Pandora
I wanted to run.
The officers were speaking to a woman, showing a photo on a phone. She shook her head and pointed down the corridor. They thanked her and moved on.
Neo stepped in front of me, shielding me. To protect me or to hold me in place? He pressed me against the wall. "If they catch us, I’ll tell them you’re my wife. And then I’ll prove it.” His hand settled at my hip. "Would you like that? Me kissing you in front of them?”
"Stop it.” My voice came out unsteady. "Just tell me what we do now.”
"We blend in. Keep moving.”
The duty-free area swallowed us between perfume displays and whiskey shelves, and I felt like a target in every mirrored surface.
I tried to breathe, but the air seemed to thicken around me.
A radio crackled, then voices, close. I should have gone to them, asked for help, but my feet wouldn’t obey.
I stayed with Neo. For some absurd reason I felt safer with him than with the police.
As we changed direction, I gripped Neo’s arm. He stayed calm.
"They’re coming back,” I whispered.
"I know.”
Footsteps between the displays. Then I saw them . . . three officers. One gestured toward a checkpoint, another spoke into his radio, and the third was scanning faces. His gaze moved over the crowd, lingering a fraction too long on certain people.
"They’ve seen us,” I whispered.
Neo barely nodded. "Ready?”
"For what?”
"For anything.” We pushed into a narrow passage between two shops. Footsteps. Voices. I froze. Damn. They were coming directly toward us. There was nowhere to go. Was it over before it had even begun? I wasn’t ready to let go. My chest tightened. Nausea rose in me.
A radio crackled loudly. A voice: "All units—suspect sighted at the station. Redirect immediately.”
The officers turned away, their voices fading.
I stared at Neo. His eyes flickered with the electrical glow I recognized. "That was you,” I whispered.
He gave a short nod. "Of course it was me. I protect what belongs to me.”
I let out a breath. "That was . . .”
"It’s over,” he said.
***
On the plane, the world narrowed to a single aisle leading in one direction. I took the window seat. It was my last connection to the outside. Neo sat beside me. The seat next to us was empty.
"Did you arrange that too?” I whispered.
His smile was answer enough.
I buckled my seat belt. The plane began to move, then lifted off. I felt the ground disappear beneath us, and with it my last chance to escape.
"How long?” I murmured.
"Three and a half hours. Then we connect.” His voice stayed level. "Three and a half hours in which you belong to me.” Then he raised the armrest between us. His upper arm pressed against mine.
"What are you doing?” I whispered.
"Marking my territory,” he murmured. "Everyone on this plane should know you’re mine.” His warmth moved through my sweater and burned itself into my skin.
"Neo . . .”
"Shh.” He pressed his mouth to mine, his tongue pushing inside.
I burned immediately. My hands gripped the armrests and my breathing came faster.
He placed his hand on my thigh. I gasped, wanting it to move higher, wanting him to touch me where I was aching for him.
Then he pulled away. My chest rose and fell quickly.
He simply looked at me, satisfied with the effect he had on me.
"I could drag you to the bathroom. No one would stop me.” His voice was dark. "But I won’t.”
I let out a breath. My hands tightened around the armrests. "Why not?” Damn it. Why did I sound so desperate? I was pathetic.
"I’m waiting until I can have you in our room tonight.” He leaned back, a cruel smile on his lips. "Where no one will hear you scream. And you have to sit here until then, wanting. Every. Single. Second.”
My thighs pressed together. "That’s sadistic.”
"Yes.” He looked at me the way a scientist looks at an experiment. "Your pulse is already at ninety-five. In an hour it will be at one hundred ten. In two hours you’ll be begging.”
"Never.”
"We’ll see.” His hand covered mine and pressed down. "Three and a half more hours on this plane. Then the connection. Then the hotel. Twelve hours, Pandora.”
I stared at him. Trapped. Burning. Out of my mind with need.
***
The connecting flight passed in taut silence. Neo didn’t touch me again, but his gaze burned on my skin. When we finally landed, my hands were trembling.
"To the car,” he said.
The drive along dusty roads stretched endlessly.
Eventually, a town appeared. The asphalt looked worn and cracked at the edges.
The buildings were almost identical, some with balconies, others with small awnings.
The facades carried the marks of weather.
At a street corner, a supermarket. Letters on signs I couldn’t read.
The windows were papered with old, torn posters.
A man sat on a stool outside the entrance, smoking.
Dreva. I didn’t know if that was the name of the district or the town. I only knew it was on the rusted and overgrown sign by the road.
Neo sat silent behind the wheel, scanning the street. He had bought the car. It was an old banger, rusted and barely holding together. Booking a driver would have been too risky.
We parked outside a concrete block. Five floors, just a number beside the entrance, smudged and redrawn in chalk. Neo opened the door and took my bag. I got out and stretched my legs. Metal and ash hung in the air. The memory of something that had once burned here.
At the door, Neo entered a code without hesitating.
A hum, then the click of the lock. Inside, it smelled of damp.
The elevator wasn’t working, so we took the stairs.
Concrete steps with chipped edges. I felt the cold through my soles.
Neo went ahead. Third floor. Left side. He opened the apartment door.
Pale twilight fell through a window onto the floor. I stepped inside.
"This is it,” Neo said, and closed the door with a short push.
The rooms were sparsely furnished. I sat on the bed and felt the rough material under my fingers. He set the bag down, but his movements were too controlled, scanning every inch of the apartment.
I took off my shoes, one then the other, slowly. My body was moving on autopilot. Neo moved toward me, and the air changed when he came near. I raised my eyes. My body responded with warmth, caught between the urge to run and something far darker.
"Now you’re mine,” he whispered. His hand closed around my throat. "I’ve waited twelve hours.”
My pulse hammered against his fingers. "Neo . . .”
"Did you think I’d forgotten?” He pressed lightly. "I never forget. Every second on that plane, every minute in the car, I was planning what I’d do to you.” His other hand moved under my shirt. "And now we’re finally alone.” He paused. "No one will hear you.”
My whole body tightened. I had also been waiting twelve hours, even if I wouldn’t admit it to myself.
My stomach tightened in rhythm with my racing heartbeat.
His hand at my throat should have sent me into panic.
Instead, I pressed my thighs together, searching for friction that might ease the burning.
What was wrong with me? But the question faded under the wave of want that rolled over me. My nipples hardened, pressing against the fabric of my bra. "Please,” I whispered, not knowing what I was asking for.
"First you shower. I want you clean. Fresh. Ready for what comes next.”
"Now?” My voice came out hoarse. After all the tension, the buildup, the burning want . . . he was sending me to shower? Oh . . . This was part of his game. He wanted to make me wait longer.
"Now.” He stepped back and released me. The sudden absence of his hands was almost painful. "And, Pandora . . .” His gaze drilled into me. "Leave the door open.”
He wanted to watch. Of course he did. My legs trembled as I stood. "I could say no,” I whispered, even though we both knew I wouldn’t.
"You could.” He stood. "But you want to please me. You want to be ready for me. Clean. As I commanded.”
Damn him. He was right. I walked to the bathroom on unsteady legs.
The tiles were cold under my feet. I turned on the water.
It took forever to warm up. My hands were shaking as I undressed.
I knew he was watching, felt his gaze like a physical touch.
The waiting, the preparation, it was just another form of torture.
And my body only wanted him more because of it.
I let the water run over me and rinsed away the strain of the past few days. I stayed under the water until my skin turned red from the heat.
"Get dressed,” he said, moving toward the door. "I’ll get something to drink from the car.”
I stood there naked and dripping. My bag was still in the other room, but his T-shirt was draped over the chair. On impulse I reached for it. It smelled of him, electrical and dangerous. When I pulled it on it reached mid-thigh.
I went to the kitchen and opened the drawers. I didn’t know what I was looking for. Tea to calm my nerves? Something to eat for the hunger that had nothing to do with food?
"Pandora.” His voice rumbled low in his chest. I startled. He was standing in the doorway. His eyes moved over my body. "You’re wearing my T-shirt,” he said through gritted teeth.