82. Running Away

Alina's Pov

I sprinted down the pristine hallway, my footsteps echoing against the marble floors of the otherwise silent office building. The modern glass walls and sleek metal fixtures, so sterile and orderly, contrasted starkly with the chaos roiling inside me. My heart pounded not just from exertion but from the memory of that kiss—Theodore's lips on mine, hot and demanding, pushing me toward a pleasure I couldn't afford. Not from him.

"Alina, wait!" His voice, deep and insistent, reverberated through the empty space, slicing through the stillness. I didn't dare look back. I couldn't face him, not after what had almost happened. My cheeks burned with the memory, my body still humming with the remnants of our encounter.

I veered around a corner, the conference rooms blurring in my peripheral vision. The office's beauty, its floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing a panoramic city view, felt like a cruel mockery. It had seen everything—the way his gaze softened before he kissed me,