Chapter 25
Mina
The silence between us pulsed like a warning. I stood at the edge of the kitchen, arms folded tightly across my chest, pretending calm I didn’t feel. My pulse thudded in my ears. Every second that passed made the air feel heavier.
Mikel stalked across the room like a storm brewing in real time. His jaw clenched, eyes dark with something volatile. The dim kitchen light overhead flickered slightly, casting shadows that made his expression seem even more distorted.
“You think this is funny?” he snapped, whirling around to face me. “You think I’m some goddamn joke to everyone now?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. His words hit the walls, sharp and echoing, bouncing back with more venom than the first time they were said.
“You show up at the game in his hoodie,” he growled, the word dripping with disgust. “Looking all proud, like you’re his trophy. Do you even hear yourself?”
I swallowed hard. “I was supporting a friend,” I said, steady and flat, though my throat felt tight.
He scoffed—a dry, humorless sound. “A friend? Is that what we’re calling it now?” His hands flew up in mock surrender. “Yeah, sure, Mina. Everyone’s just friends with their little hockey boyfriend.”
His sarcasm scraped like sandpaper, but I refused to flinch.
“You’re overreacting,” I said quietly, gripping the edge of the counter behind me, grounding myself.
That broke something in him. He laughed, but there was nothing amused about it. “You don’t get it, do you? You’ve made me look like a fool. Everyone’s talking—everyone. They see you with him, and I’m the pathetic guy you left in the dust.”
I finally stepped forward. “What do you want from me, Mikel?” My voice wavered, but I pushed through. “Do you want me to pretend I’m not allowed to be happy now? That I owe you my silence forever?”
He froze, eyes burning as he stared me down. “You think I care if you’re happy?” he hissed. “I want the truth. Is this real with him? Are you seriously choosing him over me?”
The desperation buried in his rage caught me off guard. But it didn’t matter. Not anymore.
“It’s none of your business,” I said, voice firm now, even if my heart was pounding. "I already broke things off after you made a bet and used me as collateral. What I do now is none of your business."
His expression curdled. He took a step toward me, too close. Too fast.
“You’re going to regret this,” he said, voice low and shaking with fury.
And for the first time since he showed up, I realized—I wasn’t just scared of him. I was scared for me.
"How?" I asked. I hated that my voice shook. "How does this have anything to do with you?"
“Because it does!” he bellowed, the veins in his neck straining as he threw his arms out, wild with fury. “I deserve to know if you’re running around with some brute who’s going to crush you the same damn way you crushed me!”
The words hit like a slap. My breath caught, but I didn’t let it show. He had no idea the damage he’d done long before Nikolai ever stepped into my world. Long before I even realized I was allowed to want more than fear and survival.
“I gave you everything,” Mikel snarled, his voice breaking at the edges. “And you just walked away like none of it meant anything.”
I stood frozen as he began pacing again, his footsteps pounding like a war drum across the floor—back and forth, caged heat in a small room getting smaller by the second.
“Just answer me!” he barked, spinning on his heel. “Is this real with him? Is it serious?”
The air turned suffocating. The walls pressed in. Every molecule around us buzzed with his rage and my silence.
I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. My throat had closed around the words, and anything I might’ve said would’ve made it worse—would’ve fed his fire or sparked something far more dangerous.
The quiet between us was louder than any scream.
His voice cracked as he shouted again, eyes burning. “Is it serious or not?!”
I met his gaze, my chin lifting in defiance even though I felt like I was shaking from the inside out. My silence wasn’t cowardice—it was survival. I wouldn’t give him what he wanted just because he was trying to rip it out of me.
He stared at me, chest heaving, fury radiating off him like heat off a summer sidewalk. And underneath that rage was something more unsettling—desperation. Like he wasn’t just angry… he was unraveling.
I held my ground, even as my heart screamed to run.
I leaned against the counter, trying to breathe through the tension swirling in the room. Mikel’s eyes darkened, and I felt it—like a storm gathering strength. He stepped closer, closing the distance until I could see the flecks of rage in his irises.
“Is this what you wanted?” he spat, invading my space. His voice rose, sharp as a blade. “To parade around with him? You think this is some game?”
I pressed my back against the cool surface of the wall behind me, seeking refuge from his intensity. “You’re the one who made it a game, Mikel,” I shot back, voice steady despite the panic bubbling beneath my skin. “You used me like I was a trophy. You embarrassed me—”
His face twisted with anger, and he took another step forward, towering over me like an impending avalanche. “Embarrassed you? I’m not the one who’s been all cozy with the Reaper.” He sneered.
“You never even took me out!” I fired back, every word gaining momentum. “I spent our relationship tiptoeing around your ego while you threw your weight around like you owned me! And then you cheated on me!”
The silence that followed crackled like electricity, but Mikel didn’t relent; instead, he surged closer still. The air felt thick as he invaded my space further, shoulders tense and menacing.
“Stop pretending like you’re some innocent victim,” he hissed, moving so close that I could feel his breath on my face. “You’re just another girl being used by a guy who only sees you as a prize.”
With every insult that flew from his mouth, heat rose in my chest—a simmering fury that burned hotter than fear.
“Used?” I scoffed bitterly. “I wasn’t just some tool for you to manipulate! You don’t get to rewrite our story because you're uncomfortable with how it ended.”
He grabbed my wrist suddenly—a grip so tight it made my heart race with alarm. The shift from anger to menace was instantaneous.
“Don’t walk away from this,” he said lowly, his voice barely above a whisper but laced with venomous threat. “You think you can run off to him and play house? He’ll tire of you soon enough.”
The words sliced through me as if they were meant to wound more than just my pride; they were designed to cut deep into something raw and vulnerable.
“You don’t know anything about him!” I shot back defiantly.
His expression twisted into something ugly and desperate at once. “Is that what you tell yourself? That he cares for you?”
“He does care for me,” I replied firmly, no longer backing down despite the ice prickling up my spine at how volatile Mikel had become. “It’s real.”
At those words, Mikel snapped like a taut wire fraying under pressure.
In an instant, he shoved me hard enough that I stumbled backward into a chair at the kitchen table.
My breath hitched as pain shot through me where I collided with its edge—not enough to knock me out or injure me severely but enough to terrify me.
“Don’t pretend this is real,” he growled as if daring me to stand tall again after his blow sent shockwaves through both our worlds. His face loomed inches from mine now—a distorted reflection of rage and something darker behind it all.
For a moment, fear washed over me like icy water; adrenaline surged in tandem with disbelief at what had just happened.
But there was something else there too—a fierce determination igniting in my gut that would not let him win this battle anymore.
“You’ve lost control,” I said quietly but firmly through gritted teeth as pain pulsed through where he’d shoved me but couldn’t touch my resolve.
“I’m not going anywhere without standing up for myself.”
His breathing grew ragged as he processed that defiance—the shock on his face almost amusing if it weren’t so terrifying at the same time.
But then realization settled over him—an ugly grin creeping across his lips—as if this had all been part of some twisted game from the beginning.
“You’re going to regret saying that,” he whispered before stepping back slightly but keeping his eyes locked onto mine—dark pools filled with chaos waiting for their next opportunity to drown whatever light remained inside them.
And for one fleeting second, all those memories flooded back: laughter shared in quiet moments turned sour under pressure; fleeting touches exchanged before violence stripped everything raw away until nothing remained except pain echoed in both our souls—the scars running deeper than either of us cared to admit.
The tension in the room was suffocating, a taut wire ready to snap. Mikel lifted his hand, and I braced myself, every instinct screaming to run but my feet were glued to the floor. My heart raced, but I refused to show fear.
“Do it,” I said, chin raised defiantly. “Hit me. It won’t make you right, and it definitely won’t take away the way I feel about Nikolai.”
His eyes flared with rage, a beast unleashed. The room felt like it was holding its breath, time stretching thin until he growled and swung.
I barely had time to brace myself before something hard slammed into my side. Pain shot through me, sharp and jarring like ice water thrown in my face. I gasped as I stumbled back; the chair hitting me again as I fell against it.
The air rushed out of my lungs as shock washed over me. A flash of something darkened Mikel’s features—a twisted satisfaction mixed with pure anger. But just as I gathered my wits to retaliate with words that could cut deeper than any punch, the door burst open.