“Brat, Brat, Brat. How is family life treating you? It's been what? Two, three months since we last saw each other?” Igor says with a wide smile on his face as he steps closer to me. Ivanov gets up from his position on my couch and steps in between Igor and my desk. Igor raises his hands up in mock surrender as he takes a step back. Another person walks into my office the moment Igor whistles loudly. “What the hell is this?” I ask as I squeeze the life out of my pen. “Just some help, brother. Since you are having problems impregnating your wife, I was thinking of the perfect gift I could get for you, and of course, this brilliant idea came into my mind. An innocent little flower who will take your seed like a pro and give you heirs in no time. And what's more, she's not as rigid as your bitch of a wife.” Igor says, waving his hands around in demonstration. I look at the wolfing smile on Igor's face and the tentative one on the girl's face and I can't help but burst out laughing.
“The sooner you do as I say, the sooner you leave this room.” Dimitri says in a strong tone, his Adam's apple moving in tandem with his words. “And why would I trust you? What if you plan on leaving me here for the rest of my life?” I ask in an annoyed tone. “You don't have to trust me, malyshka, you just have to obey me.” Dimitri says, sitting on the stool he brought along with him. I flush a beetroot red when my stomach makes a growling sound betraying its emptiness. “I'm not hungry.” I say eyeing the bloodstains on his shirt. “I didn't ask if you were. Unfortunately for me and fortunately for you, I need you alive for the plans I have for you. I cannot have you die of starvation.” Dimitri says sighing like it's a truly disappointing situation. Yeah right. If anyone should be complaining, it should be me who has been left naked for I don't know how many days. Although, after Dimitri left me the last time, I noticed that the room became warmer, I guess he ordered his men to turn
“Thank you very much, I'm done.” I say to the man's turned back as I take out my hair from under the hood of the sweater he brought for me. “You can call me, Ivanov.” The man says, turning back to me. “I'm not sure your Pakhan would like that. Was he the one who told you to get them for me?” I ask drily as I look around the room and flex my wrists, more than happy to be free even if it's just for a few minutes. “No, he wasn't.” Ivanov says with an expression on his face similar to that of his brother, the Pakhan. I thought Dimitri sent his brother to get some clothes as a form of begging for my forgiveness for all he has done to me up to this point but yet again, I'm wrong. “Why are you helping me? What is your motive?” I ask with narrowed eyes after some minutes. “No motive, Malen'kiy tsvetok.” Little flower. Ivanov says in a soft tone while his eyes rove over my red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked face. “There is always a motive. No man in your line of work will do something so
“Who is she?” Giana asks finally, her anger matching mine.“Someone you would never be.” I say in a cold tone, not in the least bit concerned of aggravating her. Giana grips her knife tighter in her fists as though she is contemplating using it on me. I stare at her, daring her to try it. Whatever peace existed between the Petrovs and the Gusefs was already on thin ice, any insolent action from her would ruin all that her family had fought to protect, and she knew it perfectly well. “I don't care who you keep as a side piece, Dimitri, as long as you fulfil your responsibility to me as my husband.” Giana says in a cold tone, finally getting a rein on her anger. “But you see Giana, I have no responsibility to you.” I say in a calm tone as I sit down on the chair beside hers.I stay quiet for some minutes, allowing my last statement to sink in. I watch the wheels turn in her head, probably wondering where I'm heading with this conversation. “That's bullsh—” Giana starts to say but I
I wipe the fog covering the window and recoil in anger and shame when I get a good look at my reflection. I had dark circles around my eyes, and my cheeks looked sunken, not that they were ever puffy or filled. I run my fingers over my bare neck and imagine what it would look like with a chain around it. My breathing picks up and I claw at my neck as I imagine not being able to breathe from the tightness of the imaginary chain. I punch the glass, not even having the energy to wince in pain when the glass shards pierce into my knuckles. Uh oh. Dimitri was going to be so pissed. I doubt he wants me hurt. I feel the blood trickle down my palms and I watch in fascination. I pick up one of the broken shards that had fallen in the white spotless sink and I stare at it for a long moment. The blood drips from my hand and makes a magnificent hue on the spotless sink. I lift the shards to my left wrist, and the thought of cutting through the fragile nerve and skin has never been so appeali
Anya's POV I swat away the hand gripping my neck although carefully but still firmly, but the hand refuses to let go. My breathing becomes shorter and shorter until I'm gasping due to lack of air. What is going on? Who is choking the life out of me? “Calm down. Malyshka. You can breathe. You are okay.” Dimitri says calmly but steadily, slowly rousing me from my drug-induced sleep. “What— is go—oing on? I can't breathe.” I barely manage to say in between gasps. “You can breathe, Malyshka. The collar is not tight.” Dimitri says, trying to pull me out of my mind. My hand flies to the intricate design of the collar wrapped snugly against my throat, and I try pulling it off me but it doesn't budge. “It won't open, Malyshka. It's biometrically operated.” Dimitri says in a quiet cold voice. I feel around the collar and my hand lands in what seems to be a little electronic lock, just under the base of my hair.“There's no need for the collar, Dimitri. I promise to do all that you say.”
“Boris Sidorov.” I say coldly as I step into my office. Ivanov gives me a confused look, probably wondering when I had become friends with a scoundrel of this nature. “Mr Gusef! Priyatno poznakomit'sya. YA znayu, naskol'ko ty deystvitel'no zanyat.” It's a pleasure meeting you. I know how busy you can truly be. Boris says with a nervous chuckle as he shifts from one foot to the other. I give him a sharp look, not welcoming him or inviting him to sit with me. I settle down on the double-piece couch the one closest to Ivanov. “Kakiye problemy u vas yest' ?” What problems do you have? I ask him, in an emotionless voice. Ivanov places his hands on Boris's shoulders and shakes his head slightly when Boris tries to sit on the chair opposite me. You do not sit in front of the Pakhan unless you are invited to. “Ummmm—— my wife is missing.” Boris says, his eyes flicking between the bulk that is Ivanov me. I knew Boris Sidorov very well, although unfortunately so. He was Maksim Fedorov's
Dimitri's POV “What are you doing here, Malyshka?” I ask in a soft tone I can barely recognise myself.Anya continues to stare blankly ahead of her, not responding to my question. She was dressed in a flimsy nightwear and some socks I had put on her, before I left her alone in the bedroom. I sigh heavily as I bend down and heft her into my arms. I take notice of the fact that she was very light in my arms. Easily half the weight I lift every day to stay fit. “I would kill your father again if I ever got the chance.” I say quietly to her. I wish I could apologise for what happened earlier, but I can't. It had to happen. I doubt she would have agreed to wear the collar otherwise. “Did he suffer?” She asks after some time, interrupting the tense silence as we make our back to her bedroom. “Yes, he did, Malyshka. That I can assure you of.” I respond, hesitant to give her any gory details that might further upset her. “I want details.” Anya says, shocking me immensely. I never would