Page 117 of Wicked Proposal
I can’t tear my gaze away from the scene. From Brad’s wrist caught in Yulian’s vise, like a butterfly about to be crushed. How often did I dream of this, back then? That someone—anyone—would swoop in and save me?
And why is guilt all I can feel now that it’s happening?
Because you know how much it’s costing him,the wicked voice at the back of my head whispers.His business will suffer because of you. His company will suffer because of you. Even that young, peppy engineer that just talked your ear off for half an hour—they’llallsuffer because of you.
Everybody suffers because of you.
Even your own son.
After a long staring contest, Brad clicks his tongue in disdain. “Fine,” he scoffs. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Yulian. There’s nothing worth doing here anyway.”
He sneers at me as he says it. One last, vulgar humiliation.
Yulian doesn’t let go.
“Boss,” Maksim’s voice comes in a whisper. “Your investors are looking.”
It’s true. There’s a small crowd around us. As the argument got more and more heated, the guests must have gotten curious.
Again, everyone is watching.
Again, it’s all my fault.
Finally, Yulian throws Brad’s arm back down. “Go,” he spits. “And stay out of my sight.”
Brad rubs his wrist, his lips curled into a grimace. He was always good at that—pretending nothing touched him. That pain wasn’t pain unless he willed it to be.
“Gladly,” he replies.
Then he turns to me.
His smirk falls back into place. Cruel, sharp—a weapon. “See you around, sweet thing.”
It’s a promise. Like all those horrible promises he made to me over that wretched summer.
You’re mine. All mine.
You belong to me. No one else can touch you unless I say so.
I will never let you go.
The second he’s gone, I bolt towards the door on the opposite end of the hall.
“Mia!” Yulian calls after me, but I barely hear it. My head is pounding, blood rushing in my ears, drowning out all sound.
I run to the end of the deserted hallway. My left heel twists and snaps off, throwing me off-balance, sending me careening into the pristine white tiles.
The pain barely registers.
You’re mine.
Suddenly, I can’t breathe.
All mine, sweet thing.
Suddenly, I can’t see.
I will never, never, NEVER?—
