Page 97 of Bound By Hate (Born in Blood)

Aleksander thrusts into me once, twice, three more times before he comes next. He groans, breathing heavily.

He pulls out of me and gets off the bed. I’m instantly colder without his touch. Still, he doesn’t take the blindfold off or untie me.

“I’m going to ask again.” His voice makes me startle. “Do you trust me?”

Do I trust him? Aleksander has shown I’m safe with him. That all he wants is for me not to hurt myself.

I know what my answer is.

“I’m starting to.”

Chapter

Fifteen

VIKTORIYA

Sofiya shows up at my door the next day.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“I wanted to see how you were doing. After the ballet yesterday … You tackled Vera, Vik. That’s not normal.”

I open the door wider for her. “I take it you want to come in.”

We settle in the living room, each on opposite couches, almost like we’re squaring off for a fight. Sofiya and I have had a lot of fights over the years.

“I just want to know if you’re ok.” Sofiya’s empathy surprises me. I was prepared for her to scold me for how I acted—not try to understand me.

“I’m fine, Sofiya.” I cross my arms and lean back in my seat.

“You don’t sound fine.”

I’m a mess, is what I am. I’ve never been a mess in my life. Between missing dance and my complicated feelings for Aleksander, I don’t even recognize myself right now. I’m changing, and I’m not sure if it’s for the better or worse.

“I didn’t ask you to come here to psychoanalyze me. So, you can go if that’s what you’re doing.”

Sofiya looks me over with sadness in her eyes. I know I’ve put it there. “I just wanted to extend an olive branch. We’re both married now. Our lives are completely different than they were over a year ago. Our parents are dead. You and me and Mila, we’ve all been hurt. It’s understandable if you’re struggling.”

I flip my hair over my shoulder. “Do I look like I’m struggling?”

“Yes.”

I blink and slowly uncross my arms. “I could ask you the same question. Are you struggling?”

“Are you deflecting?”

“Just answer my question,” I snap.

Sofiya sighs. “Mikhail and I are trying to have a baby. It’s been months now, and I still haven’t gotten pregnant. I’m struggling with that.”

Her honesty shocks me. Sofiya and I have always competed with one another. Our father made it so. She rarely told me anything about her feelings.

Probably because I tend to push her away.

I know I’m doing it again now. She’s being honest with me, and I could do the same. I could tell her about my eating disorder. Because that’s what I have. There’s no use denying it any longer. I’m hurting myself, and I want to stop. Aleksander wants me to stop.

I just don’t know how to accept kindness in my life. In ballet, there was never any room for kindness, not if I wanted to get to the top.

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