Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
As Lydia walked toward the school, one of her books fell from the large pile. She bent to pick it up.
“Lydia,” her father muttered. “Don’t be so damn clumsy.”
Always scolding, always dismissive and harsh. Viktor didn’t know how anyone could withstand the constant berating. Did it make her feel small and unworthy? From what he’d seen, her father was relentless.
In his eyes, Lydia was neither overweight nor clumsy—she’d developed earlier than her other classmates, all curves and voluptuous temptation, and she simply hadn’t grown into her own body yet.
And who the hell were they, anyway? Who decided what her body should look like, and who decided it didn’t meet some set of random fucking expectations?
She was perfect.
Viktor stood taller and glanced at the time. He had seven and a half more minutes before he’d have to jog to get there on time.
Lydia’s father frowned and sat up straighter. “I’ll be here to pick you up today. We have something urgent to discuss,” her father said, glancing at his watch.
“Yes, Father,” she said in a clear, graceful voice. “See you then.”
As the car left, she stepped forward and wobbled. A few of the boys made derisive comments. The leader winked at a tall, slender blonde girl exiting a silver Mercedes behind Lydia. They shared a look when the girl pressed her finger on her nose and wrinkled it at the girl as if mimicking a pig. Snickers erupted all around them.
Fucking spoiled, pretentious brats. Viktor delighted in imagining how he would punish them all.
“Lydia! You okay?” A thin girl, a full head shorter than Lydia, sidled up beside her. Maybe he’d spare that one.
“I’m good, thanks,” she said in that beautiful voice that haunted his dreams.
The first bell rang. It was time to go. If he showed up late, he’d be in deep shit. Kolya didn’t warn twice.
The blonde walked in front of the boys, standing tall and flaunting her breasts. She’d left a few of the buttons on her uniform shirt undone, her meager breasts pushed up on display. Pretending to sneeze, she made a big production of scattering tissues in Lydia’s direction. Laughter erupted all around them. Lydia’s pretty cheeks pinked.
Viktor’s growl rumbled deep in his chest. This particular girl had been hinting at Lydia stuffing her bra for weeks now. Jealousy was an evil little bitch.
“Morning, Lydia,” the girl said with fake camaraderie. “Need help?”
“No.” Lydia held herself erect, not trusting the girl. She held her head high and turned away. The boys watched on and snickered.
“Fine,” the girl said, shaking her head. “Not sure why you have to bring so many books home anyway. Show-off,” she muttered under her breath. She flicked her hair over her shoulder and turned to walk away as one of the boys, the tallest and obvious leader of the group, discreetly stuck his foot out.
Viktor risked coming out of the shadows. If he could—fuck.
Lydia stumbled but quickly righted herself. Her cheeks flushed, and she turned on the boy.
“You fucking asshole! You did that on purpose!”
Pride surged in his chest.
Atta girl.
“Lydia!” A sharp voice came from several paces ahead where a tall woman with her hair in a merciless bun at the nape of her neck marched over to them. Snickers erupted all around them as she approached. “Come here at once.”
Viktor's gaze hardened. Lydia might have stood up to him today, but it left her more vulnerable than ever to the cruelty of her classmates. His protective instinct, already fiercely attuned to her, flared. He could not stand by while she was mocked and isolated.
Stepping forward, his presence immediately silenced the group. His voice, when he spoke, was low but carried an unmistakable threat. “You find something funny? Maybe you'd like to share the joke with me.”
The snickers died in their throats. Lydia, her gaze flicking briefly from the teacher heading her way then to Viktor, seemed to straighten even more, her eyes meeting his with a silent thank you that said she knew, at least for today, she wasn’t alone against them.
No words passed between them, only a quiet understanding before her teacher reached her.
“This is the last straw, Miss Ivanova,” the woman said severely. “But soon you’ll be no bother to me. Perhaps your father will tell you of his recent decision and how it impacts your attendance here.”
Lydia stared and paled. “They were—”
“I don’t care what they were doing,” the teacher dismissed.
Viktor kept careful note of all of them. The tall, pompous football player. The stuck-up blonde. The critical teacher.
They would all pay, and he would take his sweet time making it hurt.
“What are you talking about?” Lydia marched after the teacher. Her bag was slightly open, and a few papers and a slim, well-worn paperback book fell to the ground. Viktor bent and picked them up, but when he went to give them to her, she was gone.