Page 74 of The Bittersweet Bond

Evin raised an eyebrow. “You make it sound like I signed up for some high-stakes poker game.”

Sergej’s lips curved slightly, but his eyes remained unreadable. “You kind of did.” He stepped closer, the space between them dissolving. “I don’t play games, Evin. If you’re here, you need to be sure of what you want. No back and forth.”

Evin let out a breath, forcing herself to hold her ground. He was testing her, pushing her to make a move first. Typical.

“And what about you?” she countered, tilting her head. “You seem pretty invested for someone who doesn’t play games.”

A quiet chuckle escaped him—low, rough, like he was almost amused. “I knew what I wanted the second I saw you again.”

That was the problem, wasn’t it? Sergej was sure of himself. Unapologetic. Direct. And her? She wasn’t used to this. She was used to push and pull, to layers of hesitation. But Sergej didn’t hesitate.

She swallowed. “And what if I’m not as easy to read as you think?”

Sergej leaned in, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Oh, I read you just fine.”

His certainty made something tighten in her stomach. Her hands twitched at her sides before she lifted them, pressing her palms lightly against his chest. She could feel the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her touch. He was calm. Collected. Like he had all the time in the world to let her figure this out.

Evin exhaled sharply, forcing herself to sound unaffected. “You’re really milking the whole mysterious older guy thing, huh?”

His fingers brushed the side of her neck, slow and deliberate. “I don’t need to try.”

Her breath caught. Damn him.

She should say something sharp, something to tilt the balance back in her favor—but his grip tightened slightly, grounding her in the moment, and suddenly, words felt unnecessary.

“And I’m not like the boys your age.”

She let out a quiet laugh, but it didn’t quite mask the fact that her pulse had spiked. “No shit. Most guys my age don’t act like they stepped out of a damn noir film.”

Sergej smirked. “And yet, you’re here.”

Her fingers curled slightly into his shirt. “Maybe I just like a good plot twist.”

A slow, knowing look crossed his face. “Good,” he murmured. “Then let’s see how well you handle this one.”

He pulled her closer, and when their lips met, it was like a switch had been flipped. The kiss wasn’t hesitant—it was deliberate, deep, unrelenting. Sergej kissed like someone who had nothing to prove, someone who already knew she would follow.

And fuck, she did.

She felt the heat spread through her as his hands moved over her back, pulling her flush against him. It was overwhelming—his touch, his presence, the sheer intensity of it all. But maybe that was exactly what she needed.

Maybe, for once, she didn’t want to think.

His lips traced a slow path down her neck, and he murmured, “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into...”

Her breath hitched, her body pressing instinctively closer to his. He was probably right.

But that didn’t mean she’d stop.

Sergej pulled back slightly, his gaze dark, unreadable. The candlelight flickered between them, but nothing in his expression wavered. “I told you, I don’t play.” His voice was quiet, firm. “When you’re here, you’re mine.”

Evin’s lips parted, but no words came out.

Because for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t entirely sure if she wanted to fight that.

_________

Dear Diary,

---