Chapter 30

From the moment he looked at me, I felt like I existed.

I haven't been out of this damn room for three hours.

Three hours that I had nothing to do.

I had been staring at that damned archaic clock for three hours, the seconds seemed like hours to me.

Suddenly, when I was in a lethargic state between sleeping and waking, the door opened letting in the imposing stature of Vladimir. I straightened up and stood up, facing him with my small size.

He crossed the tiny distance that still separated us, moistened his luscious lips before opening his mouth:

- My mother didn't have to talk to you like that.

I stared into his eyes trying to see a mocking or ironic gleam there, but nothing.

He seemed honest, and this realization squeezed my guts much more than its opposite. His honest gaze took possession of my intestine, squeezing it so hard that I thought I was going to vomit. In my stomach a feeling as disturbing as it was pleasant felt, taking my breath away for a moment.

- No, indeed, I replied with a dry throat.

He stretched out his hand, letting it hang in the air, cutting through the immensity of the void. I could make out the air, coming and going from his nose to his heart, as well as his breath pushing the surrounding oxygen.

For some unknown reason the air became electric. I saw him tense, his muscles contracted in such a tiny gesture, yet his whole being quivered. He was like a cheetah, ready to pounce on his prey in a fraction of a second, stretched like a cable pulled at its peak, like a sniper before shooting down his target.

Then, unexpectedly, for some unknown reason, he relaxed muscle by muscle, cell by cell.

His hand continued its ascent and rested gently on my cheek.

Static, I let his hand warm me and his thumb caress my cheek with a yet minimal movement. his past that came to haunt him relentlessly.

His eyes, two balls made of the original fire, burned my skin, scorching it with a simple look.

I opened my mouth imperceptibly, letting my hot breath escape from my burning lungs.

What produced this reaction on my being?

What kind of celestial weapon could burn me from the inside, consuming every organ of my feverish body?

His hand detached from my cheek, immediately creating a gap, and moved to trap a strand of my hair in his sensuous fingers. index.

- Why do you act so well? He groaned like an unmentionable complaint.

He let go of my lock of hair, as if under the weight of his revelation, then moved away from me, thus installing a safe distance.

He looked at me with his empty eyes, proof of a painful past.

Were we all meant to live with the scars of a fate we didn't choose?

- Get ready for tonight, I'll have your dress brought in an hour, he concludes, putting an end to the tumult of my thoughts.

Before leaving the room, he stared at me for a long time. His gaze disturbed me so much, it was so deep that I almost drowned in it. It seemed to me to be filled with unpronounceable words.

I had, at that moment, the urge to lose myself in his muscular arms, taking refuge in the warmth he gave off.

When he left, I shook my head. I shouldn't think so of Vladimir, the enemy, my kidnapper.

However, in spite of myself, while I ran a bath, it still haunted a corner of my head.

I tried somehow to get this man out of my head but nothing helped.

The hell why did I think so much about the one I hated?

Why did he refuse to leave my thoughts thus disturbing my days, thus disturbing my nights?