Page 39 of The Russian Pakhan's Forced Bride
“Yet, you still try to run…”
There’s a dangerously sharp edge to my voice, but I don’t make any attempts to soften it. Not when I’m barely hanging on as it is.
It surprises even me, but after that kiss, combined with the pure agony of holding myself back despite wanting her more than anything, I can’t help but see it as a betrayal. As something meant to hurt me.
“You don’t need to like this arrangement. You don’t even need to like me,” I murmur, finding it hard to stop with the opportunity right in front of me while I have her rapt attention.“But don’t pretend like there’s nothinghere. Like you have every reason to run.”
As much as I want her to say something, her silence feels even more impactful. It’s telling me that she knows exactly how deep in shit she is right now.
Leaning in closer, I continue lowly, “because I haven’t stopped thinking about it…the club. The back seat. It’s driving me crazy.”
Another patch of quiet lingers between us, and all that can be heard is our breathing.
Despite being stunned, Victoria seems to pull herself together enough to scowl at me. “What now? Are you going to make me disappear?”
That implication feels like a knife through the heart, but I leave it.
“No,” I utter, keeping my expression impassive despite my lingering rage. “I’m going to hold myself together again. Andyouare going inside…”
Victoria doesn’t move while she blinks back at me, digesting everything I just said.
My jaw clenches.
“Move. Now.”
Despite her hesitation, she goes, and I follow close behind, barely holding myself back despite it all.
Chapter 14 - Victoria
Losing myself while kissing Roman was a serious lapse in judgment…and certainly something I can’t come back from. It was a moment of weakness, and as hard as I try to put it behind me, it still shakes me up all the same.
I wasn’t being careful, and I let the whiskey get to my head. While it’s a setback, I’ve committed myself to not giving in again.
Moving forward, I need to resist, regardless of how incredible it felt in the moment.
In my drunken state, having Roman all over me was heavenly. Trying to give in to that lust was more thrilling than I ever wanted to admit. But I can’t focus on that anymore. Now, I need to keep pushing. I need to test his patience until he can’t handle having me around anymore.
Maybe then he’ll finally let me go.
Initially, I thought making his life hell would be an easy accomplishment. After dealing with my attitude, I assumed he would lose his wit, but he has better resolve than I gave him credit for.
That need to frustrate him was the exact reason why I tried to run in the first place.
It was a cheap shot, and I knew the likelihood of it working was next to none, but by the slight chance it did, it would’ve been worth it.
However, now that my wrists are bound by scratchy rope and he’s hauling me back home, I can’t help but wonder if I ever should’ve crossed that line. It may have worsened his tolerance for my antics, but he doesn’t seem any closer to letting me go.Instead, Roman looks even more intent on forcing me back into line.
I want to take pride in pissing him off, but the iron grip he has on me only makes me feel miserable.
The car ride home was deafeningly silent, and he certainly did everything in his power to make me sit in that uncomfortable space with him. He made me feel the full extent of his quiet rage.
And to think…I actually did have a good time out with his sister, sans alcohol.
Once he pulls up to the house and wordlessly gets out, Roman opens my door next and reaches for my wrists.
“Get up.”
The words come out terse and brimming with veiled threats, leaving no room for me to object.
