Page 65 of His Dark Pull
My gaze drifts to the window, where Mendel moves silently through the courtyard below. I raise a hand in greeting, but he only offers a curt nod in response. His eyes, hidden behind mirrored sunglasses, meet mine for a fleeting moment, a void that chills me.
I’m being paranoid.
My thoughts linger on Dexter; I almost pity him. I remind myself to talk to Alexander about it all later.
“I’ve missed you, Sarah,” I murmur, breaking the silence that has settled between us.
I have missed her.
“I’ve missed you too, Ava,” she replies, her green eyes reflecting concern. A beat of silence lingers before she speaks again. “I’m sorry for going behind your back with Tyler. He said you were in danger, and I-I just wanted to help. Can you forgive me?”
I nod, understanding what must have fueled her actions.
“Of course, Sarah. I forgive you.” A playful smirk tugs at my lips. “Doesn’t mean I like it, though. You’ll have to make it up to me with many more rounds of tea and cookies. And maybe a bulletproof vest. You know, for when I’m hanging out with my Eastern European mafia friends.”
A smile blooms on her face. “They are Eastern European mafia, huh? Seriously, Ava?”
We talk, the words tumbling out in a torrent as I recount the horrors of the past few days, trying to inject some humor into the retelling, making light of my near-death experiences and the twisted love triangle I’ve found myself in. With each shared detail, the burden on my shoulders seems to lighten.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through all that, Ava,” she whispers, her hand squeezing mine.
“It’s alright. I’m just glad it’s over,” I reply, sipping the soothing tea.
“Ava, I promise, from now on, I’ll always have your back,” she vows. “Even if it means learning some Russian to blend in with the mob.”
I burst out laughing. “It’s Polish, anddeal,” I say, raising my teacup in a mock toast. “To friendship, cookies, and maybe a little bit of international espionage.”
We share a smile, and I know that no matter what looms on the horizon, we will face it with a healthy dose of sarcasm and a bottomless supply of tea. And for now, that knowledge is enough.
“Did you hear about Tyler?” I ask, breaking the comfortable silence that has settled between us.
“Yes,” she replies with a sigh. “Maybe getting out of the city will be good for him.”
I nod in agreement and look at my watch. “I’ve got to go. I’m meeting Alexander.”
A knowing smile curves her lips. “Of course you are.”
“I love him, Sarah.”
“I know,”she replies. “Just— be careful, Ava. Know what you’re getting yourself into.”
Sarah’s right.I don’t know who I am anymore. Am I inherently good, just drawn to the dangerous allure of men like Alexander? Or is there a darkness within me, a shadow I’ve been denying all along?
All I know for certain is this:Alexander is my addiction.
“He’s changing, Sarah,”I say, hoping she’ll see the truth in my words. “He really is.”
I stand to leave, my gaze lingering on a framed photo of Sarah and me, our faces beaming with youthful optimism, a reminder of a time before Alexander’s world consumed me. The photo sits on a shelf beside a stack of self-help books, titles promising inner peace and mindful living.
Maybe we can find peace, I think. Maybe Alexander and I can build a life free from the shadows of the past.
* * *
The black marble kitchen of Alexander’s mansion is bathed in the sparkly glow of the chandelier, casting specks of light on the polished floor. The aroma of his prepared dinner fills the air, spices, and herbs awaken my senses. He pours me a glass of red wine. It is deep crimson.
“You’ve spoiled me,”I murmur, taking a sip and savoring the smooth, velvety texture.
“Only the best for my love,”he replies, his lips curving into a playful smirk.