hurt
He sat on the worn leather sofa, his posture straight, his dark eyes locked onto her with unnerving intensity. There was no mistaking it—he was waiting for her. He didn’t speak, didn’t even shift his gaze as she approached. His presence filled the space, making the air feel thicker, charged with a tension that wrapped itself around her chest.
Lena
Lena stopped a few steps away from him, her back straight and her gaze unwavering. Don’t let him intimidate you.
Ivan Volk
He raised a brow, almost amused by her defiance. The faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he slowly stood, towering over her.
Ivan Volk
“Lena,” he said, his voice a dark velvet that sent a chill down her spine. “You never cease to surprise me.”
Ivan Volk
“You’ve got fire, I’ll give you that. Most people would have run from the trouble you’ve caused today. But not you.”
Ivan Volk
He took a step toward her, closing the distance between them, but Lena stood her ground, refusing to back down. The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words and unacknowledged tension.
Ivan Volk
“You’re different from the others,” he finally said, his voice softer now, though still holding that dangerous edge. “Most people would’ve crumbled by now, but you—” He paused, studying her with those unreadable eyes. “You’re not like them. And I find that... interesting.”
Lena
Lena’s heart hammered in her chest, her mind racing. What is he trying to say?
Lena
“I don’t care what you find interesting,” she said, her voice steady but with a faint edge of warning. “I’m not your project. I don’t owe you anything.”
Ivan Volk
His lips curled into another one of those small, dangerous smirks. “You owe me nothing,” he agreed, his tone teasing, almost like a game. “But be careful, Lena. People who get involved with me usually end up getting hurt.”
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