So, I tell him the lie that I wish is still true. “Because we’re enemies, right?”
His jaw tightens. “Enemies.”
I don’t respond as I hold his gaze and force myself to meet his frozen gray eyes. He’s trying to arrange his face into an emotionless mask, but I can see the hurt etched across its perfect lines.
"You betrayed me,malyshka.”
That word slides between my ribs like a knife.
“I did.”
“And do you remember what I told you when you asked what I would do if you betrayed me?"
"I do," I whisper, and the ghost of his lips press hot and insistent on my mouth.
If you ever betray me, malyshka, you'll wish you were still my enemy.
"Good." He reaches out slowly and grips my chin. "Because I'm about to make good on that promise."
Ice floods my veins from his words, but fire pours into my heart from his touch. My lower lip trembles, but there’s nowhere left to go.
"I'm going to destroy you for this," he says quietly. "I’m going to hurt you for this. For every lie you've told. I'm going to take it apart piece by piece until there's nothing left.”
Tell him!My brain screams.Tell him the truth before you do something stupid!But I don't.
Because this is the only way, and this is exactly what I deserve.
The certainty settles over me like a shroud. I deserve this. Whateverdestroymeans, I've earned it. Not through bad luck or unfortunate circumstances, but through choice after choice after choice, each one leading me deeper into a lie I couldn't sustain.
“You should,” I tell him, and the car starts to move.
It turns down the street onto the familiar path to his penthouse. His knuckles are bone-white as they grip the steering wheel. He stares straight ahead, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.
Almost as if he can’t quite believe what we’re about to do.
When we arrive, he steps out without looking at me. Then, he’s opening my door, and his large hand closes like a vise around my arm. Fire and ice war for control in my heart as he yanks me out of the car.
He force-marches me to the elevator, and then spins me around to face him, as if waiting for me to plead my case to him one final time. Warmth swims back into his gray eyes for a moment, and it almost—almost—breaks my resolve.
I’m shivering now. My hands open and close by my side as my chest rises and falls as I look up at him. Even in my heels, he towers over me. Slowly, his hands rise up until they close around my neck, making me feel simultaneously threatened and protected all at once.
I imagine him squeezing with cold fury in his eyes until my world blacks out. And the fucked-up part is that the thought leaves me feeling wetter than I’ve ever felt.
The elevator opens, and he gives me a slight push. I step back inside with his hand around my throat.
The doors close and we begin to rise like a bubble rising through dark water.
I was going to tell you,I think at his reflection.I was going to be honest.
But I wasn’t fast enough, and now it doesn’t matter.
He steps into my space until my body is pressed completely against him. A violent shudder courses through my body, and a slow fire starts to burn even as my heart freezes. My hand is still closed around the glue thumbprint, but I don’t dare close my fist any harder lest I accidentally destroy the evidence of my guilt.
“Tell me why you did it,” he insists again as the elevator begins to slow. “Or I’ll think that youwantme to hurt you.”
I don’t close my eyes, even as a tear begins to bead at the corner of my eye. Yes… hurt me. Hate me. Destroy me.
Because once you do, you’ll save yourself and your son. And that’ll all be worth it.
