Page 147 of The Bittersweet Bond

The mere fact that he was here, that he had the audacity to come anywhere near her, made Bas’ vision blur with rage.

Bas didn’t know how this would end—but one thing was certain:

Sergej had already used up all his chances.

Chapter 42

We Never Saw This Coming

Evin

Evin pushed aside the tent flap and stepped out into the cool, still evening air. The noise of the event behind her was muffled, as if someone had briefly pressed pause on the world. She took a deep breath, feeling the fresh air fill her lungs, trying to shake off the tension that had weighed on her since the morning.

“Evin.”

The voice was deep, familiar—and it made her blood run cold. She turned around slowly.

There he was. Half-hidden in the shadow of a nearby building, hands buried in the pockets of his dark jacket. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were fixed on her with an intensity that pulled her straight back to the past—to everything she had tried to suppress.

For a moment, she was paralyzed. Her breath caught, and the words she wanted to say got stuck in her throat. But she forced herself to stay calm. Not now, not here. She wouldn’t give him that power over her.

“You don’t belong here,” she finally said, her voice hesitant, but with a hint of firmness that surprised even herself.

Sergej shrugged as if he had barely registered her words. “Is that so?” His voice was calm, almost friendly, but the undertones made her stomach clench. “I thought I’d check out this event. Looks well-organized.”

“Just leave.” Her hands clenched into fists inside the pockets of her jacket. She wanted to appear strong, even though she felt anything but.

He stepped slowly out of the shadows, just close enough for the glow of a streetlamp to illuminate his face. “I didn’t know you’d be here,” he said quietly, but his eyes betrayed something else. “Quite a surprise, seeing you so... involved.”

Evin gritted her teeth. His words were harmless, but the slight hesitation, the subtle emphasis, was enough to make her throat tighten. She felt the familiar constriction, but then—something flickered inside her. A spark of anger. She straightened slightly, her gaze sharpening.

“Stop wasting my time! What do you want, Sergej?” Her voice was louder now, more direct.

He paused, studying her as if searching for an answer written on her face. “I don’t want anything, Evin.” His lips curled into a small smile. “Maybe just to see how you’re doing.”

“How I’m doing?” She let out a dry laugh, sharper than she had intended. “That’s none of your business.”

Sergej tilted his head slightly, as if he was truly thinking about it. “Why so distant? You seem... different.” His gaze wandered over her face, her posture.

A moment of silence followed as Sergej continued to observe her. His face remained neutral, but she noticed the subtle twitch in his jaw muscle. He raised his hands, as if to signal he wasn’t looking for a fight. “Relax, I’m not here to cause trouble. But now that I’ve seen you here—I just want to talk.”

“Never.” She took a step back, her eyes narrowing. “Stay away from me. And from here.”

“Evin?”

Bas’ voice rang out behind her, firm and clear, making both of them flinch. Sergej turned his head slightly, his expression remained unbothered, but his shoulders tensed just enough for Evin to notice. A fraction of her own tension eased as she saw Bas approaching in long, quick strides.

Sergej took a step back. “I don’t mean to intrude,” he said quietly, his gaze flicking briefly to Bas before returning to Evin. “We’ll see each other, Evin.”

With those words, he turned and walked away, his steps barely making a sound on the pavement.

Evin didn’t watch him go. Instead, she turned to Bas, who had stopped beside her, his face a mix of concern and restrained anger.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice steady, but the tension unmistakable.

“Yes.” She nodded quickly, forcing a small smile. “I... I just need to go to the restroom.”

Before he could protest, she turned and walked off, the quiet clicking of her shoes the only sound left in the silence.