Page 27 of Sinful Promises


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“Get your hands off her, now.”

A deafening silence followed as Dimitri slowly got off me and turned around. My heart raced, and my mind reeled as I pushed myself off the wall and looked over. But what I saw left me in shock.

There stood Dasha, right in front of me.

What was she doing here? How did she know Dimitri?

My mind struggled to make sense of it all.

“I won’t tell the boss anything if you leave now,” Dasha spoke, breaking the silence.

Boss?

“Now, Dasha, you know I was just playing with the girl. A little prank never hurt anyone,” he said with a fake smile.

My eyes remained fixed on Dasha, trying to process what was happening. She looked different—older, wearing makeup, which was unusual for her. Her deep raven-black hair was tucked into a low ponytail, and she wore a black silk skirt with a matching shirt. But it was the dark blood-red lipstick that caught me off guard the most. It was as if she was a stranger, not the Dasha I had known for more than twenty years.

Dasha had always been more than a maid to me; she was like a big sister. We had shared countless memories, from watching movies to playing in the pool together. She even used to take me to the supermarket and let me buy all the sweets my mom would never allow me to eat at home.

But now, as I slid down the wall and sat, hands cuffed to my face, hiding the tears, I couldn’t believe what was happening. It felt like the world had turned upside down, and the person I had trusted the most had betrayed me.

“Leave, pridurok, asshole,” she said firmly.

Fear paralyzed me, keeping my head low even after the footsteps had faded away. I couldn’t bear facing Dimitri’s menacing gaze again. Suddenly, a soothing hand began to stroke my hair.

“Mne tak zhal’, moya lyubov’. I am so sorry, my love.”

A sob escaped my lips. I struggled to compose myself, but her familiar scent and voice offered both comfort and alarm in this cold, foreign place.

“What are you doing here? Where am I? Where’s mama?” I fired off questions, desperate for answers.

“Calm down. I can’t stay long. You need to listen to me.”

Tears streamed down my face as I peered up through the blur. Though her face was barely visible, her voice revealed her sadness. I continued to sob as she gently cupped my face.

“Shh, listen to me,” she whispered urgently. “You must obey him. Please don’t resist, or they’ll hurt you like they hurt…”

“Get out.”

Dasha’s startled yelp was followed by the chilling sound of Dimitri’s voice, both frightening and unnervingly calm. It felt as if the world had stopped to hear what he would say next.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to imagine myself running through a lavender field in the South of France, far from this nightmare. But the minutes ticked by, and my tremors persisted.

Exhaustion took over, and I sobbed uncontrollably. Dasha’s hand stroked my head one last time before her footsteps faded and the door closed behind her.

The room fell into unbearable silence. Anxiety coursed through me, and I remained frozen, hoping that if I stayed still and breathed slowly, I might disappear. Counting to a hundred in my head distracted me from my tears, and surprisingly, it worked.

Once my tears dried, I wiped my cheeks but kept my eyes closed, preferring the darkness to whatever sinister plan he had in store.

The room's tension suddenly escalated, the air crackling with an electric charge. I could feel the heat emanating from him and the deliberate rhythm of his breathing.

Was this part of his twisted plan? To leave me drained and helpless while he reveled in my suffering? It felt as if I was a toy for him to control. I could almost see his satisfaction at my vulnerability.

Summoning my courage, I lifted my head and took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come. Meeting his dark gaze, I saw the same clothes he had worn earlier—his shirt even more crumpled, but his slicked-back hair still exuding a devious charm. He stood inches away from the door, giving an illusion of space and freedom, and I rolled my eyes at his false gentlemanly demeanor.

“I guess you won’t meet your papa today.”

My eyes widened.

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