“I will stay on top of things, and if I hear any more, I’ll give you a call.”
With that, the message ended. I sent him a text, thanking him, then grabbed the half-empty bottle of wine and made my way to my bedroom. It was time to put an end to this hellacious day. But I had a feeling that there would be more to come.
Many, many more.
I wouldn’t be able to truly rest until I dealt with Alek and the family. It would be the fight of my life, but I was ready. I had to be.
12
ALINA
It had been almost a week since I came to Little Rock searching for Viktor. I’d hoped that he would find it in his heart to help me, but I still haven’t had a chance to speak to him. Sergei had taken it upon himself to bypass his brother entirely and brought me to his apartment. I was a little nervous about the idea. I knew Sergei from my childhood, but only through the time I’d spent with his family and brother.
I remembered him as this fierce being with intense eyes and a chip on his shoulder. That hadn’t changed, but he’d offered his hand, and I’d had no choice but to take it. While I had no idea what it was, he was working on a plan to help me, but it was taking a great deal of time and patience.
Sergei came and went for hours at a time, leaving me to fill the silence any way I could. His apartment was beautiful and spacious, but with each passing hour, the walls felt closer and more like a prison than a safe haven. I had too much time on my hands, and I was constantly thinking of Alek and what he’d do when he found me.
Those thoughts led me to think about home.
It wasn’t because I missed it or Alek.
I didn’t.
Not even in the slightest.
It had never been good with him, not even at our wedding. I stood there next to him, wearing the dress they’d chosen for me while he slid the ring onto my finger. He was so cold and distant, and when he leaned in to kiss me, our lips barely touched, like he was putting on a show he couldn’t wait to be done with.
The intimacy we shared after was no different. When we had sex, it was like he wasn’t even in the room with me. He certainly wasn’t thinking of me. He wouldn’t even look at me, much less kiss me. He did the deed, and that was that. And this might sound crazy, but it didn’t even bother me.
I didn’t long for something more, and I didn’t feel rejected or less than.
I didn’t feel anything at all.
Truth was, I was relieved when he stopped initiating sex. I knew it wouldn’t last forever. He would expect an heir at some point, but I was tired of just going through the motions, especially when I hated him the way I did. I had good reason. It was hard to be intimate with someone who took joy in your pain.
He wasn’t one to hold my hand or kiss me goodnight, but he loved showing me just how strong and powerful he could be. He used that strength and power to keep me in my place, and it worked. He left me with memories that no amount of time could erase.
Whatever we had, it wasn’t a real marriage. It was a contract.
And now that I was out of it, I was relieved. But apprehensive.
There was a good chance he would find me, but I couldn’t go back.
I wouldn’t.
Thoughts like these haunted me throughout the day, and even more so at night. So, I did what I could to busy myself.I tried on the clothes Malcolm had bought me and pieced them together to make one outfit after the next. They weren’t anything extraordinary, just some jeans and sweats, but they were comfortable and incredibly thoughtful.
Once I put them all away, I tried reading and cleaning, but no matter how spotless I made the kitchen or how long I stared out at the city lights, my thoughts would always go dark. I needed a break, so I glanced over at Bog and considered trying to get him to talk to me.
I made my way to the kitchen and sighed when I found him sitting at his desk by the front door. He’d been there all day, watching the cameras like he was waiting for World War Three to come knocking at the door.
I understood his intensity. It was his job to hold the enemy’s lines, and he took his role seriously. He didn’t talk, and he only moved when he needed to stretch or shift his weight. I wasn’t sure if he was here to protect me or to ensure I stayed put. Maybe both.
I’d tried numerous times to make conversation, but each time, his answers were short and to the point. He made it pretty clear he didn’t want to talk, but I gave it a try. “Hey, Bog. How’s it going?”
“Fine.”
“Can I get you some coffee or a bite to eat?”
