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“The mistake you made was being born as Vlad and Victoria’s child,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. “That’s the price you have to pay.”
“It’s not like it’s my fault!” I spat out, rising from my seat.
How could he be so oblivious to the fact that we don’t choose our family or our lives?
He casually shrugged and continued smoking, as if my entire existence wasn’t at stake within the next ten hours.
My breath quickened, and I clenched my fists to suppress their trembling.
I had never felt such intense anger before—I wanted to yank out my hair and set this house ablaze, with everyone inside.
But I had to find a glimmer of hope amidst it all; at least I would soon be free.
“What about my mama?” I choked out.
He met my gaze, his eyes filled with amusement. “Helena won’t leave the country alive, I can assure you of that.”
“I won’t leave without her,” I sobbed, my knees buckling, forcing me back into my chair.
I buried my face in my hands, trying to stifle my tears.
“We’re leaving tomorrow no matter what you want,” he said, moving around the room. I heard the sound of a bottle popping open. I raised my head, hands resting under my chin, and watched as he poured himself a glass of wine.
Who drinks wine at eight in the morning?
I was on the verge of snapping back at him, ready to unleash my frustration, but a sudden unease washed over me. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and a chilling shiver cascaded down my arms. My breath hitched in my throat as I crossed my hands tightly on my lap, my unwavering gaze still locked on Alexsei.
He casually lifted his glass to his lips, his eyes fixated on something—or rather, someone—behind me.
His arched eyebrows hinted at a teasing amusement as he settled back into his chair.
I knew precisely who stood behind me, my body instinctively recognizing him long before my mind caught up. The goosebumps on my arms served as undeniable proof.
I couldn’t bring myself to turn and face Volk, not after what happened last night.
The soreness between my legs and the marks on my chest were constant reminders of him.
I didn’t want to see his face, but I felt his presence like a heat against my back. The tension was electric, my breath shallow and fast.
I could almost feel his hands on me again.
I stayed frozen caught between anger and an undeniable, unwanted desire
“You’re back early,” Alexsei scoffed, reaching for his phone.
“Ubiraysya k chertu, Go to hell,” Volk’s voice cut through the tension, sending a swarm of butterflies fluttering in my lower stomach.
I tried to brush off the sensation, biting my lip nervously.
The way he spoke, all harsh and on the verge of losing it, made it crystal clear he was pissed.
I just had no clue why.
Alexsei got up, taking his glass with him.
As he made his way toward me, he plonked the glass down in front of me.
“You need this more than I do,” he said, patting me on the shoulder. “Good luck.”
