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Nothing.

Not even a single word from him since that day.

I’d been losing my mind these past few days, my patience growing thinner all week. I couldn’t understand how someone who was all over me—kissing all the right places, sucking my breasts, licking my cunt clean—could just vanish like I never mattered.

Each time my phone’s screen lit up with a text or a phone call, my heart would skip a beat, and my eyes would widen in anticipation. However, every time, I would always be disappointed when it turned out it wasn’t him.

Why? Why make me feel like a woman, why get me so attracted, so into him, only to leave without a trace? Was that the plan all along: get me to fall and then slip between my legs? Did that night mean nothing to him?

Was I the only one who had such a wonderful time that day? Did he hate the sex? Was I so terrible that he had to ghost me like I never existed in his life? What the hell was really going on here? Nothing seemed to make sense to me at the moment.

I’d honestly thought that he was into me. I thought we were on the same page. And that maybe, just maybe, there was something growing between us. But it was clear now that the only thing that grew was the shaft in his pants.

God, that shaft of his!

A flutter rose in my chest, a tingling sensation sprinting down my core at the mere thought of his cock inside me. Sergei was a man, and he handled me as such. Reminiscing on his kisses, his warm breath, and the sound of his primal groan sent heat waves across my body.

I’d been in my bed all day long, and with the images of that day replaying in my head, my hand slipped down between my legs. The urge to play with myself was almost impossible to resist, especially as I recalled the way he explored my body.

“You smell so nice. I bet you’ll taste even better,” his words echoed in my head, my chest swelling with desire.

It was like Sergei’s touch had unlocked something in me—like he ignited a flame too powerful to quench.

I bit my lower lip, subtly writhing over the sheets with my hand brushing against my clit.

I tried to stop myself, to take control of my mind and body, but Sergei left a mark on my soul.

The memory of his touch was branded on my skin.

Thoughts of him got me wet within seconds, and soon, a soft, abrupt moan left my lips as my index finger slid down my entrance. It was so slippery and warm. My free hand snapped upward, palm slamming over my mouth. The quiet purr was muffled, my eyes wide with fleeting excitement.

My knees came together, my thighs reflexively brushing against each other as this raw, undiluted passion coursed through me like lightning.

He ghosted you like you’re some whore to be used and disposed of. And you’re here, masturbating to his face? A sharp, stern voice in my head snapped me back to reality. You’re better than this, girl. Shake it off and get your sanity back.

I pulled my hand from my cunt. My eyes blinked, and my chest heaved slightly, as though the spell he’d had over me was broken.

What am I doing?

I covered my face in shame, my body still shaking from the ecstasy. My breath was uneven, and my heart raced in my chest. “Fuck, I need a distraction.”

I stared at the ceiling, my jaw tightening in an attempt to shift my mood from horny to angry.

It was the only way I could calm myself and resist this unbridled passion coursing through my veins.

I’d never been so drawn to a man as I was to Sergei.

He was evil—a man with a dark heart—yet for some reason, I couldn’t help being attracted to him.

Now he’d ghosted me. He fucked me and dumped me like I was some used commodity. I thought there was a spark between us. I thought I meant something to him. Guess I was wrong. He was nice to me just so he could fuck me and add my name to the long list of women he’d deceived.

What a jerk!

With each passing second, I focused my thoughts and mind on the fact that he used me. And just like that, that passion, that desire, dissipated into thin air, replaced by hate and disdain. I was a fool to have trusted that he was different despite knowing the type of man he was.

Don’t you think you’re overreacting? Maybe he’s been busy; that’s why he hasn’t reached out. You know the nature of his work, another voice, a tinier one, whispered at the back of my mind.

Before I could even consider the possibility, the previous voice rebuked me; You may be dumb, Ayla. But you’re not stupid. Busy? Are you serious? Come on, you’re not that gullible.

“Great. I’m officially losing my mind,” I grumbled, forcing myself out of bed.

That instant, my phone buzzed on the bedside table, an incoming call. I smoothed my hair back, a soft sigh leaving my lips as I extended a hand and picked it.

It was Ester.

My lips curled into a smile. “Hey, you.”

“You busy tonight?” she asked. Before I could respond, she added, “Scratch that. It’s not like you have anything important to do anyway.”

“Rude,” I said, a faint scowl flashing across my face.

“What’re you expecting, an apology?” she asked, her tone smooth and teasing.

I sighed, rubbing my eyeballs. “What do you want, Ester?”

“What do I want?” She chuckled on the other end of the line. “I wanna help you out of your misery.”

My brows arched, a scoff escaping my mouth. “I’m not miserable.” I let out a light laugh.

“Oh, yeah? Try saying that with a little more conviction, and I might believe you.” The sarcasm in her tone couldn’t be any more glaring.

I sighed, scratching the back of my head.

“Listen, you’ve been bailing on me all week, and that’s unlike you,” she said, a glint of concern lacing her voice.

“I’ve…I’ve just been dealing with a lot lately,” I said, rising to my feet.

“Yeah, that’s not obvious at all,” she replied, sharp and sarcastic. “Listen, I’m coming to pick you up tonight. Be ready by eight.”

I cocked my head slightly, eyes squinting by a whisper.

“Oh, and…wear something really nice too,” she said with finality and hung up the phone, leaving no room for arguments.

“Great,” I murmured.

I had no idea where she was taking me, but somehow, I could hear loud music with the bass thumping in my head.

It was definitely going to be a club. Not bad for a distraction.

***

Yep.

I was right. It was a club. A really nice one, at that.

“Come on.” She grabbed my wrist and dragged me onto the dance floor. “You’re too pretty to be miserable.”

Now, lost in the pulse of bass and strobe lights, I found myself surrounded by sweat-slicked bodies and cheers that vibrated through my bones.

“How do you feel?!” Ester asked, raising her voice against the loud music, laughing as she spun me around.

My response was a charming smile, my hands flying into the air as I let the music take control. For once, I wasn’t thinking about Sergei, wasn’t worrying about my future, or my family’s betrayal. I was just…grooving to the DJ’s hypnotic beats.

“That’s it, girl!” Ester cheered me on as I moved my body to the rhythm of the sound. “Let go of all that negativity—just enjoy the party and have fun!”

I whipped my hair back and forth, my feet moving in sync with the music.

My hands trailed my body, feeling the gentle curves behind the fabric of my dress.

Perhaps it was the music, because it was almost as if something was taking over me, something sensual.

As my hands caressed my body, my hips swayed gently, my heart swelling with passion.

With my hands in my hair, I danced slowly, as if possessed by the spirit of lust. Was it just the music, or was it also my dark desires finding expression? Whatever it was, it was starting to draw unwanted attention. I could feel it—the gazes, the lustful stares of the men around me.

The more I danced, majestic and seductive, the more I recalled Sergei’s thrusts: deep, hard, and unrelenting.

Fuck!

This was supposed to distract me from him, not the other way round.

The song wasn’t helping my condition at all. It was too sexual, and every rhythm seemed to remind me of him. Sergei. As my hands glided over my figure, I pretended they were his hands touching me, igniting that dangerous flame within me.

I threw my hands in my hair, my waist grinding, my eyes closed as I imagined him here with me. In my head, his arms were steady on my hips from behind, my ass brushing against his boner. He leaned in, lips against my neck, hands guiding the movement of my waist.

It wasn’t until I reopened my eyes that I realized someone was indeed behind me, grabbing my waist like he owned me. Repulsed, I pulled away and turned to see the dirtbag touching me without my permission.

“What’s the matter, princess?” he asked, licking his lower lip with eyes that flashed with lust and attraction.

Judging by the way his gaze swept over me, it was clear that he’d already stripped me naked in his mind.

Eww.

He was no older than I was: blue eyes, athletic build, not so good-looking but not so bad either. Most girls my age would find him attractive. But I didn’t. In fact, I felt irritated that he’d touched me the way he did.

“You were into me a minute ago,” he said, daring to step closer.

“Back off, you perv,” I warned, harsh and hostile.

What am I even doing here? I pressed my hands against my temples, confused and in desperate need of an escape.

“Hey, you okay?” Ester reappeared by my side, grabbing my shoulders. “Is he bothering you?” She faced the young man with a frown on her face. “Are you bothering her, dude?”

He raised his hands as if proving his innocence. “It’s a fuckin’ club. I just wanted to dance with the lady. That’s all.”

“Well, she doesn’t wanna dance with you. Now scram, pretty boy!” she snarled.

“Fuckin’ weirdos,” he mumbled and walked away.

I rubbed my eyes, still irritated by another’s hands touching me. “I need a drink.”

“This way.” Ester grabbed my wrist and led me to a bar.

She conversed with the bartender, a hot dude covered in tats with a straight cut across an eye. Knife wound, maybe.

I sat on a stool before the counter, my head flooded with a million and one things all at once. Why did that guy’s touch repulse me so badly? There was nothing disgusting about him, yet I was irritated that he had his hands on my hips.

My body wasn’t his to touch or caress. How dare he?

“Here,” Ester’s voice brought me back to the present. “This should help.” She handed me a drink, something pink and fizzy.

It was a little too sweet when I took a sip, but I let the burn calm the knot in my chest.

Ester’s phone vibrated in her purse, and she excused herself to go answer it, saying she’d be back in a minute.

Just a few seconds after she left, my eyes scanned the space. I looked up, and that was when my whole world came crumbling right in front of me.

Up in the VIP lounge above the dance floor, where the velvet ropes separated the elites from the chaos, I spotted him.

Sergei.

At first, I wasn’t entirely sure it was him—there were too many women clustered around, their bodies blocking my view, like vultures circling something shiny.

I looked closer, refusing to take my eyes off until I found out whether or not it was him. One of the women tugged him gently by the tie, guiding him back until he sank onto a plush leather couch.

In a moment of what looked like foreplay, the woman’s head shifted to the side, and his face came into view.

It was him.

It was Sergei.

A gasp fell from my lips, and I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until now.

The woman—Asian, long legs, painted lips, half-naked—straddled him, her hips rolling against his groin.

My stomach dropped.

I watched, frozen in place, as she leaned in, whispering something in his ear before claiming his lips like they were hers.

My jaw clenched, a frown settling on my face as a mix of pain, betrayal, and fury coursed through me. What was even worse was that Sergei didn’t stop her. He didn’t flinch. He just sat there, dominated by this sex worker.

A moment later, he glanced in my direction and accidentally met my gaze. His breath caught, eyes widening in shock—almost imperceptibly. Then, in what seemed like an eternity, we stared at each other, the music fading, lights blurring right before my teary eyes.

He shoved the woman aside like a piece of trash and sprang to his feet, his eyes never leaving mine.

Too late.

I set my glass on the countertop, and without a second thought, I stormed out of the club, my heart hammering in my chest.

That voice in my head was right. He was busy. Busy entertaining other women.

With my head held high, I pushed through the crowd, my heels clicking rapidly against the floor. I continued forward and didn’t slow down until I was completely outside. Pressing my hand against the wall for support, I bent over, struggling to catch my breath as if I’d just run a marathon.

My free hand snapped to my chest as if to prevent my thrumming heart from jumping out.

The ache hit fast and sharp, like a fuckin’ slap to my face.

There was nothing special about me. Nothing at all.

I was just another girl stupid enough to fall for his trap, loose enough to let him between my legs.

I was a fool.

Then, I smelled it, that familiar scent.

I turned around, and there he was, standing, shoulders slightly slumped, eyes pinned on me. He wore his signature expression—flat and unreadable.

It was cold outside, but my face burned with my fury and hatred.

My lips trembled, my heart threatening to explode.

“What was I thinking?” I scoffed, my hands in my hair, eyes darting around like a mad woman.

“What was I thinking, believing that I was special when I was just another name you crossed off your list?” The words tumbled out of my mouth in a nervous rush.

“Ayla,” he called softly, extending a hand to hold my wrist.

“Don’t touch me!” I snapped and pulled away, repulsed. I glared at him, fuming with misted eyes. “I don’t know what we had,” I said, my voice breaking under the weight of my pain, “but whatever it was, it’s over.”

His jaw clenched, his gaze darkening at my words and the venom in my tone.

“I don’t wanna see you ever again, Sergei, so stay the fuck away from me!” I growled, harsh and stern.

He stood there in silence, watching me walk out of his life as quickly as I’d come in.