Page 20 of Dark Possession
Alina
I'M TREMBLING.
Shame burns through me, twisting with something darker—something I refuse to name. I shouldn’t have enjoyed it. I shouldn’t still feel his touch lingering on my skin. And yet…
The moment Lev leaves, I relinquish my grip on the dresser and take three faltering steps to the bed. I collapse in a heap on the very edge, drawing my knees into my chest and pressing my hands between my thighs to stop them from shaking. The silence around me is suffocating.
My panties are wedged uncomfortably to the side, the lace chafing the crack of my rear. I pull them free, flinching at the wetness that greets my fingers.
Then why are you fucking dripping for me?
I wish I knew the answer to that. This complicates things. I’m not supposed to desire this man. What happens when it’s time for me to leave?
I have to remember why I’m here.
Minutes pass…or maybe it’s hours…before I force myself to move. My skin’s gone cold, my limbs feel heavy and sluggish, and I want to do nothing more than to crawl into bed and forget everything, but I rouse myself instead.
The sooner I get things moving, the sooner I can get my life back.
I climb from the bed and cross the room to the closet, shivering in my strapless bra and panties. It’s still relatively early in the evening, and sleep is not an option. I need to take care of Marina’s debt. Everything else can wait.
My fingers curl around the handle, and I pull the closet door open.
In the bottom of the closet, the small suitcase and worn leather purse that I’d requested be brought sit, looking pathetically out of place amid the wealth surrounding them. Among the silk-lined shelves and gleaming gold hangers, my things might as well be relics from another life. A life I’m barely holding onto.
Still, they are mine. A quiet murmur of thanks slips from my lips as I drop to my knees and drag my purse into my lap. I fish through its contents, pulling free a balled-up scrap of paper and my phone. With a deep breath, I unlock the screen and open my banking app.
My stomach knots as the numbers appear on the screen. Fifty thousand. It’s there, in my account—the exact amount I bargained for—the price of my body.
I should feel relieved. Victorious. Instead, nausea rises in my throat. Nothing will ever feel like it’s enough for what I’ve given. For what I’m going to give.
And yet it’s a minute amount compared to the value of my sister’s life.
I click over to the next screen, and my hands tremble as I select “transfer funds” and begin typing in the account numbers scrawled on the crumpled paper—the account belonging to the man my sister owes money to.
I move through all of the steps until my finger hovers over the final button. The little warning blinks up at me.
This cannot be undone.
Uneasiness roils in my stomach. I’m all too aware that I have no leverage. I can send this money, and Koka can do absolutely anything he wants to. He can saythank you, your debt is paid, or he can saywhat money, I see no money,and I’ll be right back where I started from…except I’ll have sold myself for nothing. These are not men renowned for their honesty and fairness.
Once I send this money, I’ll have sixteen dollars to my name. Sixteen dollars, and no idea what comes next.
My breath comes short, sharp, and a migraine presses at the back of my skull. Before I can overthink the problem any further, I stab theenterbutton.
Done.
I move back to my account page, where I verify the funds have moved from my account. I just need to await confirmation from Koka that he received the money and the debt is cleared.
Exiting the app, I sit on the floor of the closet and stare at the phone, willing a message to come through.
Panic gnaws at my insides. Seconds stretch into eternity. But a message never comes.
My pulse spikes. No.Nonono…please don’t do this to me.I refresh the screen. I don’t have a direct line to Koka, or I would call him.
After a few more minutes, I set the phone aside resolutely. There’s nothing more I can do but wait.
Sighing, I look up at the rows of clothing in the closet. Women’s clothes, high quality and new, judging from the tags dangling from sleeves and hems. I remember Lev’s voice, quiet and uncompromising.I’ve had my staff purchase clothing for you.
