I didn’t want to. I didn’t care what was inside. As long as it came from him, it already felt poisoned. But I still walked toward it, still untied the ribbon with trembling fingers.
Inside was a deep emerald dress.
“Put it on,” he said, nodding toward the dress.“We’re going out. I want to show you off a little.”
My stomach dropped. “I’m not some trophy you get to parade around.”
He crossed the room in two long steps and grabbed my face, fingers digging into my jaw hard enough to hurt. His eyes were bright, unhinged.
“Spoiled little bitch,” he growled, his grip tightening. “You think you get a choice? Now getchanged, or I’ll dress you myself.”
I swallowed down the rising panic, keeping my voice as steady as I could. “Okay. I’ll get ready. Just… leave the room.”
He laughed—short and ugly. “In front of me is fine. There’s nothing there I won’t own soon.”
I looked at him and knew better than to argue. He was already angry, already past listening.
My hands shook as I started to undress.First the skirt. Then the blouse. My clothes folded over the edge of the bed, piece by piece, while my heart thudded painfully in my chest. I sat down, tugging gently at the top of my stocking, trying to stay calm.
“Let me take care of that,” he said suddenly.
Before I could move, he was already kneeling, his fingers grazing my legs.
My whole body tensed. His knuckles brushed the inside of my thigh and I wanted to scream. My throat clenched shut around the sound.
I sat frozen while he peeled the stockings down, slow and uninvited. His eyes crawled over me like I was something he’dalready claimed. The hunger in them made me want to fold in on myself and disappear.
I wanted Maksym. I needed him. But I couldn’t text. Not with Felix this close. Not with his hands still on my skin.
Please don’t come closer. Please don’t touch me. Please just watch and leave it at that.
I pulled the dress from the box, still in my underwear. It was beautiful, expensive, and exactly what I feared—open in the back. My fingers stalled at my bra strap. I turned my back to him, jaw tight, pretending I didn’t notice how hard he was watching me.
My hands trembled as I unhooked the bra, slipping it off and letting it fall to the floor without looking at him. I stepped into the emerald silk quickly, trying to move with purpose, to keep control. The fabric clung to my skin, cold and smooth. My hands fumbled slightly as I adjusted the front, every motion slow and uncertain. I could see him in the mirror, leaning back, lips parted like he was enjoying a private show.
He stepped closer and reached behind me to fasten the dress, his fingers brushing my back, lingering where they shouldn’t. My throat tightened and I fought the urge to gag.
“Beautiful,” he exhaled, the word lingering for a moment before he added, quieter, “Almost mine.”
Then his hand fisted into my hair without warning, tugging hard enough to make me gasp as he pulled my head back. For a second, he held me there—controlled, exposed—before easing his grip just enough to gather my hair and lift it away from my neck. “Put it up,” he murmured, voice low and commanding. “You have such a beautiful neck. I want everyone to see it.”
We drove in silence.
The car slid through the city like it owned the streets, windows dark, engine purring. I stared out at the blur of lights and told myself to endure it. Just get through the evening. Smile if I had to. Don’t provoke him. Go home. Lock the door. Wait for Maksym. That was the plan. That was all I had.
The hotel towered above the street in polished glass and white marble, all understated luxury and old-money discretion, the kind of place where power checked in quietly and never signed its real name. Felix’s driver stepped out—a tall, broad man with a cold, unreadable face. Not just a driver. A guard. He handed the keys to the valet without a word, eyes scanning the sidewalk, the lobby, me. Then Felix was beside me, reaching for my arm. He didn’t ask. He guided it into the crook of his elbow like I was a doll, fingers tightening just enough to let me know I couldn’t pull away.
“Stay close,” he murmured, pleasant enough for anyone watching.
Inside, the bar was already full. Not loud but crowded with young, polished people who knew exactly how much they were worth. Men in tailored suits, nearly all of them accompanied by a woman on their arm. Watches that gleamed under the dim lights, shoes untouched by city grime. The kind of people who never waited in line for anything. The kind I’d grown up around.
I didn’t recognize a single face. Not that it mattered. I could smell criminals from a mile away, thanks to my dear father. This was definitely one of Felix’s filthy little gatherings—men with too much money and no conscience, doing god knows what to get richer. A few bodyguards lingered at the edges, pretending to be furniture. Drinks were poured without asking.
Something about this place crawled under my skin. I couldn’t quite name it, but a chill slid through me every time my eyes met one of the girls’. There was something wrong here. They were beautiful—almost unnaturally so. Not flashy, not desperate for attention. Just polished. Long hair styled perfectly, makeup flawless, dresses expensive but deliberately restrained—nothing bold enough to outshine the men at their sides. Each of them looked placed there with intention, like the final detail added to complete a display.
Their smiles never reached their eyes. A few stared past conversations as if they were somewhere else entirely. One girl laughed half a second too late at something her companion said. Another flinched—so small it was almost invisible—when the man at her side tightened his hand around her waist.
I watched that one for a moment too long.
