Page 96 of The Bittersweet Bond

Instinctively, Evin turned her head away. She stared blankly at his skin, feeling as though she couldn’t see anything anymore.

Her thoughts grew hazy, and she felt as if she were absent, far removed from what her body was going through.

His movements. The shift of fabric. His pants loosening.

“Are you serious?” she asked, her tone flat. “I told you: I don’t want this!”

She pushed her shoulder against his face—the only part of her she could move—and waited for a reaction.

“I’m not doing anything,” he said. His dry lips scraped against her neck. The anger made her skin burn.

That was it. She’d had enough. With her pinned arms, Evin fumbled at her thong.

“Here! Are you happy now?” she yelled angrily, glaring at him as he lifted his head slightly to see what she was doing. The bright scrap of fabric flew across the room and landed near the coffee table.

For a split second, some small, naive part of her still believed he’d stop—because Bas always did. Because no one had ever crossed a line she clearly drew. But Sergej wasn’t Bas. And this wasn’t solid ground.

Instead of reacting, Sergej remained unfazed. Evin’s defiant gesture should have made him stop. Should have made him feel shame.

How could he not have gotten up by now?

But he just stayed. Unmoved. Unbothered.

As he pushed her thighs apart, the anger vanished, swallowed by numbness.

Her thoughts seemed to detach, as if she had catapulted herself out of the situation. She lay there numb, trapped in her motionless body, horrified by his actions.

Please, god, make it stop.

Her skin burned under his touch as her mind drifted further and further away.

As she endured his movements and the pain, Evin stared at the bare ceiling. The glaring light of the floor lamp became her only focus. She held herself together as best she could, though she couldn’t stop a few tears from falling. Tears that felt like betrayal. She would have liked to wipe them away with the back of her hand. Stop being so pathetic!

“Las Vegas bows to a great champion,” declared the TV. The match was over, and the nameless boxer had emerged victorious.

There she lay.Now you’ve got what you wanted.Something inside her clicked. A switch flipped. Emotion: gone. She immediately stood up.

“Grab a towel,” Sergej said, his gaze trailing over her body like she was nothing.

Still numb, it took her a moment to understand what he meant—until she felt the warm, sticky sensation on her leg. Without asking, she moved into action, silent and horrified. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her vulnerability.Fuck you.

Evin stood there, naked, in his bare, soulless living room, feeling as hollow as the space around her. After cleaning herself up, Evin lit a cigarette with trembling fingers. She didn’t even smoke. The acrid taste of tobacco clung to her tongue, harsh and dry, scraping against her throat as she inhaled too sharply. It burned, but she welcomed the sting. At least it was something she could control. She looked around for her panties, refusing to let her physical pain show. When she spotted them, she snatched them up quickly and put them on.

“What are you doing?” Sergej mumbled, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

“I’m leaving. Going home.”

A brief silence followed. Sergej exhaled a cloud of smoke.

“I thought we’d go for round two,” he said, looking bewildered.

Her head snapped toward him. Disgust curled inside her, heavy as stone, expanding into an all-consuming void. She couldn’t even meet his eyes.

“What are you talking about? That…” she gestured with her gaze at herself, him, and the couch, “will never happen again.”

Now fully dressed, she grabbed her bag and hurried toward the hallway.Just need my shoes.Just the shoes.

„The first time’s always rough. You’ll get used to it,“ he muttered, exhaling smoke like it was nothing.

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