The car had not even come to a full stop before I pushed the door open, desperate for air and distance. I could not breathe in that confined space with Vladimir any longer. He was going to drive me insane.
The memory of his low, coaxing voice and the promise he had made sent another wave of goosebumps across my skin. It felt surreal, like a scene from a fever dream. This could not be my reality.
Lenka's father wanted me, and he was not even pretending otherwise. He stated it plainly, as if it were a fact. What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to function? I worked for him. My only hope was that he would keep his distance within the restaurant. A part of me wondered which prospect terrified me more: him trying to touch me again, or the terrifying possibility that I might enjoy it.
