My fingers closed around the edge of the sheet. “Petya.”
“I asked if he touched you.”
“That is not your question to ask me like that.”
He went silent again.
Good. Let him hear it. Let him feel the line before he crossed it and made my body one more place men argued over ownership.
When I spoke again, my voice had steadied. “I entered the auction myself. I made that choice. I did it because I thought it was the only way to get enough money before Gennady came for you.”
“I did this,” Petya said.
“You started the debt. You lied to me about the deadline. You gave Gennady a way to put his hands into my life. Yes. You did those things.”
He sucked in a breath.
I didn’t soften it yet. If I softened it too soon, he would hide inside my forgiveness and call that punishment.
“But I made the choice to go,” I said. “That part is mine.”
“No. Don’t do that. Don’t make it clean.”
“It isn’t clean. None of this is clean.”
“He said you stood on a stage.” His voice broke lower. “He said men bid.”
My stomach twisted.
Vadim’s expression changed. The room seemed to darken around him.
“He said that to hurt you,” I said.
“It worked.”
“I know.”
“He said he won.”
“He did.”
Petya’s breath stopped.
I forced myself to say the rest before he filled the silence with worse. “Gennady manipulated the auction. Vadim came for me, but he got there after the sale was called. He took me before Gennady could.”
“And I’m supposed to thank him?”
“No. You’re supposed to stay alive and stop letting shame drive.”
“I can fix this.”
“You can’t pay Gennady.”
“I can find money.”
“You can’t.”
“I can go to him.”
