waited. But the car filled with more silence until I was forced to ask, “Unless what? What could possibly keep you from hurting them? From hurting me?”

He honestly seemed to consider my question before answering, “Ten years.”

I didn't understand. “Ten years? What do you mean ten years?”

“I've done some calculations. And I’ve decided that ten years of ownership is what I would require as payback for what you did.”

I shook my head at him. Confusion and fear twisted my stomach. “Ownership? Ownership of what? What could I possibly have that you want?”

He stared at me for a few dead-eyed seconds. Then he said, “Of course I'm talking about ownership of you, Dawn.”

The water composition in a woman’s body ranges from 45% to 65%. I learned about that in excruciating detail to get my degree. But my throat dried out as if there was no liquid to be had in my body at all.

After several tries, I managed to raise my hands to ask, “What exactly would this ownership entail?”

Instead of answering me, he looked out the