Page 115
Story: Sinister Promise
A look I had never seen on Pavel's face before crossed his stern features.
If I didn't know better, I would have said it was something close to anxiousness.
That couldn't have been it. Maybe I was misreading, and it was annoyance.
He closed the door behind him, and the second we were alone, I couldn't take it anymore.
I collapsed on my hands and my knees and started clawing at the bodice of the dress, gasping for air.
I couldn't breathe.
The room was spinning and no matter what I did, I felt like the air was being choked out of me.
Pavel didn't hesitate.
His arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me. He then sat me on the nearest table before he pulled out a knife from his back pocket and, in one swift motion, sliced through the dress.
He first cut the delicate lace around my throat, slicing the pearls too, and letting the precious beads fly across the floor. Then he sliced the side of the bodice so it was no longer squeezing my ribs.
The pressure eased and air rushed back into my lungs, and the panic shifted.
I could breathe, but tears started pouring down my face, ruining my once perfect makeup.
"I'm so sorry, I can't do this," I sobbed. " I can't do this. Please don't make me. I just can't."
I could hear the hysteria in my voice, but I couldn't make it stop.
The room was still spinning, and it felt like I was spiraling into a mess of chaotic fear and desperation.
"Moy kotyonochek," he murmured. "Please, talk to me."
His voice was soft and pleading, and it just made the tears come faster. "Please, I can't do this. There are too many people. They will know it's a lie. Please."
I expected him to insist in his usual gruff way.
He could have told me to get a grip, to control myself, or my grandmother would pay dearly for my disrespect.
He could have blamed me for the pearls now scattered all over the floor.
There were a thousand things I would have expected.
Pavel's lips pressed onto mine wasn’t one of them.
The shock of it stalled my panic just for a moment. My heartbeat slowed, only a fraction, and the icy chill turned into something warm.
His kiss was soft at first and soothed something deep inside me.
But when he pulled away, the familiar panic began creeping back, my breathing turning shallow again.
"Please." My body trembled as my fingers wrapped around the sharp edge of the counter so hard they ached.
He pried my fingers from the counter's edge and put them against his chest as he pressed his forehead to mine.
"You need strength,moy kotyonochek? Take mine." He kissed me again, this time deeper.
As he pressed his tongue into my mouth, he held my hands to his chest, forcing me to feel his strength, his power, and letting me borrow from it.
Something shifted inside me as I felt his steady heartbeat beneath my palms, his unwavering presence anchoring me. The adrenaline still raced through my veins, but with a new purpose.
If I didn't know better, I would have said it was something close to anxiousness.
That couldn't have been it. Maybe I was misreading, and it was annoyance.
He closed the door behind him, and the second we were alone, I couldn't take it anymore.
I collapsed on my hands and my knees and started clawing at the bodice of the dress, gasping for air.
I couldn't breathe.
The room was spinning and no matter what I did, I felt like the air was being choked out of me.
Pavel didn't hesitate.
His arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me. He then sat me on the nearest table before he pulled out a knife from his back pocket and, in one swift motion, sliced through the dress.
He first cut the delicate lace around my throat, slicing the pearls too, and letting the precious beads fly across the floor. Then he sliced the side of the bodice so it was no longer squeezing my ribs.
The pressure eased and air rushed back into my lungs, and the panic shifted.
I could breathe, but tears started pouring down my face, ruining my once perfect makeup.
"I'm so sorry, I can't do this," I sobbed. " I can't do this. Please don't make me. I just can't."
I could hear the hysteria in my voice, but I couldn't make it stop.
The room was still spinning, and it felt like I was spiraling into a mess of chaotic fear and desperation.
"Moy kotyonochek," he murmured. "Please, talk to me."
His voice was soft and pleading, and it just made the tears come faster. "Please, I can't do this. There are too many people. They will know it's a lie. Please."
I expected him to insist in his usual gruff way.
He could have told me to get a grip, to control myself, or my grandmother would pay dearly for my disrespect.
He could have blamed me for the pearls now scattered all over the floor.
There were a thousand things I would have expected.
Pavel's lips pressed onto mine wasn’t one of them.
The shock of it stalled my panic just for a moment. My heartbeat slowed, only a fraction, and the icy chill turned into something warm.
His kiss was soft at first and soothed something deep inside me.
But when he pulled away, the familiar panic began creeping back, my breathing turning shallow again.
"Please." My body trembled as my fingers wrapped around the sharp edge of the counter so hard they ached.
He pried my fingers from the counter's edge and put them against his chest as he pressed his forehead to mine.
"You need strength,moy kotyonochek? Take mine." He kissed me again, this time deeper.
As he pressed his tongue into my mouth, he held my hands to his chest, forcing me to feel his strength, his power, and letting me borrow from it.
Something shifted inside me as I felt his steady heartbeat beneath my palms, his unwavering presence anchoring me. The adrenaline still raced through my veins, but with a new purpose.
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