The Mercenaries Mafia Don [M\M]

24 - Twenty - Four - Nikita Russo's Point Of View.

It was no surprise when I woke up first, and Viktor was laying there peacefully unaware that I was watching him. The only time this man looked this peaceful was when he was just like this, asleep. I understood it, though. We both lived a hard and unforgiving life. But that was just how our cards were dealt. We just maximized the value of those cards. Snuggling closer to him, I reached out and brushed my fingers over his cheek. His eyes flicked open, and I felt bad.

"Mmm, what time is it?"

"I really don't know. I didn't look. I just woke up, and I wanted to touch you. I'm sorry for waking you." I said.

"Shh." Viktor grumbled, and pulled me right against him. "Back to sleep, you go."

"We go." I mumbled into his chest.

He didn't respond, and I was pretty sure he was sleeping again. Oh well, that was alright. I could still admire him even while pressed up against him. I slowly wriggled against him, feeling the warmth of his body and the weight of his arms around me. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to drift back off to sleep, content.

The sound of a gunshot woke me up, and nearly trampled Viktor trying to get to the door, and find out what the hell was going on.

"Stay here. I'll find out—"

"Like hell!" I yelled at him. Pissed off at his choice of words. I was just as fucking capable as he was. Viktor and I both stumbled down the staircase. Delaney witnessed the entire situation as he walked in.

"I warned him that shooting that off would wake you two. But no, of course I'm ignored. Before you ask, no one died, nor is anyone in danger. The former don purchased a vintage gun and wanted to test it out. His excitement got the better of him."

Viktor nodded, turned and grabbed me. "Clear my day. I'm only interested in Nikita."

"Viktor! You have things you need—-"

"I don't remember you ever being this loud. Maybe I should give you something to quiet you down," he hummed, and I knew what he meant. He pulled me back upstairs with him and to the bedroom. "What to do with my free day with you?"

"Your work." I said, and he turned back to me and frowned. He stepped into the closet and brought some things out with him.

"Get dressed. I know some things we can do," he said, and set clothing for me on the bed and I looked over them and debated asking him what the hell it was that we were doing. The sweat pants on the bed were slim fitting and the ones he grabbed for himself weren't. The shirt and sweater he picked weren't mine, not even close. They were brand names I wouldn't waste a cent on. I destroyed clothing too much to shop name brands, designer brands with knife slashes, blood, and bullet holes. I think not.

"These aren't mine." I said.

"No, they are. If you check, they are your size." Viktor said in a tone of voice that taunted me to ask him where it came from, but I knew better. Viktor had bought them for me, and there was probably more where it came from. This man had no problem showering me with gifts and money I didn't need. That was just how he was with me, and I didn't understand it.

"I wish you would stop spending your money on things like this for me, Viktor." I said, putting the outfit he picked out for me on.

He looked at me with a smirk and said, "Don't worry, you'll get used to it." I rolled my eyes and walked to the bathroom to deal with my hair. I didn't want to get used to him spending his money on me. It made me uncomfortable. I didn't deserve any of it.

Wetting my hair in the sink, I grabbed a towel and dried it slightly before attempting to run a brush through the unruly mess. Viktor came to help after he cleaned himself up and got dressed. He was far more patient with my hair than I was. If I had been alone, and not married to him, I would have cut it back to shoulder length again.