The seconds counted down, and he didn’t look away.
Something in my chest clenched, and heat flared up like a blade pressed too close to skin. There was rage in his gaze, but something else lingered too. Something softer, buried deep.
And neither of us made a move to say anything, but God, I felt it.
***
I was smoothing the sheets over the bed, tucking in the edges with more care than necessary. That was how desperately I needed a distraction from everything and everyone.
Hours had passed, dawn had turned to dusk since the moment on the terrace, but the look in his eyes plagued my mind.
I burned like I had a fever, and at first, I blamed the pregnancy hormones. But my unborn baby and I knew it had nothing to do with Matvey consuming my thoughts.
The eerie stillness of the day had bled into the night, broken only by the soft ticking of the clock on the wall.
I’d just pulled the blanket up to the fluffed pillows when I heard the door creak behind me.
I didn’t need to look; I just knew it was him.
If the cologne wasn’t a clear hint, the way the air shifted whenever he entered the room was enough to know.
It was like a foreboding aura— dark and dangerous, tempting, and enticing, all at the same time.
Being around him left me infuriated and confused. And this time was no different.
I stayed crouched beside the bed a second longer, breathing in the scent of flowers from outside and the musk from inside, pretending I hadn’t heard him. Pretending I didn’t notice the heat of his gaze prickling my back.
“I caught you staring.”
I stood and nodded without turning around. “That was hours ago. I wondered where everyone went and, in the process, wandered to the terrace.”
I felt him walk closer. The hardwood creaked under his steps, and my pulse answered in kind.
I turned then, folding my arms to hide the way my fingers trembled. He looked tired.
Again, I didn’t want to notice it, but I did. There were shadows under his eyes that I hadn’t noticed before, and wrinkle lines between his brows like he hadn’t slept in days.
“It was deliberate. I didn’t want anyone around so you wouldn’t be disturbed. I didn’t expect you to be up early,” he said, hard eyes searching my face. “Do you feel dizzy? Any headaches? Are you—”
“I’m fine.”
His jaw clenched, and the rage I had seen earlier in his eyes returned. Except, it didn’t seem like he was angry at me.
He took another step closer, looking more menacing than he already was seconds ago. “No, Zoella, you’re trying to be, but you’re not. The bastard that fucking did this—”
“You’ll find him and make him pay?”
I surprised us both with my response. He hadn’t expected to see my vulnerability, and I didn’t plan to expose it either.
It just happened to slip out, accidentally. But maybe it was because I was tired of holding it all in. Maybe I was tired of pretending that I could move past that trauma like it was a walk in the park.
Matvey was right; I was only pretending to be fine when I was dying inside, needing something—or maybe, someone—to hold me and tell me everything would be alright.
His jaw flexed, and he took yet another step forward, completely eliminating the bridge separating us.
“I’ll make sure he regrets making it out of his mother’s womb.” He hesitated, pausing as if he had something else to say but wasn’t sure how to deliver it. “No one hurts what’s mine and gets away with it.”
The minute he said that, my heart began thrashing against my chest, like a wild animal needing an escape.
