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I quickly grabbed her hand, but as she clicked, a bullet erupted from the gun, piercing my right thigh.
I couldn’t help but curse out loud, dropping her hand.
I clutched my leg, blood flowing down and staining my pants.
“Tell Vlad, I’ll see him in hell.”
I raised my head just enough to witness her pulling the trigger and shooting herself in the head.
Her body fell to the floor with a loud thump as Dve barged into the room, the door slamming against the wall.
Dve shook his head, his face contorted with disgust.
“What a fucking shitshow,” he muttered.
?
“I can’t believe it,” Sofiya whispered, her breath shaky.
Her eyes were puffy, and a rosy hue colored her cheeks. Even in that state, she looked breathtaking.
I was trapped in a fucking tug-of-war inside my mind. One part of me wanted to run my fingers through her smooth dark hair, hold her face, and claim her lips to show her I’d protect her. But the other part wanted to teach her a lesson for intruding into my life and tearing down the walls I’d built long ago.
It felt like a brutal conflict between wanting to cherish her and wanting to push her away. And I didn’t know which side would fucking win.
I just stood there, motionless, as she gave me one last, mournful glance and then exited the room. Her fragrance lingered like a phantom, leaving me alone in a storm of conflicting thoughts and sinful desires.
Chapter
Twenty-Six
“We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.”
? Plato
Sofiya
I swirled my spoon in the cup, lost in thought as Dasha vacuumed the living room. The dust swirled around, a cruel reminder of my allergy.
She’d been bustling about for hours, eventually dragging me out of bed when she found me hiding under the covers. I despise early mornings—they’re torturous. In my dreams, I wake without an alarm, letting my body rise whenever it pleases. Dasha knew this, and she seemed to take pleasure in disrupting my peace with her relentless morning routines.
“The tea’s cold,” I complained, breaking the silence.
“Then warm it up, Sofiya,” she retorted, pausing her vacuuming to clean the large window. I glanced out the dining room windows at the porch and the cars outside. Volk’s SUV was missing but I quickly tried to push him from my thoughts.
He is a liar, he is a liar, he is a?—
“Your father will be back in three days.”
Dasha’s words shattered the peaceful silence like a crashing plane.
“Which one? Vlad or Igor?” I asked, my throat tight.
Her face turned pale, and she dropped the dishcloth she was holding. Her trembling hands betrayed her fear. I realized that Volk wasn’t lying after all.
“I-I…” she stuttered.
“Don’t bother. Volk told me everything.”
