Page 43 of Captivated By the Bratva

I couldn’t.

Instead, I turned and hurried out of the hotel suite. Armed with nothing but my determination to live my life on my terms, as I saw fit, I walked as quickly as I could down the corridor. Sprinting would have felt better. Running hard would’ve given my body a way to vent out this pent-up energy that this adrenaline rush created. It would also alarm other guests and the staff, and I didn’t need anyone following me anywhere and seeing what I was doing.

No one stopped me. I passed by a few guests and a couple of housekeepers pushing carts, but no one paid me any attention.

Skirting past the tall plants in the front lobby, I avoided getting too close to the front desk. I didn’t need anyone up there to notice me, and I knew three cameras were anchored high on the walls. I spotted them last night when I scoped out the room.

The second I set foot outside, I breathed in a deep inhale. It didn’t clear my mind. I felt dizzy, nauseated with the rush of running after realizing how much I wanted to stay with Maxim for the sake of his company alone.

It felt so wrong to run, but at the same time, necessary. This was all I could do.

Taking one step, then another, I put my escape plan into action. With every fall of my foot on the sidewalk, my doubts and second thoughts pinged in my weary mind.

I didn’twantto leave Maxim’s side. I missed him already. His charming smugness. That easy, instant need of his to protect and provide for me.

Hewasmy rescuer. My hero. But as long as he wanted to also contribute to shackling me with Lev, he had to be my enemy.

I alternated between a fast walk and a slight jog as drizzle began to fall. With how humid it was, it felt like moisture rose and fell, mixing in a thickness right at my height. I never minded the heat. I hardly ever gave the weather much attention. Right now, it felt like a block, like the atmosphere itself was clawing at me, suffocating me.

I panted, even though I was rested and not exerting myself too much with this hasty walk-jog. The panic of potentially being caught hung over me heaviest, like a cloud of doom that I’d never lose.

I’d never felt more alone than this moment as I scurried away from the hotel.

I was solo, a single woman hurrying like the devil was on my tail. No one waited nearby to offer me assistance. I didn’t have any backup prepared to help me.

All my life, I’d felt like that. My dad had never cared to be close to me. Knowing I had to live a life on the run and hide from the man I didn’t want to marry, my solitude and independence were gifts. They were benefits that helped me.

After spending the little time I had with Maxim, though, I wished I could lean on him again. For his protection. For his affection. Just for his presence to ground me.

I will always miss him.

That was a fact, but I still could not bring myself to turn around and sacrifice myself to Lev Avilov.

I refused to live with an old sadist like him. I simply couldn’t.

Before, I refused on the principle of it. I told my father no on the basis that I didn’t enjoy the feeling that I was chattel, athingto be promised to another.

Now that I knew how good it could be with Maxim, that fate was triply worse to consider.

I rolled my eyes as I rounded a corner too quickly, stubbing my toes on a high crack in the sidewalk.

I mean, yeah, the sex was good, but…

But I had nothing to compare it to. I was hooked on the memory of how good it felt with Maxim, but I was aware that my experiences in that department were limited.

He’d taken my virginity. I hadn’t been saving it for anyone, but I was damned glad I gave that honor to Maxim. He just knew how to drive me wild. He was somehow intelligent enough to know how to make me come so hard. I wasn’t sure if it was a display of how experienced he was from having many other women or if he just somehow knew how to read me expertly like that.

I hated the chance that I was getting hung up on Maxim because he was my first, because he was so good at fucking me hard with a perfect balance of pain and pleasure.

I mentally chided myself for becoming attached to him, especially this quickly. As someone who prided herself on being independent, it was a huge drop.

But it wasn’t a matter of being wowed. It wasn’t just the case of enjoying good sex and wanting more.

It was him.

For a few fleeting moments, I’d dared to think that we fit. That we meshed so well.

I turned, unable to shake this sixth sense of being watched. Even though I was bombarded with thoughts about Maxim and questioning myself as I ran from him, this feeling of being watched and chased wouldn’t cease. Fearing someone stalking me was the norm now.

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