Chapter 2

Bella’s POV

My feet moved along the sidewalk without direction. Each step felt hollow as if my body had already begun to detach from whatever life remained inside it. Streetlights cast long shadows that stretched ahead of me like accusing fingers. I kept walking. The night air brushed cold against my skin yet I barely registered it.

Everything inside me had gone numb after Josh's final words. So this was his plan all along. The rescue, the gentle touch, the promises of a better life. All of it calculated so he could use my rare blood for his experiments. I had loved him. I had trusted him completely. Now that trust lay shattered at my feet and I did not know how to pick up the pieces.

Memories played in my mind without mercy. The first night he brought me home after the brothel. How he had drawn a bath and left clean clothes folded neatly on the bed. The quiet evenings when he listened to my stories about my father and never judged me for where I came from. The way his hand felt warm against my back when we walked together.

I had believed every moment. I had built my entire world around the idea that someone finally saw me as more than a transaction. Now those same memories tasted like poison. He never loved me. He only needed a lab rat with RH null blood. The realization carved deeper with every step. My chest tightened and my eyes burned but I refused to cry on the street. Not yet.

I stopped in front of a bar. Neon lights flickered above the door promising temporary escape. Part of me wanted to keep walking. Alcohol would only make the toxins in my system worse. The doctor had been clear about that. Yet another part of me whispered that it no longer mattered. My life was already unraveling. I would never return to Josh. If death waited for me at the end of this experimental cycle then I might as well meet it on my own terms. I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The interior smelled of spilled beer and faint cigarette smoke. Dim lighting wrapped around scattered tables and a long wooden counter. I found a stool at the end of the bar and sat down heavily. The bartender gave me a quick glance before nodding. "Tequila" I ordered, my voice flat. He poured a shot and set it in front of me.

I stared at the clear liquid for a long moment then lifted the glass and drank. The burn traveled down my throat and settled in my stomach. It did not erase the pain but it dulled the edges enough for me to breathe. I ordered another. Then another. Sadness clung to me like a second skin. Grief for the marriage I thought I had. Grief for the version of myself that had dared to hope. I drank steadily, feeling the alcohol loosen the tight knot in my chest.

A man approached the counter and slid onto the stool beside me. Even through the haze of tequila I noticed him immediately. He carried an unmistakable presence. Maximo Volkov. Josh's uncle. I had met him once briefly at a family gathering but we had barely spoken.

Tonight under the low lights he looked different. His dark hair was neatly styled with a few strands falling across his forehead giving him a slightly tousled appearance. Sharp cheekbones framed a strong jawline covered in a light layer of stubble that accentuated his mature features. His eyes were a deep piercing gray that seemed to hold layers of experience and quiet intensity. Broad shoulders filled out his tailored shirt which hinted at a powerful build beneath the fabric. His hands rested on the counter large and capable with faint scars across the knuckles suggesting a life that had not always been easy.

A subtle cologne reached me, something woody and expensive that mixed with the bar's atmosphere. Handsome did not feel like a strong enough word. He looked like a man who commanded rooms without raising his voice.

He turned toward me with genuine concern softening his expression. "What happened?" he asked, his voice low and steady.

I took another sip of tequila before the words spilled out. My voice shook as I spoke. "Josh used me, Maximo. He married me just to test some dangerous drug on me because of my blood. RH null. The doctor said it could kill me if I keep taking it. He never loved me. He only wanted a lab rat. He admitted everything. He said I owed him for the money he spent getting me out of the brothel. I will die anyway so what does it matter now."

Tears gathered as I spoke. My voice cracked when I reached the part about the brothel and my father's betrayal. By the end I whispered that I would die soon. "What was the point of fighting anymore?"

Maximo listened without interruption. When the first sob broke free from my chest he shifted closer and wrapped his arms around me. His embrace felt solid and warm. I buried my face against his shoulder letting the tears fall freely for the first time since the hospital. He held me through it, one hand gently stroking my back. The comfort surprised me. I had not expected kindness from anyone connected to Josh. Yet here he was, offering it without question.

After several minutes I pulled back slightly and looked up at him. The alcohol made the edges of my vision soft. "Why do you look so handsome tonight?" I murmured my words slurring together.

Something shifted in his gray eyes. I did not wait for an answer. I leaned forward and kissed him. My lips met his with desperate need born from heartbreak and tequila. He stiffened at first, his hands coming to my shoulders. "It is dangerous" he said against my mouth, his voice rough. "You are still my nephew's wife."

I kissed him harder, silencing the warning. "Please" I whispered between kisses. "I need this. I need to feel something other than pain." The taste of him mixed with the lingering burn of alcohol, and I wanted more. He resisted only a moment longer, then his control slipped.

He lifted me from the stool as if I weighed nothing. His arms carried me out of the bar into the cool night air. I wrapped my legs around his waist feeling the strength in his body as he walked us toward his car. He opened the door and lowered me onto the backseat. The leather felt cool beneath me. Maximo followed, sliding in after me and closing the door behind us. His hands moved over my body with careful hunger.

"Tell me if you want me to stop," he said, his breath warm against my neck. His fingers traced the curve of my neck then lower across my collarbone. I arched into his touch, gasping softly as he explored my skin. Our mouths met again deeper this time. Foreplay built between us in heated touches and shared breaths. His lips trailed along my jaw while his hands slipped under my clothes finding sensitive places that made me shiver.

"I want you" I told him my voice thick with need. "Do not stop." His touch grew bolder drawing soft sounds from my throat. The world outside the car windows blurred into nothing. Only this moment existed. Only his solid presence and the way he made me feel wanted even in my broken state. Heat pooled low in my belly as his fingers continued their exploration. I clung to his shoulders, my body responding despite the alcohol and the heartbreak.

I looked into his eyes, my heart racing and my body aching with need. "Fuck me please" I whispered.