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“What are you saying?” My voice has become hoarse and strained, my breathing dragging in and out through my nose as panic builds in my chest. “Are you backing out?”
He shakes his head, finally looking up at me, but there’s uncertainty in hiseyes. “All I’m saying is that you can’t be mine. You’ll always belong to Markus, and I’m more than grateful that he shares you with me, but you can’t be mine. Not like that.”
There’s pain in his eyes, and I think this distance that will always exist between us hurts him as much as it does me. But what’s worse is that it’s also starting to come between Markus and me, and if we keep going like this, it’ll destroy everything.
The realization settles in my mind after having hovered on the fringes for so long, and the effect is like sand piling up around me, constricting my breathing with terrifying speed.
“Clara, come here. You need to rest. We’ll work everything out when Markus comes back.”
I shake my head, unable to see how any of this will work out. It hurts so fucking much. Yet I badly want to suck up the pain and stay in this teetering situation until it all crumbles around me. But I can’t risk losing both men. I just can’t. And I know I will if we continue down this road.
“I can’t do this anymore,” I say, taking a step back.
Grigory gets up, his gaze suddenly blazing with a strange combination of anger and hurt.
“I can’t.” Shaking my head, I retreat another step, away from the man I yearn for with my entire being.
Something shifts in him. Darkness descends over his features, and his gaze becomes deadly. “Clara, sit down. Now!”
I jump, cowering at the sound of his booming voice. For the first time, I’m truly scared of him.
Suddenly, I can’t recognize the man before me. I can’t recognize anything. I have no idea what I’m doing here, with two men, with my life. Everything has spun out of control—out of my hands.
Grigory takes a step closer, his eyes burning with dangerous warning.
Thinking he’s going to grab me, I spin on my heel and bolt toward the bedroom. It’s not a conscious decision. Nothing is. Not even when I pull out my suitcase and throw in the most immediate of my things.
My heart is pounding as I expect Grigory to charge after me and force me into compliance. I imagine his hand curling around my neck as he presses me onto the bed and yanks my pants down to spank every last ounce of resistance out of me like he did the day after Markus left. It would make everything so much easier, being forced into submission, having his control wipe my thoughts away. Letting it all out through tears, safe under his command.
Steps approach, but it’s not the furious ones I expected. Looking up, I find Grigory standing in the doorway, watching me with an almost horrified gaze that has me halting in my motions.
“What are you doing?” His words hold a startling vulnerability, and his hand flexes on the doorframe like he doesn’t know how to proceed.
It cuts deep into me, seeing this powerful man like this, knowing I caused it. But I can’t let myself sway. I can’t stay. I need to take care of myself or I’ll get crushed under the weight when everything falls.
So I force my eyes away, drag the long zipper closed, and lift the suitcase off the bed. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry,” I say, my voice hoarse from unshed tears.
With trembling legs and downcast eyes, I walk toward the door, praying he won’t stop me—or maybe that he will.
Just as I’m about to pass him, he grabs my arm. The familiar size of his hand and the warmth against my skin almost breaks me.Please make me stay,I beg inwardly. But when I tug at my arm, his grip loosens easily, fingers dragging across my skin in one final touch that nearly makes me double over.
But I continue on to the hall, where I quickly slip on my shoes, grab my jacket and shoulder bag, and open the door. I hesitate a final time, still expecting him to come charging after me.
But he doesn’t.
I step out of the apartment, shut the door, and press the button for the elevator. The frantic beating of my heart is like a war drum in the harrowing silence. I listen for the door being ripped open, almost able to feel the strength of Grigory’s hard grip around my arm as he hauls me back inside.
But he never comes, and I leave the building with a gaping hole in the middle of my chest.
— CHAPTER 34 —
MARKUS
“Are you joining us for a glass of wine tonight?” Lucia asks as we leave the stage for the last time. The din of clapping is finally dying down after three rounds of applause. Usually, I get high on the audience calling us back to the stage repeatedly, but tonight, I just want it to end.
“Not tonight, I’m afraid.”
I usually have a lot of energy coursing through me after a performance and need some kind of outlet. If Clara is with me, a good fuck will do; if not, some time spent with my fellow musicians, drinking a beer, takes the brunt of it.
