Page 24 of Sergei
His words hurt because I knew he wasn’t wrong. I had no money and no options, but that didn’t stop my pride from churning in my stomach. “You can’t force me to stay here.”
He clenched his jaw, and for a long second, I thought he might lose it. But when he spoke again, his voice was calm and almost sympathetic. “I agreed to help you. I need you to trust that I will.”
I didn’t know if I should shout or cry, because that look in his eyes made it clear he meant every word. And deep down, a part of me truly did want to trust him. But that didn’t stop me from saying, “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you or your family.”
“Let me worry about that.”
I wasn’t sure what to do.
I just wanted to crawl into a dark hole and hide.
Sadly, that wasn’t an option.
“Thank you.” The tight line of his mouth eased, just a fraction, but it quickly returned when I added, “Can you tell me what you plan to do about Alek and the family?”
“That’s not something you need to worry about.”
“But it is,” I pushed. “I’m the reason you have to deal with them, so I should know what’s going on.”
“To be perfectly frank, I don’t know. I’m still sorting out the details, but I have people. And they have people. Together, we will figure this thing out.” His eyes remained trained on me as he crouched down in front of me. “But in order to do that, I’m going to need something from you.”
“Okay. What is it?”
“I need you to promise me you aren’t going to try and leave again.”
There was something about the tone of his voice that tugged at me, and without thinking, I nodded and said, “I promise.”
“Good. Now, let’s talk about the night you left. I need you to tell me exactly what happened from start to finish. I need to know every step you took. Every person you spoke to. Every place you went, you can’t leave anything out. I need to know it all.”
I nodded, then, piece by piece, I gave it to him. The fight with Alek. Everything he said. Everything he did. I told him about the phone calls and how I’d used them as my chance to get away. I told him about my suitcase. The car and how I’d left it in the city. The cab and the bus station. I told him how I was careful to shield my face as I made my way through the streets.
Any time I hesitated, he would prompt me with a question or a demand.
I kept going, and when I got to the part about going to see Mila, he grimaced. It was clear he didn’t approve, but I didn’t know if it was because he didn’t care for her or if he just thought it was a bad idea. Either way, I went on to tell him how she’d given me some money and hair dye before sending me on my way. I continued on, and by the time I was finished, I felt like I’d been through battle.
And in many ways, I had.
Sergei stood and started for the door. When he stepped out in the hall, I asked, “So that's it?”
“For now.”
“But where are you going?”
“To my office. I have calls to make.”
His tone left no room for argument, so I didn’t say anything more. I just sat there and watched him disappear down the hall. I didn’t bother getting up. I was too spent to even try. I’d just confessed my story to Sergei, the oldest Volkov brother and perhaps the hottest man I’d ever laid eyes on.
He knew every dirty detail. Every step I’d made. Every mistake and every fear, and it felt like he’d taken the last piece of control I had left. And I’d just let him.
And with that thought, the feeling of helplessness seeped in even more.
I rested my head on the pillow, and it wasn’t long before my thoughts drifted to Sergei. It meant so much to me that he was trying to help me. I could almost picture him in his office, sitting at his enormous desk, barking out orders and endless demands.
Normally, a man like him would intimidate me and even scare me, but I felt nothing of the sort. Instead, something inside me seemed to unwind when he was around.
It was strange.
It was as if all the chaos and turmoil I carried with me seemed to fade away when he was close, and that had never happened with anyone. He just stepped in, took charge, and did it in a way that gave me room to breathe. Room to exist, and I hadn’t realized how badly I’d needed that until now.
