Mikhail
I take hold of Maria's arm before she can disappear upstairs to her room. She stares at my hand on her arm and the way my fingers press into her skin. I loosen my hold but block her path.
"My office. Now."
Her twisted mouth shouts what she doesn't dare say. She doesn't want me to touch her. Slowly, she walks toward the office door, and I don't toy with her. But her look of revulsion angers me. Looks of hate I can handle.
But this? I didn't set out to hurt her, yet I have.
When I enter, Maria stands in front of the desk defiantly. Her chin is held high, and she stares straight ahead at nothing. Her gaze is carefully kept away from me. I step toward her, barely leaving an inch between us. She doesn't flinch when I raise my hand slowly toward her cheek. Her breathing comes fast,
