Page 105 of Bought By the Ruthless Pakhan

And if there was one person in this world willing to lay out their darkest, most hidden parts for me to see, I should at least sit down and listen. Not for him—for my own answers.

The next morning, when I woke up, there was a note on the nightstand.

The handwriting was bold, a bit rushed.

"Company emergency. I'll be back at noon. Wait for me at home—I have something important to tell you. There are blueberry croissants you like in the fridge. Antonia will make coffee for you—Ivan."

I turned that note over twice.

He was making amends. He was also afraid. So I decided to wait for him to come back. Wait for him to speak those secrets he'd kept for five years, one sentence at a time.

Unfortunately, I didn't wait for him to return. I waited for Victoria instead.

She walked down the hallway in a light purple dress, heels clicking, every step deliberate and confident.

She stopped in front of me, looking down, that triumphant gleam in her eyes nearly spilling over.

"Oh, still here?" She laughed, light but barbed. "I thought you'd have the sense to leave last night. Turns out—you're more shameless than I imagined."

I said nothing. Just tightened my grip on the note.

"Ivan and I had a great talk last night, you know?" Victoria stepped closer, leaning against the wall, head tilted as she studied me like she was admiring her own work. "He said he'd consider getting back together with me. The condition? You stay—as his mistress."

That word drove into my stomach like a needle. I felt my stomach clench, but I kept my face blank.

I just looked at her quietly. Looked at that carefully calculated smile.

"He said," Victoria continued, "you've got no money, no background. As a mistress you're obedient enough, and it doesn't interfere with him getting back with me anyway."

I stood up, folding the note and putting it in my pocket. "That's nice." My voice was steadier than I expected. "Let him tell me himself."

Victoria's smile froze. She hadn't expected that—she thought I'd cry, make a scene, storm out. But I just walked past her toward the stairs. Her voice came from behind, sharp with wounded pride. "Where are you going? Did I say you could leave?"

I ignored her. I walked straight downstairs and left.

Sharing space with Victoria was suffocating.

Besides, I really hadn't been outside in so long.

When the gate closed behind me, the morning breeze hit my face—cool, carrying traces of dew and earth. I glanced at my phone. No message from Ivan. Maybe he really was busy.

I walked along the street for a while, all the way to the corner store. Bought water. Sat on the bench outside.

I wanted to wait, but I couldn't sit still.

Victoria's words crawled through my mind like insects—mistress, remarriage, obedient.

She was ridiculous.

What a shame—I didn't even want to engage with her.

I even thought what she said five years ago about discussing me with Ivan in bed was all lies.

I stood up, about to head back.

Just then, a black van suddenly shot out from the alley beside me, screeching to a stop right in front of me.

The door slid open. Before I could react, a hand clamped over my mouth and yanked me inside.