Bonds

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

-Maya’s POV-

“You don’t have to say it back,” he rushed on, his voice attempting to mask the vulnerability I saw reflected in his eyes. “And maybe I shouldn’t have been so hasty. I just… can’t hide how I feel. You’re an amazing woman, Amaya, and…”

He trailed off, searching my face, and a wave of panic washed over me. I couldn’t let him get any closer, not emotionally, not physically.

“I have kids,” the words tumbled out in a rush, escaping my control before I could stop them.

He blinked, a flicker of confusion replacing the affection in his eyes. “What?”

I could almost hear my father’s voice, a chilling echo in the back of my head, warning me against this very moment.

“Two of them,” I blurted out, my voice ragged. “Twins. And I didn’t… I mean, my father didn’t want me to tell you. But I don’t want to lie to you anymore,

Ivan.”

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. He just stared at me, his expression unreadable. The longer he remained silent, the heavier the weight of my confession became.

“Ivan? Please, say something.”

Then, a flicker of something dark crossed his features. Anpor? Hurt? Whatever it was, sent a shiver down my spine.

“How long were you going to keep it a secret?” His voice was low, laced with a dangerous edge. “Wait, that’s not even the question I should be asking. Who is the father?”

My mouth gaped open and closed like a fish out of water. No words came out, no justifications, no explanations.

Frustration flared in his eyes, quickly replaced by a chilling resignation. He let out a humorless scoff “Fine,” he muttered, the single word heavy with disappointment.

He turned away, his broad shoulders slumped in defeat, “I trust you can find your way back to wherever you go to hide your lies,” he said, his voice cold

and distant.

“Ivan, please!”

around. He just kept walking, leaving me alone in the echoing silence of the room. As he reached the doorway, a sliver of fear flickered within me. “Are

turning his head slightly. The expression on his face was unreadable. “No, Amaya,” he said finally. “I’m not. But I need time. Time to process this.” He paused

disappeared out the door, leaving me alone in the darkness with the deafening silence of my own

a deep, shaky breath, I opted against calling a cab. Walking, I reasoned, might offer

mind consumed by the fallout that

rhythmic clatter of my heels filled my ears and without realizing it,

84%

Chapter 17

to stare at

The Rusty Compass.

I was greeted by the warm, comforting scent of stale beer and well-worn leather. The low murmur of conversation hung in the air, punctuated by the occasional clinking of glasses. A lone young woman stood behind the bar, her auburn hair cascading down her shoulders in fiery waves. Her face, etched with the lines of experience, held a warmth

a double scotch,

face for a beat longer than necessary. Her eyes, the

her gaze night?”

wom barstool, defeat coursing through me. “The roughest of them all,” I

glass turned into two, then three and before I realized, I was

a mask of quiet understanding. When I finished,

door, their laughter grating in the previously subdued atmosphere. One of them, a man

barked at Riley, his gaze leering.

of defiance sparked in her hazel, “I’m sorry but there are no drinks available.

and your gunes.”

on the counter, the force rattling the glasses behind Riley, “This place ain’t for the likes of

“You are

I’m pretty sure you know that. You are

until he was in Riley’s face, “Again Lask. What

the edge of the barstool, the weight

churning in my stomach, “Maybe it’s

to do?” The man sneered, his gaze flickering to me with

of is. This is a

kind of joke, sweetheart?

man let out a guttural laugh. “Yeah,

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