𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔇𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫'𝔰 𝔇𝔬𝔩𝔩

Part 17

"Knowing too much about other people puts you in their power, they have a claim on you, you are forced to understand their reasons for doing things and then you are weakened."

- Margaret Atwood

"Fyodor, you can't just stand there staring at me, you have to dance too." She smiled as she took his hands and began to move them. When he didn't reciprocate her moves, she moved his forearms to rest on her shoulders so she could move freely once again. She began to put her hips into her moves even more so that he could watch her.

Fyodor's face grew red, and not from the alcohol, but from her touch and seduction. She had no idea what she was truly doing to him. It's not like he could fuck her in this very moment, after all. She was heavily intoxicated and unable to make rational decisions.

"Kate, I think you should be returning to the booth now. You're still recovering after all." Fyodor took her hand, gently pulling her away from the crowded dance floor.

"No, I can't even feel it anymore!" She pulled her hand away roughly with a pout.

"Kate, please. It's important you continue to rest. Speaking of, you haven't taken your medicine today, have you?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"No, you have it. You packed it away before I even had the chance to grab it myself, but you already knew that." She crossed her arms to mirror him.

"How did you...?" He asked, completely surprised by her answer. How did she know he did that? He was alone and he made sure of that. Then again, what he failed to remember was that her deduction skills were marvellous. Their very first encounter was proof of that.

"You're not the only smart person in the room at all times." She tilted her chin to the side in a stuck up way. Fyodor's nose scrunched up in disgust at her attitude. For the first time ever since he met her, she showed him that she too could act stuck up. This was the most he had ever seen her react. Although her face showed little emotion, her body language and eyes did all the talking for her.

"Really? You want to act like this then be my guest! Don't cry to me when you are sick again or that daddy and mommy didn't love you. You've always been alone and unloved, haven't you? Why act this way to the one person who showed you they actually care?" He roughly seized her shoulders. She gasped at his aggressive touch. His words were laced with venom, he wanted to hurt her.

"Because I can't keep you around anymore! My father..." Her voice broke at the end of her words. Her eyes were filled with sorrow and her cheeks were flushed from alcohol.

"Come on, we will return to the booth." Fyodor's rage instantly subsided at the sight of her face. With much more gentleness than before, he pulled her back to the booth. It only worked because she gave no fight and allowed herself to be taken away.

Fyodor left momentarily and she was forced to stay with her own thoughts. He was right about everything. She was pushing him away after all that he had done for her, and that was unfair of her to do. How could she just treat him so horribly this entire night after all he's done for her? He was a good host in his country and now that they were in hers, she was terrible. Her behaviour was unacceptable and she would have to make it up to him as well as apologise. This time alone allowed her to sober up enough to return to her previous state of mind.

When Fyodor returned, he had a glass of water for her. He handed it over and she didn't question what it was, she simply drank it. She knew he had her best interests in mind, no matter what this drink was.

"Fyodor, please allow me to apologise for my actions this entire night. They have been completely shameful upon my name as well as my family. I've been a horrible host and I have treated you unfairly. Please accept my humblest apologies." She bowed her head deeply as she allowed herself to accept her failure.