“I’m not marrying him.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Kill myself, maybe. Seems faster than living with that freak.”
Ruslan looked slightly more cheerful. “Maybe I’ll ask for your hand instead. Think your father would approve?”
“Are you out of your mind?” I gave him a look. “I’m not marrying you either.”
“Oh, come on,” he smirked. “I’d be a delight.”
“I really, really doubt that,” I said. Ruslan chuckled. Even Valeria cracked a grin.
We were still sitting there, laughing and sipping coffee, when the sleek black car pulled up at the edge of the campus.
Fuck. My stomach dropped. What the hell was Felix doing here? I’d managed to dodge him for weeks—sneaking into my room early, locking the door while he talked business with my father. I guess today he decided to come get me. And I was already bracing for whatever twisted thing he had planned.
He stepped out like he owned the place, flanked by a driver and a bodyguard in full mafia fashion, eyes scanning for me like a predator in search of its prey.
He didn’t waste time. Marched straight toward us.
“School’s over. You’re coming with me,” he said, voice flat.
I blinked. “What? I still have one more class.”
“I don’t care. Get up.”
I glanced at Valeria and Ruslan, both of whom looked caught between awkwardness and alarm. Valeria even opened hermouth like she might protest, but I stood before she could say a word. I wasn’t going to make a scene in front of them or worse—put them in danger.
I walked beside him, jaw tight. “You can’t just come to my school and drag me out like that. I’m not your property.”
“Yet,” he said, smug. Then, “Get in the car.”
I did, mostly to avoid creating a spectacle.
The moment the door shut, he turned to me, eyes gleaming. “For over two weeks, you’ve been playing this little game. Lock the door. Stay quiet. But you’re not as silent as you think, sweetheart.”
I stared at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He leaned right in, eyes dark. “I heard you, you naughty fucking girl. Fingering yourself quiet, but not quiet enough—those little gasps gave you away.”
My skin prickled. “Even if I were, it’s none of your business.”
“I’m your future husband,” he said, smiling like it meant something sacred. “Of course it’s my business. Any sound you make should be for me.”
I swallowed hard, gripping my bag.
“I missed you,” he said, voice calm and even. “Figured I’d come grab you myself.” He rested his arm along the backseat, gaze fixed on me, unblinking. “We’ve got things to do. Together.”
“What kind of things?”
“Patience,” he said lightly, the smirk on his face suggesting he had the upper hand.
We arrived at the house not long after. He walked me to my bedroom, opened the door, and gestured to the bed. A box sat neatly in the center, wrapped in white ribbon.
I stared at it, dread blooming in my chest.
“Come on,” he said smoothly. “Open it.”
