Page 5 of Irish Vow


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The displeasure in his voice tips me over the edge again into fresh panic, fresh tears. I feel suddenly as if I’m losing them both—Alexandre because I’ve gotten so far away from him now, so much so that I don’t know if I could go back to being his pet, his little doll, even if sometimes I still crave it, and Liam because I no longer know if I can trust him. I start to cry in sharp, gasping, gulping sobs that threaten to actually suffocate me, choking on the tears and unable to breathe, crying loudly into the phone.

“Petit. Petit!Anastasia!” There’s a clear alarm in Alexandre’s voice, the irritation gone. “Petit,please. Don’t cry like this. You don’t need to weep for him. Tell me where you are,petit, please. I’ll come and find you.” There’s a moment’s silence on the line, and then his voice again, rich and thick like smoke, like silk, wrapping around me the way it used to do in the apartment in Paris, lulling me into his grasp. “You shouldn’t have left me,petit, my little Anastasia,” he murmurs. “You belong to me. You know that you do. You should never have left. You thought that he could take you away, that you could escape—but you belong to me. Deep down, you know it’s more than what I paid for you,petit. In your very soul, you belong to me. I awakened things in you that you never knew you could need or crave, did I not?”

I stifle another sob, closing my eyes as I tip my head back, wishing more than anything that I could disappear and that this could all end. Liam, Alexandre, who I love, who I want, who I should be with, who I can trust. I feel sick of it all, sick of trying to decide, trying to understand, and I choke out the only question I can think of to ask him, the only thing that could possibly matter right now.

“Did you love me?” I ask tearfully, the words coming out half-muffled. “Did you, really?”

“Oui, petit,” Alexandre says simply. “Yes. I loved you dearly, passionately, in a way that I’ve loved no other woman since—”

He breaks off, but he doesn’t have to say who. I know who he’s talking about—his stepsister, Margot, the girl he loved and lost horrifically so many years ago, which warped him into the strange and eccentric man he is today. “I love you,petit,” he says again, his voice softer now. “It is up to you if you believe it is true.”

“If you love me—” I squeeze the phone so hard that I feel like my knuckles are turning white, holding it to my cheek like it’s his hand as I try to understand. “How could you do that to me, then? How could you force Liam to have sex with me like that—in—in front of everyone, in front of you? How could you do it? If you really loved me, how could you watch?” I’m crying again now, stumbling over the words. “I was so scared, Alexandre, so scared, and I trusted you. You said you would keep me safe, and Itrustedyou!”

The words come out in a rush, more than I really meant to say, but the silence on the other end tells me that he’s heard me.

“I’m sorry,petit,” he murmurs finally, his own voice thickening with emotion. “I meant to test you, to test your love for me. Yvette—” Alexandre breaks off again, and I hear him draw in a deep, shuddering breath. “I believed that you would take no pleasure in him, that you would realize you loved me only, and it would only solidify our bond, that you would know no other man could make you feel the way I did—”

“That’s crazy,” I whisper before I can stop myself. “Surely, Alexandre, you see how crazy it is—”

“Was it?” His voice sounds brittle as a twig, snapping after each word. “You were a bad girl,petit, if you loved me as you say you do. You failed this crazy test. And you left with another man, as you promised me you would not do.” There’s that deep breath again, and I swallow hard, feeling unsteady even sitting down from the yo-yo of his emotions in addition to my own.

“You can be my good girl again,petit,” Alexandre croons, his voice rich and smooth again. “Just ask me to forgive you, and I will. We can put it all behind us, this ridiculousness, and be like we were before the Irishman ruined our peace. Tell me where you are, and I’ll come for you. I’ll take you home and protect you, as I promised I would.Petit—”

“I can’t go to Paris,” I whisper. “I have friends here. I have—”

“You will make new friends. I’ll give you more freedom than you had before once we’re together again and safe, once I know that I can trust you to stay, to keep your promise to me.”

“I—”

“I would never cheat on you, Anastasia.” There it is—my name. My real name on his lips as he begs me to come back. “I will never love another woman but you, mypetit,my Anastasia, never want anyone except you, my beautiful broken doll.”

It’s almost hypnotizing. His voice, saying words that feel familiar, that feel, in a way, safe. Words that promise things I need, that I once wanted from him. Love, safety, pleasure, protection. I once wanted to be on my own, to face the world alone, but I don’t anymore. It’s too cruel, too capricious, too awful. I want someone by my side as I walk through it, someone to help me shoulder the burden. I don’t want to face all my demons by myself.

With Alexandre, I didn’t even have to face them. I only had to exist, to follow a few simple rules, and he was pleased.

But would it always be that way? And do I want to be with a man who doesn’t let me choose my future?

Do I want to be with the one who’s lied to me?

“Tell me where you are,petit.” Alexandre’s voice is more frustrated now, insistent. “Tell me—”

A rush of panic washes over me, scrambling my thoughts again. I can’t decide, I can’t choose. I don’t know what to do, so I do the only thing I can with a single snap decision—I hang up. His voice cuts off, leaving only silence and the sound of my rapid breathing as my heart hammers in my chest.

The phone drops into my lap, and I sit there, shaking.

I’d only just started to feel safe again, secure, and now this. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what Iwantto do, and out of my options, I don’t know which of those I can trust.

I find myself reaching for the phone again, but this time I call the one person that I know I can depend on. The one person who has always been there for me, as long as I’ve known her.

Sofia answers after two rings. “Ana? Is everything okay?”

“No!” I say, my voice rising, and then I burst into tears again.

“Ana—Ana, whatever it is, just breathe. Tell me what’s going on, just as soon as you can.”

Sofia’s voice is calm and soothing, and it breaks through the wall of my panic. “Ana, are you hurt? Are you safe?”

“I’m safe,” I manage, sniffling through my tears. “And I’m not hurt—not physically, at least.”

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