Aurora
My wrist hurt.
My head hurt.
My back hurt.
Everything fucking hurt. Yet, nothing seemed to be quite as painful as the knowledge that my family and everyone around them didn’t like me.
“Were you respected? Loved? Liked?”
Ivan’s questions played in my head on a mocking repeat. No one liked me. No one even cared about me.
I was given to Slavik and the Volkov Bratva because my father didn’t want to give away the daughter he actually loved.
Tears filled my eyes, and I hated how I felt, the way I was reacting. Tilting my head back, I stared up at the pool room. Sergei had cleared the pool so I could use it. Every other time, I always felt a little embarrassed at the power he used for my comfort. Today, a week after getting the tattoo that aligned me with the Bratva, I needed to do something other than sit in the apartment. Even reading wouldn’t rid my mind of these thoughts. I tried so hard not to let them consume me, but it was next to impossible.
Rubbing at my temple, I took a deep breath, aware of Sergei watching me. He’d been really sweet and kind to me. I didn’t know if that was part of his job description, but I didn’t know how to handle it.
I wasn’t one for a pity party. At least not every single day.
Today, a week after the attack and the questioning from Ivan Volkov himself, the pain of my past just wouldn’t go away. All the memories surrounded me, refusing to leave me be. The way people ignored me, even as a child. When I wanted to play. I was never good enough. Often left to read as the other kids couldn’t stand me.
My mother would tell me to leave the kids alone. If they didn’t want to play with me, then maybe there was something wrong with me.
No matter how kind I was, I wasn’t liked. At parties, I was ignored. No one asked me to dance. I spent most of my time standing in the corner, watching all the fun happening, knowing I was never going to be part of it. The shopping trips. I watched Isabella so often get invited.
I’d be close by, but no one would extend the invitation in my direction. If I asked if I could come, some excuse would be made.
In the end, I stopped trying to be involved.
No one wanted me. No one liked me.
I’d spend hours, staring out of a window, trying to figure out what people hated about me. Why I was so disliked, and even now, I couldn’t figure out a reason.
“Are you okay?” Sergei asked.
“I’m fine.” I wasn’t swimming. The pool wasn’t helping to alleviate my troubles. I’d stopped trying to figure out long ago why people couldn’t stand me and yet here I was, still attempting to find a reason.
I climbed out of the pool, wrapped a towel around my waist, and walked toward the doors.
Sergei was there, and no one else waited to enter the room.
I took a deep breath as we headed toward the elevators, but today, I didn’t want to stand with the doors showing my reflection.
“I’m going to take the stairs.”
“Aurora,” he said.
I stopped at the door and turned toward him.
“You know you can trust me, don’t you?”
“I don’t know you, Sergei.”
“I know you.”
This made me laugh. “No, you don’t. You know what you’re told to know.”
“You can trust me.”
Staring at him, I truly believed he thought that. “I have to go.”
My hand was bound up so no water got to the ink that now stayed on my skin. Removing the plastic cover, I released my hand and took the stairs, heading toward the penthouse suite.
I couldn’t stand heights.
Sergei stayed at my back and knowing he was right behind me didn’t fill me with comfort. I’d noticed the lingering looks he’d been giving me over the past few weeks. They weren’t good. He was a bodyguard.
If Slavik saw him and jumped to the wrong conclusions, we’d both be dead. I didn’t want to be the one responsible for getting a man killed, and Sergei seemed nice.
Entering the apartment, I was stopped as Sergei reached out and grabbed my arm. I froze. He tugged me close and he further surprised me as he pulled me into his arms.
“Sergei, stop,” I said.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I can see that you’re hurting, and I can’t stand to see you in pain, Aurora. Please, let me be your rock.”
He stroked my hair.
This was so wrong.
He shouldn’t be touching me. I needed to get him to stop, but as he held me, at that moment, a wave of emotion struck me hard. Against my better judgment, I held on to him and sobbed.
I didn’t find Sergei attractive.
He was a very good-looking man, but he was a guard. I never made it a habit to fall for a man I could never have. Sergei worked for my husband. This put me in a place I didn’t want to be in.
There was no way I could allow my husband to think anything was going on between us. Sergei was … a friend? I didn’t even know if I could call him that. I never had friends. People didn’t like me.
Was this a ploy to get rid of me? Had Slavik put him up to this so he’d have a reason to kill me?
Fear raced down my spine, and I jerked back. “You shouldn’t have done that. Slavik, if he ever finds out-”
“He won’t,” Sergei said.
“He’s your boss. You can’t hug me or treat me as anything other than work.” I was dressed in a bathing suit and a towel. “You’re a guard.”
“And you think I don’t notice you? You think I haven’t guarded other women and I don’t see the difference?”
My throat felt like it was on fire. “Has … Slavik used you to protect his other … women?”
“I’m not going to say it,” he said.
“Let me guess, they had more of a social life. If you’re bored, I can talk to him. Ask him to arrange for someone else to keep an eye on me.”
“For fuck’s sake, no, that’s not what I’m getting at. What I’m saying, Aurora, is I can see you. I know you’re hurting. You’re right, you’re not like other women. I’m offering to be your friend. The shoulder you cry on.”
“If Slavik heard you, he’d get rid of you. I don’t need friends.”
“Then what do you need?” he asked. “The way I see it, you’re fucking lonely. You have no friends, and your husband comes around to what? To fuck you so you can have his child.”
I physically flinched. “Stay away from me.”