Page 165 of The Bittersweet Bond

"Side room," she gasped, dragging him through the crowd. Guests stepped aside, throwing them confused glances. "She’s awake, but—"

"What did Sergej do?" His voice was low, vibrating with barely restrained fury, and his steps quickened.

"Bas, wait!"

Milka yanked him to a stop and pulled him into a quiet corner where the noise of the event dulled slightly. Her hand pressed firmly against his chest, her breath coming fast as she struggled to find the right words.

"Before you do anything… you need to know."

"Tell me." His voice was razor-sharp, his eyes burning with unspoken rage.

"He was… he assaulted her… months ago," Milka whispered, her voice barely audible.

The sentence made him freeze.

The dazzling ballroom, the elegant decor, the glittering chandeliers—all of it vanished from his mind.

"He took everything from her."

The words echoed in his head, growing louder and louder.

"When? What do you mean?" His voice broke slightly, his eyes drilling into hers.

"Back then. Before the Christmas holidays. It wasn’t consensual." The words came out quickly, as if Milka was trying to get them all out before she lost her courage. "He forced her, Bas. And she never told you because she was afraid."

His breathing became uneven, his jaw clenched, and his temples throbbed as he tried to process the meaning of her words. Nausea rose in his chest.

"Afraid of what?"

"That you’d misunderstand. That you’d think she wanted it. That you would—"

"That’s bullshit." His voice exploded, raw and unrestrained fury breaking free. Milka flinched, but it wasn’t her he was angry at. His gaze was elsewhere, his thoughts a raging storm.

"Bas, listen to me—"

"No."He pushed her hand aside, his stare cold, cutting, his steps determined.

"I wasn’t even allowed to tell you, but I can’t just stand by and watch her destroy herself anymore."

The only thing Bas cared about now was: "Where is he?"

"Bas!" Milka grabbed his arm again, tighter this time, more desperate. "This isn’t what she needs!"

"She needs this to stop," he growled, not even looking at her. His eyes were already scanning the crowd, his breathing heavy.

"Bas, damn it!" Milka kept pace with him, her voice a sharp whisper under the festive music. "This won’t make things better. Not for her!"

But he wasn’t listening anymore.It will.

The warmth of the lights, the elegant surroundings, the voices of the guests—all of it meant nothing.

His focus was on one thing: Sergej.

His body moved on autopilot, his rage burned hotter than anything else.

Sergej was going to pay and it was going to happen tonight.

His footsteps hit the wooden floor hard, the room around him turning into a surreal blur of sounds and lights. The soft music, the clinking of glasses, the muffled laughter—it all sounded like a cruel mockery.

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