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DANGEROUS HUSBANDS, BROKEN WIFES
DANGEROUS HUSBANDS, BROKEN WIFES
Author: Diti Koshy

Season 1: Broken Vows | Chapter 1

Author: Diti Koshy
last update Last Updated: 2024-02-19 15:11:26

(Flashback)

“Loyalty is everything in this business, Ana,” Ivan growled, his voice low and dangerous. “And if you’re not loyal, you know what happens.”

Anastasia’s eyes widened as she heard the threat in his words. She knew all too well the consequences of betraying Ivan and his criminal organization. “I’ve been loyal, Ivan,” she pleaded, her heart pounding in her chest. “I swear it.”

Ivan’s expression remained hard as he advanced towards her, his hand reaching out to grip her arm with bruising force. “Don’t lie to me, Ana,” he snarled, his breath hot against her face. “You know what will happen if I find out you’re hiding something from me.”

(Flashback Ends)

* * *

[ANASTASIA]

I wake up to the blaring sound of my alarm, a sudden jolt that sends my heart racing. The stillness of my small, dimly lit bedroom is shattered by the noise, and I can’t help but feel a surge of anxiety coursing through my veins. My eyes dart around the room, scanning the shadows for any signs of danger. Even after five long years of hiding, I still can’t shake the constant fear that my cruel husband will somehow find us.

I take a deep breath and try to calm myself, but the memories flood back, vivid and painful. I can almost feel his cold, cruel eyes on me, his rough hands on my body. If he finds us again, I know he will stop at nothing to destroy me, to break me down until there is nothing left.

That is why I am always on the move, never staying in one place for more than three months at a time. It is also why I have to homeschool my kids, keeping them close and safe from the outside world.

With cautious steps, I tiptoe into the room where my children are fast asleep. The wooden floorboards creak slightly as I move closer to their beds, and I hold my breath, not wanting to wake them up.

Ivan Jr. is almost seven years old now, and his long limbs are sprawled out over the bed. Tatiana, my little girl, is tucked in close to her brother, her tiny hand clutching his shirt. I can’t help but smile at the sight of them, so peaceful and innocent.

As I watch them sleep, a rush of emotions wash over me.

Ivan Jr. and Tatiana are my everything, my reason for living. They have never once complained about the constant moving and the uncertainty that comes with our life on the run. They are content with whatever little we have, and that makes me feel both grateful and guilty.

Tatiana is always a bundle of energy, even in her sleep. I can almost feel her little body twitching with excitement. Ivan Jr., on the other hand, is the picture of serenity, his face relaxed and peaceful. He always has a book in his hand, even when he sleeps, and he often tells Tatiana to do the same. They are the perfect balance to each other, and I feel a surge of pride and love for them both.

The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm, golden hue on their faces, highlighting their innocent features. The room is filled with the quiet hum of the fan, the only sound breaking the stillness of the night.

I let out a deep breath, trying to ease the tension that has settled in my shoulders. For a moment, I allow myself to forget the danger that lurks outside and the constant fear that grips my heart. I simply savor the peaceful moment of being with my children, feeling their presence fill me with a sense of contentment that is hard to describe.

I know this moment won’t last forever, that the harsh reality of our situation will eventually come crashing back. But for now, I hold onto it tightly, refusing to let go of the feeling of contentment that it brings me. It is the one thing that gives me the strength to continue on this difficult journey.

Leaving their room, I pad softly across the cool tile floor of the hallway, feeling the slight chill against my bare feet. As I enter the warm and inviting kitchen, the scent of brewed coffee and cinnamon fills my nostrils.

I fill the kettle with water and place it on the stove, listening as the flames underneath begin to crackle and dance. With a comforting routine, I reach for my phone and dial Nikolai’s number, my fingers tracing the familiar pattern on the screen. After a few rings, he answers, his voice crackling through the speaker.

“This better be important.” Nikolai’s groan on the other end of the phone echoes in my ear, making me wince. I know he’s probably annoyed with me for calling him so early, but I don’t have any other choice. The fear of being caught by my husband always lingers in the back of my mind, and I need to make sure that Nikolai has found us a safe place to stay.

“I don’t have time for your grumpiness, Nik, so you better tell me if you found the new place,” I say, trying to push down the panic that threatens to rise in my chest.

Nikolai takes a deep breath before he replies. “Yes. Yes, I did. I’ve found a perfect place for you and the kids. It’s a small, cozy cottage nestled on the outskirts of the city. The cottage is surrounded by dense woods, providing plenty of cover and privacy. Just as you asked.”

My heart swells with a mixture of relief and trepidation. Relief that we might finally have a safe haven, but trepidation that it might be too good to be true.

“When can we move in?” I ask, trying to keep my voice level and calm despite the urgency I feel.

“Tomorrow morning,” he says. “I’ll have everything arranged for you by then.”

I breathe out a sigh of relief, grateful for his help. “I can’t express how much this means to me and my children, Nik. Thank you.

Nikolai’s response is tinged with worry. “Don’t mention it. But please be careful, Ana. I have a terrible feeling these days. Something tells me Ivan’s getting closer and closer to finding you.”

The sound of Ivan’s name makes my stomach twist with fear. “I know,” I reply, my voice low. “That’s why I need to move. This place is too exposed. Too my eyes and ears.”

“I understand,” Nikolai says. “Just be careful, my friend. And don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.”

“I won’t,” I promise before hanging up.

I turn off the stove and walk back to the bedroom and approach Ivan Jr.’s sleeping form. With a gentle touch, I shake his shoulder, watching as he slowly stirs from his slumber, his eyes fluttering open.

I bring a finger to my lips, urging him to stay quiet. “It’s time to wake up, my love. We need to get ready to leave,” I whisper softly, trying to keep my voice steady despite the knot of fear in my stomach.

I see Ivan Jr. nodding sleepily, so I tiptoe to the other side of the bed, where Tatiana is clinging to her brother’s shirt. Her face is peaceful, and I don’t want to disturb her, but we have to hurry. So, I caress her hair, calling her name in a gentle voice.

“Tatiana. Wake up, baby. We need to get ready to go.”

She stirs, slowly opening her eyes, and greets me with a sleepy grin. “Morning, Momma,” she mumbles, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

“Good morning, my love,” I reply, feeling a pang of guilt for disrupting their peaceful lives yet again. But it’s the only way to ensure their safety. We have to keep moving, stay ahead of Ivan and his goons.

“Time to get dressed and pack up, kiddos,” I say, forcing a cheerful tone. “It’s time for another adventure.”

Comments (1)
goodnovel comment avatar
mewanderer88
Ivan Jr is seven, how old are Tatiana and Anastasia?
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