I back away fromthe door, my hand flying to my mouth to muffle any sound that might escape.
"I care for no one but the bratva, and I shall love none other than the bratva."
Those words by themselves are bad enough, but coupled with his pleasant and almost friendly tone with Grant Bennett.
The same man who destroyed my life.
My stomach lurches, and an unexpected wave of nausea surges through me.
Was this all a game to him? Every touch, every kiss, and every whispered promise in the dark? When he held me against his chest and swore to destroy the man who hurt me…
Was he laughing at me the whole time?
My vision blurs with tears, but I refuse to let them fall. Not here. Not yet.
I turn away from the door and start walking.
Of course it was all fake. How could I be so fucking stupid? This is what powerful men like Bennet and Anatoly do. They don't see little people like me as people, just pieces to move around their board. Pieces to use so that they can get what they want.
And once they do, pieces to be thrown away carelessly like a used condom.
I keep my eyes fixed on the floor as I walk faster and faster down the hallway.
You stupid, stupid girl!
I gave him everything from my body to the pieces of my soul I've never shared with others.
I let him see my scars.
I fuckingbeggedfor him.
He told you from the start what this was,a nasty little voice reminds me as I rush further down the hall. He married you to control Bennett. He never pretended otherwise. Everything he did, he did it in service ofthat.
I'm practically running, desperate to get away from his office, his voice, and the crushing weight of my own naivety.
A single tear finally escapes the corner of my eyes. I don't bother wiping it away as I run. But where can I even run to? Where can I run that he won't find me? Where can I run that he won't just drag me back here to this mansion and back into his bed?
But I don't care. I duck my head down and continue running.
That's when I slam into something solid.
When I look up through my tears, my heart plummets away.
Vassily.
His lips are curled into that familiar predatory smile as he looks me up and down. I start backing up slowly, and only then do I notice that he's not alone.
Valentina stands behind him like a vengeful specter.
Those cold gray eyes of hers take in my disheveled state with undisguised contempt.
"Well," she says, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "What have we here?"
Genuine terror now washes over me as I stare at Valentina. Without Anatoly's protection that I foolishly thought I had, I'm suddenly aware of just how vulnerable I am.
How easily she and Vassily might be able to hurt me if they want to.
"What are you doing in this part of the house?" Valentina asks, her voice sharp enough to cut glass.