Page 32 of Bound For You

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Page 32 of Bound For You

Twenty minutes later, I arrive at his building and park out front. I walk into the building, and the concierge smiles and waves at me. I wave back, and go into the elevator and press the penthouse button.

Once I get to his door, I put in the code, and it denies me. I frown and try it again. It denies me a second time, and a realization comes. He really does just see me as a booty call. I no longer have access to his private space. Tears fill my eyes and I drop my head in defeat. I need to get the hell out of here.

I should have known he was too good to be true.

As I turn, the elevator dings and Sergi walks out with Alexandr behind him. His hair is a mess and he’s now sporting a beard that I can’t even enjoy to look at because he is covered in blood that doesn’t appear to be his own, the same as Alexandr. My heart stops and eyes widen at the sight of them, making me gasp out in shock, my whole body frozen.

I hear Alexandr mutter, “Fuck” and he clears his throat. Sergi looks up and scowls when he sees me. There’s no love in his eyes, only irritation and disgust, making my heart break with another realization: I’ve lost him,

“What are you doing here, Avery? I told you I’d come to your place when I want to see you.”

My eyes fill with tears again, he didn’t call me my nickname in Russian, and he’s speaking to me like I’m some sort of hook up.

I rasp, “Who’s blood is that, Sergi?” I see Alexandr stiffen at his friend’s detachment and then at my question, while Sergi chuckles.

“How thickareyou? Months we’ve been fucking, and not once did you pick up on my day job.”

He chuckles darkly while I flinch at his words. He said he loved me, I gave him a part of me that many tried to steal. My tears fall as Alexandr clears his throat.

“Serg,” he says, but before he can continue the man who owns my heart speaks up.

“I’m the motherfucking second to a Mafia Don, who also happens to be a Pahkan for the Russian Bratva. All this blood on me, it belongs to men I’ve just fucking slaughtered for being involved with hurting my cousin.” He smirks evilly at me, and I feel like I’m going to throw up again for the third time today. I shake my head, my heart tearing in two. Alexandr squeezes Sergi’s shoulder, but he just shrugs him off and states, breaking me completely, “Don’t like it, then you know where the door is. You’re not the only woman in New York that I can fuck regularly, which seems to be the only good thing about you these days.”

My tears fall faster. There’s no guilt in his eyes. He means every word. I can’t stand here any longer, I’ve got to leave. I don’t recognize him. I rush past him, and he chuckles darkly, grabbing my arm hard, most likely leaving bruises, pulling me close.

I smell the alcohol on his breath when he sneers, “Tell anyone what you saw, and you’ll end up like those bastards, and will be joining your adoptive parents.”

I shove him hard, and he stumbles.

I snap, “Fuck you.” Then I run away from them both. I take the stairs instead of waiting for a elevator, not wanting to waitand be in the same space of the man who’s just tore me into pieces. I hear Alexandr shout my name, but I keep going.

Once I’m down a few floors, I take the elevator to the lobby. The concierge looks at me and frowns, but I don’t stop. I run to my car with my tears falling faster, and as soon as I have it the car in gear, I speed away, leaving tire marks on the ground.

I drive around for hours, before I finally make it home. My heart is broken.

He’s a killer.

I head into my apartment and fall apart. I sob for all the pain and hurt he’s put me through. I never knew the Mafia existed. I heard rumors, but always thought it was hearsay, and I didn’t think the love of my life would be a part of it. But that’s not the thing I’m so focused on, it should be, but it’s not. He only sees me as an easy lay, he told me he loved me, I was bound for him, but it turns out he wasn’t bound for me like I thought. I sob for hours until my body gives out and I fall asleep clutching to the picture frame of us both. In the picture, he’s holding me and my legs are wrapped around his waist, and our foreheads are touching, and we’re smiling at each other. A woman walked past and saw our love, so she took the photo, then sent it to me. But it’s not love, is it? How can it be when he’s been lying to me about who he really is, how can it be when he just threw us away, like I meant nothing.

I wake up to messages from Melanie a few hours later.

Mel: Well how did it go? x

Mel: Okay, you’re not responding, which means great sex, get it girl. X

Tears fall from my eyes; it wasn’t a dream. I message her back.

Me: I think we broke up. Don’t really want to talk about it. I’ll see you later x.

I put my phone down and get ready for my shift at Brew Box. Someone asked if we could switch shifts, and since I didn’t have classes this morning, I said okay. And as much as I want to hide away and cry, I can’t. I made a promise to my parents, and I’m going to keep it. Plus, it’s better than drowning in pain all day.

I’ve been at work for about an hour, when the door opens and the bell rings. I stand up from the small stool behind the counter on a sigh, ready to serve the customer. A man with my eye’s stares back at me. Fury and anger take a hold of my veins. How dare he show up here? He looks at me with guilt, but screw him.

I sneer out, “What can I get you?”

He swallows hard and rasps, “A black coffee and a minute with my daughter.”

My body vibrates with anger, I turn around and grab a to go cup and fill it with black coffee, then hand it to him and say, “Get out.”




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