Page 102 of Bound By Hate (Born in Blood)

“I have too much pride to say.”

“Tell me.”

I sigh and face away from him. I can only say this if I’m not looking into his eyes. “Damien embarrassed me. He rejected me. Whenever I see him, I’m reminded of that. And now, he wants my sister.”

“So, is this jealousy?” I can hear the tinge of jealousy in his own voice.

“No! I’m not jealous. I don’t want Damien for myself. I just want … I just want to not feel anything for a moment. I don’t want to be reminded that I messed up.”

“How did you mess up?”

“I chose Gleb.”Over you.

“That’s in the past now, Viktoriya.”

“Is it? He’s still out there. You and Mikhail haven’t found him yet. He could come back to hurt Mila or me. He never did get his money from us.”

“If he shows his face again, I will fucking murder him. That’s my promise to you.”

I suck in a shaky inhale. “Thank you.”

“Can you make a promise to me? Promise me you’ll leave that behind you. You’ll be with me in the present. Focus on us and nothing else.”

Easier said than done. My demons will always haunt me. I know it.

So, I can’t promise Aleksander anything. All I can do is smile and give him a small kiss on the lips. I kiss him because I want to.

Because it feels good to feel good.

Chapter

Sixteen

VIKTORIYA

The curtain draws back, and I step onto the stage. The low, dulcet tone of the music begins to swell, and I start to dance. My body moves effortlessly across the stage. I stand on pointe in my ballet shoes without any trouble. It’s like breathing to me. I am the star. Everyone is looking at me.

I spin faster and faster and faster, then land perfectly. The crowd watches me in awe. The men and women who have come to see me dance are getting what they paid for me. I’m putting on the show of a lifetime.

No, wait. Not women. Just men. Only men are in the audience, staring back at me. Instead of watching me dance, they hold up paddles. Why? What are they doing?

I stumble slightly. The men boo at me to get off the stage. I stumble again. My feet feel like cement underneath me. Why can’t I do this? I should be perfect. Always perfect. That’s what my father expected from me. The perfect ice queen who showed no fear.

I dance faster to impress the men, but they’re talking to each other and throwing dismissive glances my way. They don’t care about me. They don’t care about the hard work and countless hours I’ve put into being perfect.

And that’s when it happens.

I stumble once more, but it’s not just something I can walk away from. My ankle snaps under me, and I fall to the ground, screaming and screaming and screaming. None of the men even look in my direction.

I’m invisible to them.

I’m just a woman.

The pain becomes unbearable. Just when I’m about to black out …

I wake up.

Gasping, my eyes open, and my heart beats so fast it hurts as it pounds against my ribcage. My broken rib is slowly healing, but right now, all I can feel is pain.

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