Page 41 of Bought By the Ruthless Pakhan

I couldn't hold back the sharp intake of breath. Dull pain mixed with a barely detectable itch crawled up my spine. My tense limbs went soft.

His presence engulfed me. All the resolve I'd carefully gathered shattered against this familiar touch.

I closed my eyes. My nails loosened from my palms, and without control, my hands landed on his shoulders. The warm chest beneath the fabric matched the contours in my memory perfectly.

This chest.

He'd held another woman against it. He and that woman had speculated about me, belittled me, ground my careful feelings into dust.

That thought drove through me like an ice pick.

I opened my eyes and shoved him with everything I had.

He staggered back half a step, the corners of his eyes still flushed, his breathing still ragged. I stared at him, my chest heaving violently, my voice hoarse enough to crack. "Stop!"

"Ivan, we can't do this."

"Can't?" He stared at me, stepping forward again. I had nowhere to go, my back pressed hard against the wall, the cold marble digging into me painfully. "Anna, with me, there's no such thing as 'can't.'"

He moved closer again.

I squeezed my eyes shut in despair. Against absolute power, all my struggling was pointless.

"Hey, Dad, when are you sending the teacher up?"

Nadia's bright voice suddenly rang out from upstairs.

Relief washed over me.

Ivan's outstretched hand froze. His fingertips had already touched my cheek, but in that moment they went rigid, like he was using enormous force to stop himself from going further.

I pushed past him and headed for the stairs. My legs were still weak. I had to brace myself against the wall to stay upright.

Ivan reached out to steady me. I dodged to the side, avoiding his touch.

I heard him inhale sharply behind me, his voice still carrying that unsuppressed rasp. "Anna, you can't run from this."

I didn't look back. I climbed the stairs.

The wooden steps creaked softly under my feet. Each one felt like walking on cotton.

Upstairs, Nadia was leaning over the railing, looking down.

She tilted her head, her round eyes studying my face for several seconds before frowning. "Anna, why is your face so red?"

I smiled at her, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's a bit stuffy in here. Nadia, which subject do you want help with?"

She looked up at me. "Math."

Then she took my hand and led me to her room.

Her small hand wrapped around my finger. She walked exactly like she did when she was little.

"Anna," she said as we walked, "I have lots of little secrets I want to share with you."

"Really?" I followed her. "Let's finish your homework first, okay? We'll have plenty of time."

Nadia didn't refuse. She eagerly pulled out her workbook and spread it on the table, then dragged a small chair over for me to sit on.