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My nose tingles, and my eyes burn, but I release him with a jerk. “I’m leaving anyway.”
I grab my duffel bag, but Kirill pushes it out of my hold and throws it against the wall. Then he grabs me by the hip. I freeze for a second, still unable to prevent my mind and body from reacting to him.
When I finally snap out of it, he’s already released me, but not before he pulls my gun out of the hoister and slips it into the back of his pants.
He sighs deeply and looks at me as if I’m the villain in this story. “I was hoping you’d see reason so it wouldn’t come to this, but you forced my hand, Sasha.”
“What do you mean…?”
“You’ll stay here until you come to your senses.”
“Are you…locking me up?”
“I prefer not having to use this method, but you’re being unreasonable and refuse to change your mind, so I have to resort to this.”
“You can’t do that, Kirill.” I push against him, but he easily pushes me back, and I stumble and then nearly fall.
The man who looks back at me is more a monster than a man. A heartless person with no care whatsoever about what he’s doing.
“You promised you’d never leave me, and I’ll make sure you keep that promise.” He strokes my chin, then the cut on my lip that burns. “No matter what, Solnyshko.”
And then he leaves, and the door closes behind him, cementing the finality of the situation.
He really is putting me in confinement.
24
SASHA
I’m going crazy.
I’ve been pacing the length of this room for the past two days, back and forth like a caged animal.
At first, I looked for an escape and tried the door, but it’s made from blended material as if it was designed to withstand bombs or something. I can’t even pick the lock, because it’s thumbprint protected.
The windows at the top are a lost cause, too, considering they’re made of tempered glass.
Since that asshole Kirill took away my gun, I’m completely defenseless and without a way out.
I glare at the bracelet around my wrist. The one I’ve been religiously wearing since he gave it to me on my birthday. I threw it down earlier, but soon after, I got to my knees to search for it.
Maybe there’s something wrong with my head, because I don’t seem ready to abandon this part of me yet.
The thought of Kirill’s upcoming marriage always brings tears to my eyes, and while I don’t expect myself to get over it this quickly, I also hate this.
I hate strong emotions.
The helplessness.
The emptiness.
And right now, I hate him.
The least he can do after he stabbed me in the heart is to let me be. But no. Of course the damn monster has other plans.
What? I don’t know.
I feel like he’s teaching me some sort of a lesson right now. Is he mentally torturing me? Maybe he’s testing my limits and how far it’ll take me to snap.
No one’s come around, and there’s no signal on my phone. A fridge that’s stocked with food sits in the corner beside a microwave, but that’s about it.
Under different circumstances, this place would be good for a small retreat. Not only does it look like a hotel suite, but there’s also a Jacuzzi tub and a huge cinema-like TV in the living area.
Needless to say, I haven’t used either.
And I have barely slept.
My mind has been pushed around and strained so many times over the past few days that I’m surprised it hasn’t given up on me yet.
The worst part is that Kirill hasn’t come around for over two days. Fifty-two hours, to be more specific. But who’s counting?
I’m slowly losing it, though. I’ve never gone this much time without action or something to do. And the worst part is that I can’t leave this prison until His Majesty Kirill decides I can.
I’ve been doing push-ups and using the few machines in the corner of the room, but those activities are barely keeping me focused.
After pacing for thirty minutes, I hop in the shower for the third time today and take an ice-cold one. Once I’m finished, I leave my bandages off and put on joggers and a T-shirt.
It feels weird to walk around with my breasts free, but they could use some air. It’s super uncomfortable when they bounce, though.
I stare in the mirror and wince at my bloodshot eyes. So yes, maybe I cried myself to sleep last night and kept replaying the image of Kirill’s stupid engagement.
When will I ever be free of these emotions?
My hair is getting longer again, reaching my nape. I swear it grows so much in so little time just to mock me for not being able to keep it.
I pull at it and then release a frustrated sigh.
Surely Maksim and Yuri are looking for me, right? Unless Kirill told them something that made them believe I don’t need help.
