“I am not,” I hissed. “If you think for one second, I’d have anything to do with you, you are crazy.”
“I probably am crazy,” he replied calmly. “People do call me the Mad Russian Sinner.”
“What?” What the hell was he talking about?
“People call me-”
I cut him off. “I don’t give a shit about you or what people call you. I want my phone back. I will call my parents and tell them what happened. There is no way in hell I am staying here or marrying you.”
“I already informed your parents what has transpired.” Who in the fuck is this guy sitting there? He wasn't the Sergei I knew.
“I don’t believe you,” I spat out. “My dad would kill you if he knew what you had done.”
“Well, he knows.” I didn’t want to believe him but I had a bad feeling he wasn’t lying. “After breakfast, I’ll let you call from my phone so you can talk to your parents.”
My blood simmered and my body was so on edge, my muscles actually cramped from the tension. I rolled my shoulders back and I heard my shoulder bones crack. I felt my whole body could snap along with my false bravado.
“Scarlett, you seem too tense. Maybe you should go for a jog,” he suggested causally. Was he mocking me? Trying to insinuate to something? “It could help you relax.”
I swore I wanted to kill him with my stare. He was purposely trying to agitate me. There was no trace of the charming man from a few weeks back.
“Fuck running,” I spat at him. “What are you trying to say? My ass is big?”
“No, your ass is perfect,” he replied calmly.
“It is?” The question slipped before I thought better of it. I shook my head. He was trying to distract me. “I want to call my dad.”
I eyed Sergei suspiciously, trying to determine what his game was. My eyes shifted to Michail and he immediately put his hands up in the air.
“I know nothing,” he mumbled and stood up. “I’m here just to keep you two safe. I’m going to check into security.”
He left, and thick silence enveloped the room, the clinking of Sergei’s silverware against his porcelain plate the only sound. The signs of the man I fell in love with were gone. This man in front of me was an unmoving mask.
“I hate your guts,” I whispered. I didn’t know why I felt the need to say it. It wouldn’t mean anything to him. He never even paused eating, not even a linger of his hand. No emotion at all crossed his face.
“It is a thin line between hate and love,” he replied, his eyes back on me.
I stared at this man who took my body, heart, and soul and realized he was a complete stranger to me. I fell for him fast and hard, without knowing him at all. I loved a man that was a figment of my own imagination. That first week of us together, I thought he was genuine but it was all a lie. He wasn’t that person at all. While my brain understood that, my body didn’t.
I stood up, unwilling to be around him anymore. “I want to talk to my dad as soon as possible. I’ll be in the back garden.”
I left him without a backwards glance and walked in rushed steps towards the back garden. I would not cry. I would not cry. Damn it, I would not cry!
Angrily, I wiped the tears threatening to spill in jerky movements. He wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth my tears, heartache, or sleepless nights. He didn’t deserve any of my emotions… well, except hate. He was right; it was a thin line between love and hate.
The problem was I wasn’t even sure I hated him. I was hurt and I wanted him to hurt, or tell me how sorry he was and how much he loved me. He gave me nothing! It was clear he had none of those soft emotions towards me from our first week together. I wanted the kind of love that my parents had. So when things get tough, it would be our love to get us through those hard times. Not hate.
God, and I was pregnant with his child. What had I done? I remembered us getting the morning after pill. And I forgot it in his car. Did I forget it or subconsciously do it on purpose? After all, I was contemplating getting pregnant so Dad couldn’t force my marriage. Karma is a bitch!
But still, I couldn’t regret it. My hand covered my lower abdomen. There was nothing to feel, and my stomach was still flat. What if all of it was a false alarm? It was driving me crazy that I wasn’t hundred percent positive.
“Scarlett,” Michail’s voice startled me.
I raised my eyes to meet his gaze. I detected pity there and it was like a punch in the gut.
“Michail, please don’t pity me,” I murmured. “Just recall how I kicked you in your sensitive area and wipe out any pity for me.”
He smiled. “It will all work out.” I just nodded, wishing I had his optimism . “He’s ready for you, if you want to call your parents.”