002

~~Cecilia~~

“Don Petrov.”

“Don Petrov”

The audience kept cheering and clapping, oblivious of the war going on in me_ not that they had any reason to give a damn of course, but…

I clutched my stomach, feeling suddenly dizzy as bile rose in my stomach.

Oh My God, I'm gonna puke.

This is…this is so unbelievable. This is so really unbelievable, how could I?

I'm supposed to be this man's property? This same man who murdered my parents?

I'm gonna have to serve him, knowing that he's responsible for my family's massacre?

The nauseousness was suddenly replaced with anger, and my eyes burned with unshed tears.

But most importantly, why did he want me? Why would he place such a ridiculous amount of money on me? 

For you to spend that much on something, it means you need that thing, but why?

Oh My God, does he know who I am? That I'm the daughter of the same man he murdered?

Maybe he wants to make me suffer more for whatever twisted reason he has.

Maybe he wishes to see me go through hell to satisfy his thirst for power and vengeance?

Why does he want me so badly that he could spend fifty million dollars?

Cold fingers dug into my skin, interrupting my thoughts, and before I could react, I was being dragged away from the stage to the west door where my 'boss' was already waiting for me.

My heart raced as we approached, and his cold eyes ran over me, as if surveying me, before he looked away.

“There. This is your new slave. “ The thug released my arm and I brushed the area he was gripping earlier and averted my gaze to the ground.

“She's not a slave,” the man murmured, and I scoffed

Not a slave, then what am I? Your personal subject of torment?

“I mean,” the lady with him sneered, “look at her. She looks so much like one. I'm not talking about the dirt, of course, but look at the tear stained face and wounded eyes? Pathetic and so satisfying”

“Behave Darya,” The boss snapped with little heat.

“Of course. I'm just your lap cat, remember?” She said, and he rolled his eyes, his cold expression warming up a little, but the cold mask came back on once he re-directed his gaze to me.

His gaze sent chilly shivers down my spine, as if he was dissecting my mind with his eyes, and the coldness in his eyes…

My hand instinctively went to my stomach, and I clutched it, suddenly worried about my baby.

What is this going to mean for my baby?

My heart beat increased, thudding frantically against my chest, and I clutched my tummy tighter, my eyes burning with unshed tears.

“What's your name?” He asked, with a hoarse, deep voice.

I looked away and bit my lip, determined not to say a word.

“She mute? Oh, don't tell me you spent such amount of money on a mute dumbie!!" Darya said, and punctuated the last word with an exaggerated gasp.

What's her problem anyway?

My skin cringed in anger, but I ignored her.

“Didn't you hear me,” he asked a little louder this time, “what's your Damn name?”

I flinched, but refused to say a word.

The boss huffed in frustration, and took some steps back, “I will deal with you when we get home. You will learn not to disobey me or blink twice before answering each question. Get. In. The. Fucking. Car. Now.”

Deciding that it was probably not a good idea to keep upsetting him, I followed them slowly to a black Mercedes parked feet away.

Darya opened the door for me, and I hesitated before getting in, then she followed me and sat down beside me, shutting the door.

Ivan got into the driver's seat and drove off after a few more seconds. 

I didn't pay any attention outside as the car sped to what, I assumed, was my new living space. I just placed my head on my knees, muttering quiet prayers and taking in deep breaths to push down the nausea.

Just focused on not disgracing myself by puking in this very fine car, and in the process enduring the music blaring through the speakers and Darya's beautiful voice as she rapped along Cardi B's Press.

“Darya doesn't need more press! Kill 'em all, put 'em hoes to rest, walk in bulletproof vest! Please tell me who she gon check, murder scene Darya made a mess, pop up guess who bitch??!!! Pop up, guess who, bitch?!”

I do find it interesting how she adds her name to the lyrics, but that did little to suffice the fact that I was in agony.

After several minutes, I raised my head to look out the window and saw that we were pulling into… Heaven?

I gaped like a wide-eyed tourist.

This place is fucking intense!!

There was a sprawling garden by the left corner of the mansion that looked like something out of a fancy magazine, complete with perfectly trimmed hedges and flowers in different shades of colors.

The mansion looked like something carved out of a fantasy book.

The wall was adorned in a regal shape of creamy beige, with ivy vines elegantly winding their way upward.

I opened the car door and stepped out, still star gazing at the sight before me.

The floor beneath my feet a sprawling cobblestone courtyard had a mosaic of intricate patterns.

“Welcome to hell, lil princess” Darya said, spreading her arms to emphasize her words, and I frowned.

Yeah, I had no doubt that this was going to be my hell, and she has no idea just how prepared I was for it.

And that thought was enough to pull my mind out of its starstruck state.

I don't care how beautiful this place is. I should not be admiring an enemy's handiwork.

“I do love hell,” Darya said, taking my hand and dragging roughly to the entrance, “I was called the devil's concubine. But seeing how delicate you are, I wonder how you will survive.”

I'll survive just fine, thank you.

I bit my tongue to avoid lashing out at her. Even though she looked petite and beautiful, there was still these things about her that screams Danger and 'don't fuck with me.”

Maybe it's the dagger sheathed in her belt or the tattoo on her arms, or her evil, cynical smile?

Hell, or perhaps the combination of all.

She suddenly stopped at the entrance In Front of the door and turned to look at me. I heard the boss's footsteps behind me and I stood still, squaring my shoulder under her scrutinizing stare.

“Hmmm,” she muttered, “don't worry. I'm sure we will toughen you up soon enough, sugar.”

She turned, flipping her hair and banged at the door loudly, turned around to give me that smile, then faced the door with another bang.

The door opened to show another young black girl, and her smile dropped immediately the moment she saw Darya.

“Should have known it was you. How about you act more ladylike?” She grumbled, shifting to let us in.

“How about you shove that lady shit up your black ass,” Darya retorted, marching into the house.

The gorgeous lady gave me a kind smile as I walked past her. She also looks the same age as Darya, but a lot gentler. Her eyes were warm, smile kind_ and her long beautiful locs framed her long face so beautifully, I almost envied her.

She was so pretty, she could have been on the cover of Beyoncé's brown skin girl.

“Welcome home, Ivan,” she greeted, “I'm shocked your dog isn't on a leash this afternoon. And she's misbehaving.”

“Fuck you very much, Alista!” Darya shouted from a chair she was sprawled on, and the girl-Alistair chuckled, closing the door.

Once inside the house, I awkwardly entwined my fingers together on my stomach, rubbing and twisting them together, trying hard…very hard not to admire the chandeliers, and definitely not the shiny floor or the grand staircase that split in two at the middle leading to different parts of the upper floor.

I don't have to admire them, even though they looked like a fantasy.

Ivan approached me with a frown, and I took two steps back in retreat.

He stopped a few feet away, and his gaze fell to my stomach, which I could not stop clutching with my palm. Then he looked back up to my face, his cold expression slipping and slowly replaced with shock.

He looked down at my stomach again, then raised his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Fucking hell." He muttered and threw his hand up in frustration.

Did he just discover that I'm pregnant? 

Is he upset? Is he going to tell me to terminate it, so I can serve him well?

I bit back a gasp and stepped back at the thought.

“Flora! Joan!” He called, and two ladies ran into the sitting room and from their white similar uniforms, I assumed they were the maids.

“Get the room besides mine ready now. Then take the lady up to her room, take care of her thoroughly before dinner. I want to see her clean and settled in, in no time,” he ordered and the ladies nodded.

I was surprised by his words. Take care of me?

What for?

I followed the ladies wordlessly up the stairs and into a room which can only be described as a queen's suite.

They led me to a magnificent bathroom, furnished with mostly gold furniture, where I spent at least two hours soaking myself in the warm tub, washing my skin profusely and giving my hair a baby treatment.

By the time I walked out of the bathroom, I was feeling so much Alive and fresh and also more calm.

“We brought you some new outfits, a few minutes ago. I'm sure they will suit you, but you are welcome to let us know if you want to change anything.”

One of the ladies said.

Why were they treating me like some sort of special guest?

But I cannot find it in me to complain or ask out. Better enjoy it while it lasts.

I walked to the wardrobe and pulled out a short Jean and a white singlet, and changed into them while the maids excused me.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror and my heart twinged painfully as the first thing that flashed through my mind was my parents and my little brother.

I looked better than I did hours ago. Good nurturing can do that.

My curly brown hair bounced off my shoulders, all untangled and my face, which mum had always called a baby face, lacked the patches of dirt on it from earlier.

I would have loved to lock myself inside the room, but the maids came in again and demanded that I come downstairs with them for dinner.

In the dining hall, the boss was sitting on a chair with his phone in his hand, as I sat down far from him, my stomach growling from the aroma of food coming from the kitchen.

Pride demanded that I throw a tantrum and reject the food, but I was thinking for two people now, and I need to keep my baby healthy. 

Even if it means having to swallow my ride first.

The lady from earlier, Alista came in with a tray of food and placed them before me. And I didn't hesitate before digging in hungrily, not caring what they would think.

“You are yet to tell me your name,” the boss requested.

I cleared my throat, deciding not to rebel now for my safety, “my name is…”

A loud slam of a door interrupted me and I jerked. The boss just raised his brow, not fazed as the thuds of footsteps approached us.

“Are you out of your mind, Ivan?”