“You don’t have tofeelanymore,” he says gently. “You can be empty. Clean. Efficient.”
My thoughts slide, bumping into each other.Herface tries to surface and feels…farther away than it should. That scares me. The fear dulls almost immediately.
Alexei watches the moment it happens. “Is that what you want?” he asks.
My gaze remains locked with his as I nod. Just once.
Alexei releases my jaw and straightens, satisfied. “Good,” he says. “Go. Rest.”
Erik opens the door, eyes soulless.
I walk out on unsteady legs, wondering if mine will soon look like that. If Alexei has already broken him like he intends to do with me.
The door closes behind us, the quiet of the suite too soft for what my body just went through. My muscles are still overstimulated, like they want to keep defending me.
Adriana drops her purse on the counter. Nolan says something about “just ordering food” and disappears into his own suite with his phone already at his ear.
I don’t respond to either of them. I go straight to the bathroom and turn the shower on as hot as it’ll go. The steam fills the room as I strip out of my clothes. I stare at my reflection for a second—bruises stained along my ribs, a shadow of fingerprints on my arm, my mouth split and swollen.
I don’t look like myself anymore.
I step under the water and let it hit my shoulders. My skin stings, but at least the heat loosens some of the tightness in my chest. Alexei’s voice is still there, though.
You don’t have to feel anymore.
The thought follows me as I wash the blood out of my hair, as I scrub until my skin is raw. When I finally step out, wrapped in a towel, the room smells like citrus soap.
Adriana is at the kitchen island when I come out, sliding a glass toward me. Vodka cranberry. “Eat,” she says, nodding toward the takeout containers she’s laid out.
I sit. I drink. I chew mechanically.
She talks, but I don’t really hear her. She asks how I feel. I don’t answer. She asks if I want more. I shake my head. Her eyes keep flicking to me, like she’s waiting for something—anger, maybe. A meltdown. Anything that proves I’m still…here.
I’m not sure I am.
Alexei’s putting me through so much hell and fucking trauma.
Eventually, she sighs, defeated, and gathers the empty containers. “I’m going to lie down,” she says quietly.
I nod once.
She disappears into the bedroom.
I stay where I am, glass in my hand, phone in the other. I scroll without really seeing anything. News, headlines, and photos are useless to me right now. My thoughts won’t stay still.
The woman in Seaside. Her laugh. Her voice. The way she looked at me like I was her entire world. My jaw tightens.
Forget her.
The words hit me hard.
Forget her.
My thumb stills on the screen.
Forget her.
Alexei’s warning slides in just as smoothly as the heroin still seeping through my veins.