Page 18 of Sergei
The thought was almost laughable.
I hadn’t been in control in years, if ever, and it didn’t look like that was going to change any time soon.
Sergei walked me over to a sleek, black Mercedes, and without saying a word, he yanked the passenger door open and all but tossed me inside. I tried my best not to wince or make a sound as I got in the car. As soon as I was seated, he slammed the door so hard it made me flinch. I watched through the window as he stormed around the hood and opened the driver’s side door.
Before getting inside, he turned back to the casino and called out, “Bog!”
The guard who’d met me at the door stepped forward and said, “Yeah, Boss.”
“Double the watch at the doors and the apartment. I want all hands-on deck. Now!”
“Understood.”
With that, Sergei slid in behind the wheel and started the engine. He didn’t look at me. He didn’t speak. He just gripped the wheel and peeled out of the parking lot. I had a million questions rushing through my mind, but I didn’t dare ask a single one. I was afraid he might actually explode, so I remained silent.
Thankfully, it was a short ride to his condo, and in a matter of minutes, we were through the front door and in the elevator. The ride up to the penthouse was brutally long and undeniably awkward. I didn’t know what to say or do, and it didn’t help matters that Sergei was acting like I’d purposefully ruined his night.
It was that thought that had my rattled nerves turning into a simmering irritation. I hadn’t asked for this. I hadn’t asked for him. I wanted Viktor’s help. Not his. Yet, here I was, standing next to him in this stupid elevator, praying that I had the strength to get through this.
I turned and caught a glimpse of myself in the elevator mirror, and I was mortified by my appearance. I was pale and wide-eyed, like a stranger caught in a storm she hadn’t seen coming. Sergei kept his eyes trained ahead, and he refused to look at me as the elevator doors opened and he led me down the long, narrow hall.
I didn’t have much time to look around, but his apartment was beautiful. The ceilings were stretched high with walls of glass that gave way to a gorgeous view of the city. Every piece of furniture was sleek, modern, and expensive. Everything matched. All flawless lines and symmetry.
It was perfect.Too perfect.
It felt cold and empty. Not lived in or warm. Not like a place someone would callhome,but I didn’t care what it looked like. It was a safe haven for me.
He stopped in the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water and some Tylenol before continuing down the hall. He opened the door to the massive guest bedroom and dropped my suitcase on the floor. He lifted the bottle of Tylenol as he ordered, “Take a couple of these. Looks like you could use them.”
“Okay. Thank you,” I replied in barely a whisper.
I hoped it would soften his anger, but his expression didn’t change.
He just stood there, glaring at me like a bug on the bottom of his shoe.
And just like that, something deep within me roared back to life. It was something I thought Alek had crushed a long time ago, but sure enough, my backbone had miraculously returned.
I inhaled a deep breath and stepped towards him and said, “Look, I don’t want to be here any more than you want me to be here. But right now, I don’t have a choice. I have nowhere else I can go, but trust me when I say, I’ll leave as soon as I can figure something else out.”
I expected him to be happy that I would soon be gone. I thought it was what he wanted, and that he’d be more than happy to send me on my way. What I didn’t expect was for him to take a charging step forward and tower over me as he growled, “You aren’t going anywhere.”
“But…”
“You are staying here, Alina.End of discussion.”
With that, he turned and walked out of the room.
Damn.
7
SERGEI
She thinks I’m angry with her, and I don’t want her here.
I don’t, but that’s not why I’m angry.
In fact, it has little to do with her and everything to do with Alek. He had taken his role as husband of a beautiful, intelligent, incredible woman and used it to hurt her. And not only that, but he’d found joy in that shit, just like my father had. Fuck. It pissed me off even more that Alek had me thinking about my father.
