Page 19

Sarah

I stand in the changing room, slipping into the black dress Ivan picked out for me. The fabric clings to my curves, the hemline cutting daringly high, leaving little to the imagination. This entire shopping trip was Ivan’s idea, his way of making sure I wear exactly what he wants when we return to the States. He didn’t even bother to hide his reasons, casually mentioning that he wouldn’t have the time once we got back, so it had to be now.

I take a deep breath, smoothing the dress over my hips before stepping out into the main area of the boutique. Ivan is waiting for me, leaning casually against a plush armchair, his eyes lifting from his phone the moment he hears my footsteps.

His gaze roams over my body, slow and deliberate, making my skin tingle under the intensity of his scrutiny. For a moment, the air between us thickens, charged with something electric. Finally, his lips curve into a satisfied smirk.

“You look stunning,” he says, his voice low, almost a purr. “I don’t want other men seeing all of this.” His eyes darken, the possessiveness clear in his tone.

I glance down at the dress, realizing how revealing it is, and a small part of me isn’t surprised by his reaction. Ivan has always been possessive, always needing to assert his control. It’s something I’ve grown used to, though it still rubs me the wrong way at times. But I know better than to argue. Instead, I nod and turn back to the changing room to try on the next dress he’s chosen.

This one is different—still elegant, but more modest, the hemline falling just above my knees, the neckline higher, leaving much more to the imagination. I slip it on, the soft fabric feeling like a second skin, and take a moment to appreciate how well it fits. Ivan’s taste is impeccable, I’ll give him that.

When I step out again, his eyes light up with approval, and a grin spreads across his face. “Perfect,” he says, standing to close the distance between us. He circles me slowly, his hand grazing my waist as he takes in every detail. “This suits you.”

I can feel the warmth of his touch through the fabric, a reminder of the night before, and my heart skips a beat. I force myself to focus on the present as he turns to the saleswoman, his tone commanding. “She’ll be wearing this one out. Proceed to checkout.”

As we leave the boutique, bags in hand, Ivan’s presence is as commanding as ever, drawing the attention of everyone around us. We enter the elevator, and I take a deep breath, trying to calm the unease that settles in my chest. I’ve always hated elevators—small, enclosed spaces that make me feel trapped. It’s something I’ve never told Ivan, something I’ve tried to manage on my own.

He glances at me, his sharp eyes catching the tension in my posture. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice low but insistent.

“Nothing,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “It’ll be over soon.”

I try to focus on the soft hum of the elevator as it begins its descent, but the walls feel like they’re closing in, the space around me growing smaller with each passing second. My breathing quickens, my pulse racing, and I know I’m teetering on the edge of panic.

Suddenly, the elevator jolts to a stop, and my heart leaps into my throat. The lights flicker, and I feel the first wave of full-blown panic crash over me.

“Sarah.” Ivan’s voice cuts through the haze, firm and commanding, but I can hear the undercurrent of concern. He steps closer, his hand on my arm as he turns me to face him. “Look at me.”

I try to focus on him, but the walls seem to be closing in, the air growing thick and heavy. My chest tightens, and I can feel the panic clawing at my throat, threatening to overwhelm me. Ivan’s grip on my arm tightens, and he pulls me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me in a protective hold.

“You’re safe,” he murmurs, his voice a steady anchor in the chaos. “I’m here. Just breathe.”

I cling to him, burying my face in his chest as I try to steady my breathing. The scent of him surrounds me, familiar and grounding, and I focus on the rhythm of his heartbeat, strong and steady against my ear. His hands rub soothing circles on my back, and slowly, the panic begins to recede, the tightness in my chest easing as I take deeper breaths.

“Good girl,” he whispers, his voice soft and comforting, a side of him I’ve rarely seen. “Just hold on to me.”

I shut my eyes, focusing on the warmth of his body, the strength in his arms, and for the first time, I feel a sense of peace wash over me. The fear is still there, lurking in the background, but Ivan’s presence calms me in a way I didn’t expect. He’s always been a source of control, of power, but in this moment, he’s something more—something that feels almost like safety.

After what feels like an eternity, the elevator jerks back to life, the lights steadying as it begins to move again. Ivan keeps his hold on me, his hand stroking my hair as I slowly come back to myself, the panic subsiding into a dull throb at the back of my mind.

When the doors finally slide open, I let out a shaky breath, stepping out of the elevator with Ivan still at my side. My legs feel unsteady, but he holds me up, guiding me out into the open air.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible as I look up at him, my eyes meeting his.

He nods, his expression serious but softer than I’ve seen it before. “You don’t need to thank me,” he says, his voice low. “You’re mine, Sarah, and I look out for you.”

The words send a shiver through me, and for the first time, I allow myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there’s more to this man than the darkness he so often wears like armor.