Chapter three

IRENA'S POV

It has been a period of three hours since I have been left alone within the study of Anatol. Throughout this duration, I pondered Saint incessantly. The sensation of his hands upon me still resonated within me, causing my stomach to convulse with feelings of abhorrence.

Thus far, he has not acted malevolently towards me, aside from physically obstructing my breathing. The sole contemplation of whether he will prove to be a superior or inferior individual in comparison to Viktor has left me feeling agitated and uneasy.

For a considerable period, I have harbored an intense desire for liberation. My ultimate objective is to flee from my current existence and commence a fresh life far away from my current abode, assuming an unfamiliar identity, residing in a modest abode, and securing a respectable occupation.

In a stroke of luck, I may be able to transform my reverie into a reality by becoming a local pianist. This aspiration represents my heartfelt desire to lead a fulfilling life, and I am prepared to relinquish anything to attain it. Living with the fear of persecution or demise every day is unbearable, and I yearn for the opportunity to escape this plight. Regrettably, I find myself confined in a chamber, situated in close proximity to perilous individuals, and forced to surrender my liberty to malevolent forces.

I stood up from the couch and slowly proceeded towards the bookshelves, which exhibited an impressive collection of ancient classical literature. My uncle Anatol is fervently passionate about reading, though he has never elucidated his reasons. Nevertheless, I know it brings him immense inner tranquility.

As my fingers delicately touched upon each book, I stopped upon coming across an intriguingly thick volume whose spine bore intricate patterns of gold and silver tulips.

However, before I could delve deeper into my thoughts, the door gently creaked open, and I swiftly turned my gaze towards it.

There, entering the room, was my uncle Anatol, who firmly shut the door behind him. I silently observed his every movement, standing completely still.

"You've embarrassed us today Irena." he asserted as he leisurely walked towards his mini bar. Anatol then poured himself some brandy, consumed it all in one gulp, and proceeded to refill his glass with the burnt orange liquid. As he turned to face me, I was met with his cold stare.

In that moment, I quietly prayed to Heavenly Father and asked for protection. I watched anxiously as Anatol approached me with measured steps, causing me to take a couple of steps back until my back finally hit the shelf.

Anatol halted his movement a few feet from my location. He maintained an unbroken gaze upon my person, while simultaneously raising his glass to take a sip. His left hand remained concealed in his pocket.

"It is my belief that Greg ought to be the one who engages you in this discussion. This responsibility should not fall on my shoulders," he remarked. His tone was fraught with bitterness and was accompanied by a noticeable sneer. This caused me to experience a degree of unease.

"Perhaps you could enlighten me on what prompted your recent ill-mannered behavior. The conduct that closely resembled that of a fucking obstinate child."

"I-"

I am typically not at a loss for words; however, Anatol consistently manages to provoke my unease. His tendency to conceal his emotions concerns me, as I perceive a distinctly perceive a simmering anger in his countenance despite his outward calm. "Hmm, Irena - I am awaiting your response," he prompts. as I tentatively moisten my lips with my tongue, my heartbeat pounds relentlessly within my ears.

"Answer me Irena!" he exclaimed loudly while throwing the glass in anger. The noise of the shattered glass reverberated throughout the room.

I turned away from him, feeling somewhat apprehensive.

He grabbed my face and compelled me to look at him. I gasped in disbelief, closing my eyes while pursing my lips tightly. I balled my fists and felt a shiver run down my spine due to fear.

"I must express my gratitude to you for securing the extension of Saint's contract. Regrettably, we are now constrained to maintain your presence for an additional two months. This period will require a sizable effort to instill appropriate etiquette in you." He barked in a stern tone.

My lips quivered with horror and dread, inducing a revolting sensation deep inside my stomach. "I assure you that except for Saint's protection, I would have-"

Anatol took a sharp breath and released my face, proceeding to storm out of his study.

"Take Irena to her goddamn room!" He bellowed to the guard waiting in the corridor. Instantly, two other guards entered the space and forcefully grasped my arm. I struggled but could not detach myself from the grip of the burly individual. After being dragged across the premises, I arrived at my separate quarters, where the guards forcibly thrust me inside before exiting and locking the door.

I perceive the sound of a lock being secured, closely followed by the gradual diminishing of footsteps.

The moisture evident in my eyes are indicative of the pain and hurt that I am experiencing as I remain within the confines of my dimly lit room. Slowly, I move towards the door, and as I lean against it, tears continue to cascade down my cheeks.

Intense emotions of rage course through me, flooding every fiber of my being, to the extent that I am unable to contain myself, and let out a primal scream, piercing through the thick veil of silence.

In this moment, it has dawned upon me that I am bereft of any viable escape route, and have become mired in an inescapable situation.

I am trapped.