Divorcing His Royal Highness (English-R18)

Chapter 4

TAYLOR

My heart raced as I made a dash towards the airport exit. Anxiety had me firmly in its grip, like a vice tightening around my chest. My senses were on high alert, and every fibre of my being was acutely aware of the potential danger that lurked around me. The exit couldn't come soon enough, and I couldn't help but glance over my shoulder, half-expecting to see Vladimir's security team hot on my trail.

Fortunately, a row of taxis awaited just outside the exit. Without a second thought, I practically leapt into the first one in line. The relief that washed over me when the driver closed the door and started the engine was overwhelming. I finally allowed myself to breathe, my chest rising and falling with the rhythm of my heartbeat. I had managed to elude them, at least for now.

Relief washed over me, and I exhaled, releasing the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. I glanced out the taxi's window, watching the airport shrink in the distance. I'd done it. I'd managed to escape the clutches of Vladimir, at least for the moment.

"To the Sienna Port, please," I instructed the driver, trying to keep my voice steady. The Sienna Port was my destination, my lifeline out of the city. It was the only place I could think of where I might find some semblance of safety. There, I could potentially slip away from Vladimir's relentless pursuit.

As the taxi cruised away from the airport, my anxiety began to ebb, gradually replaced by a cautious optimism. I kept my eyes peeled for any signs of pursuit, but the initial panic was giving way to a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, I could pull this off.

However, my optimism crumbled when I realized that the taxi was taking an unfamiliar route to the port. I knew the way well, having visited the Sienna Port multiple times to collect deliveries for my shop. My frown deepened, and unease settled in the pit of my stomach.

"Sir, I think you missed your turn. This isn't the right way to the port," I ventured, my voice wavering with concern. But the driver remained impassive, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. It was as if my words were falling on deaf ears.

"Sir?" I tried once more, thinking that perhaps he hadn't heard me the first time. Yet, he continued driving without acknowledging my inquiries. My anxiety began to bubble up into something more potent—a gnawing fear.

"Excuse me, sir," I persisted, my voice taking on a sharper edge. "But I believe we're headed in the wrong direction. Can you please stop the car?" The driver's unwavering silence was unsettling, to say the least. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly amiss.

As I weighed my options, the taxi continued down the unfamiliar route. My escape plan was unravelling right before my eyes. I couldn't afford to wait and see where this driver was taking me; the danger was palpable. With a surge of determination, I reached for the door handle, preparing to make my exit from the taxi. If I had to continue my escape on foot, then so be it. I couldn't allow myself to be led into an unknown trap. My hand tightened around the door handle as I steeled myself for what might come next.

The seconds ticked by like an eternity, my heart pounding loudly in my ears as I grappled with the locked door. Panic was an unwelcome visitor, clawing at the edges of my mind as I desperately tried to comprehend the situation. Why was this happening? Where was this driver taking me? Endless questions swirled in my head, each one more frantic than the last.

Frustration and fear bubbled up inside me as I wrestled with the unyielding door handle. It was as if I was trapped in a nightmare, one from which there was no waking. I felt helpless, vulnerable, and a pawn in a game I didn't understand.

The idea of seizing the steering wheel crossed my mind, a desperate attempt to regain control of the situation. I could force the driver to stop the car, demand answers, and make my escape. But before I could summon the courage to act, a peculiar sight stole my attention.

The taxi came to an abrupt halt in the middle of an empty lot. I peered out the window, my eyes widening as I took in the massive plane before me. It was parked in an empty lot, right next to the airport. My confusion deepened. We hadn't left the airport at all; we had merely taken a circuitous route to where danger is.

Fury surged within me as the car's engine sputtered to silence. My hands trembled with a mixture of rage and fear. I had been deceived and manoeuvred into a trap I couldn't escape. The knowledge that Vladimir was likely orchestrating this unfolded before me like a grim revelation.

With bated breath, I watched as the taxi's door unlocked, granting me the opportunity to step out. My legs felt unsteady as I emerged from the vehicle, my eyes narrowing at the figure waiting beside the plane. There he stood, Vladimir, as regal and imposing as ever, his presence commanding the space around him.

He knew I might try to escape. His calm face showed he understood the complicated situation. My feelings were in chaos, but he remained composed.

I approached him, my steps deliberate, a mix of resignation and defiance. The gravity of our situation hung between us, an unspoken acknowledgement of the forces at play.

"You didn't really think it would be that easy, did you?" Vladimir's voice was laced with a hint of amusement, as though he found my escape attempt somewhat endearing.

My jaw clenched, my frustration simmering beneath the surface. "I had to try," I replied, my tone edged with a stubborn resolve.

Vladimir regarded me with a penetrating gaze, his eyes betraying a complexity I couldn't decipher. "I never thought you had it in you. It seems like freedom suits you pretty well. What a surprising day it has been, isn't it?" he mused, as if revisiting memories long buried.

The realization hit me like a blow. Our history, our shared past, it was all woven into this moment, into the choices we were making now. It was a tangled tapestry of love and betrayal, of promises and broken trust.

"Why?" I finally asked, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and anguish. "Why drag me back into this, Vladimir? What do you want from me?"

He sighed, his gaze never leaving mine. "It's not that simple, Taylor," he replied, a trace of weariness in his voice. "There are forces at play here, ones that neither of us fully understands. My position as king is precarious, and there are those who seek to exploit it. You... you are a pawn in their game, and I couldn't let you wander into danger."

The weight of his words settled over me like a shroud. Vladimir's world was a labyrinth of political intrigue and power struggles, a place where trust was a scarce commodity. In the midst of it all, I had unwittingly become a piece in a larger puzzle, a pawn in a game that threatened to consume us both.

"I still don't understand what does it has to do with me. I'm not your wife anymore. I have no bearing in this little game you're playing. I'm not going back, Vladimir," I firmly replied.

As the reality of our situation hung heavy in the air, I couldn't help but wonder if there was any escape from the entanglement that bound us. The days that followed would hold more questions than answers, more challenges than resolutions. Vladimir and I stood at a precipice, facing a future riddled with uncertainty.

"I don't think you have a choice, Taylor," he said before grabbing my arm and pulling me inside the plane.

As we boarded the plane, I couldn't help but wonder if we were embarking on a journey of redemption or reckoning. One thing was certain: the choices we made in the days to come would define the path we walked, a path fraught with danger, desire, and an undeniable connection that refused to be severed.

My heart raced as we stepped onto the plane. I attempted to break free from his grip, squirming my arm, but it was like trying to move a mountain. Vladimir remained resolute, guiding me toward the seats. At first, I thought he might allow me to sit on my own, but to my astonishment, he settled into a chair and forcefully tugged me down until I ended up sprawled across his lap.

I couldn't contain my shock. "What the hell are you doing?" I yelled, my voice laden with surprise and indignation. My eyes widened in disbelief as, instead of providing an explanation, he promptly coiled his arm around my waist, securing me firmly.

I couldn't believe the audacity of his actions. "Are you kidding me? Release me this instant!" I demanded, my frustration and anger boiling over.

He responded with a low, contemplative hum, as if he were pondering his next move. "You know," he began, a sly grin spreading across his face, "I quite like having you right here. Why don't you relax and enjoy the journey?" His smirk was infuriating, as if he found amusement in my predicament.

I struggled against his hold, attempting to rise from his lap. The proximity was unnerving, and I refused to accept this bizarre turn of events. "This is absolutely unacceptable!" I snapped, my voice quivering with anger. "You can't just manhandle me like this."

His grip tightened, his fingers pressing into my waist. "I can do a lot of things, Taylor," he murmured, his voice low and dangerously suggestive. "And right now, I want you to stay put."

My frustration reached its peak. "You're insane if you think I'll just sit here quietly," I retorted, my gaze locked with his, a silent battle of wills.

He leaned closer, his face mere inches from mine. "I know you, Taylor," he whispered, his breath warm against my skin. "You're not much of a fighter. So, it's better to yield."

I couldn't believe his audacity. "I'll never yield to you," I hissed, my determination unwavering.

His eyes held a glint of amusement, as if he enjoyed the challenge. "We'll see about that," he replied cryptically, a subtle promise in his words.

The tension between us was palpable as the plane taxied down the runway, preparing for takeoff. I knew I couldn't remain in this compromising position for the entire flight. I needed a plan, an escape from this bizarre and infuriating situation.

As the plane ascended, I attempted to shift my weight, testing the strength of Vladimir's grip. It was firm, unyielding. He was like a fortress, and my attempts to break free only seemed to amuse him.

Determined not to give in to his absurd demands, I continued my struggle. It was a battle of wills, a silent war waged in the confined space of the aircraft. I was resolute in my refusal to yield to allow him to dictate my actions.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly as we soared through the skies, locked in this absurd standoff. The minutes turned into hours, and I grew weary of the ceaseless tension between us.

At long last, Vladimir's hold began to loosen. He released his grip, allowing me to sit up, though he remained close, his presence a constant reminder of his control.

I glared at him, my anger still smouldering beneath the surface. "This changes nothing," I declared, my voice sharp. "I won't be a pawn in your games."

He met my gaze, his eyes unreadable. "We'll see, Taylor," he replied enigmatically, as if he knew something I didn't.

With our standoff temporarily resolved, I settled into my own seat, maintaining a wary distance from Vladimir. The journey ahead was fraught with uncertainty, and I couldn't predict what lay in store.

As the hours passed, I couldn't help but reflect on the absurdity of our situation. How had my life taken such a bewildering turn? Vladimir's reappearance had thrust me into a world of intrigue and power struggles, and I was determined to navigate it on my own terms.

The plane continued its course, carrying us towards the place that once called home. Vladimir remained an enigma, his motives shrouded in mystery. But one thing was clear: I would not be a passive player in his dangerous game.

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