I can’t move. I can’t think. It’s safe to say that I can hardly breathe.
I don’t think I’ll ever truly recover from what happened in that office. I’ll always remember it as the worst thing that ever happened to me. Being held down by those two men while that bastard dragged a knife across my thumb will haunt me even when the cut heals and scars.The helplessness I felt last night is something I’ll carry with me for the foreseeable future.After marking the contract with my blood, I was dragged out of the room and shoved in this small but elegant bedroom. I couldn’t even make it up to the bed. I had no strength in my body then and I still have none. I’ve been sitting on the carpet with my back against the bed since last night, too afraid to feel tired or sleepy.I was forced to sign a marital agreement with him, which means that at some point, I’m going to have to marry that creep. Nobody can save me from this fate, not unless they start a full-blown war. Even then, I might not be safe. An agreement is an agreement and there’s no turning back, especially when it’s signed in blood.I haven’t even been able to contact my family. I don’t know if I’ll be able to. I’ll probably be kept here as a prisoner until the wedding and then afterward as well. From now on, I’m his property. He can do whatever he pleases with me and I’ll be perfectly incapable of stopping him.I put my head in my hands as my heart sinks once again.I don’t know what I’m waiting for or how much longer I’ll have to stay here, in this position. My hair is still up and I’m still in my auction dress. I have nothing here, not clothes or anything. I wonder how long this is going to go but there’s no way of predicting it.I’m completely at their mercy now.I lie on my side on the ground just as there’s a knock at the door. I sit up hurriedly and stare at the closed door intensely. The person on the other side knocks again.“Miss Morelli, I am Hubert, the butler. I have your breakfast and a change of clothes ready for you.”I breathe a lot easier. At least it isn’t him. I clear my throat and say, “Come in,” as coldly as I can.The door is opened and a short man walks into the room. He appears to be in his early fifties and he’s carrying a silver tray which he sets down beside me. At the sight of him, I rise from the floor.“Good morning,” he says, bowing formally. “As I said, I am Hubert and am here to serve you. I will bring your new clothes shortly. If you wish for anything else, please let me know.”Without another word, he leaves the room and closes the door softly behind him. I stare at the breakfast tray. It doesn’t have an effect on my appetite. The scrambled eggs look soft and the tea is steaming and fragrant but I can’t eat. I don’t think anyone in my position would have an appetite.Hubert returns followed by one of the men who held me down while my thumb was sliced. The sight of him gives me shivers but he doesn’t even look at me as he enters the room.They’re carrying bags and bags of clothes. New clothes. Branded clothes.“If there is anything that doesn’t fit you, don’t hesitate to tell me. It will all be returned and replaced.”I nod, unable to say thank you. They file out of the room, leaving me to myself. I sit on the bed, right next to the tray and take a few deep breaths.A bath will do me good.I skip breakfast and go into the bathroom. I strip and get in the enormous shower with its gray tiles and glass doors. I regulate the temperature of the water before standing under the spray. I instantly feel better and relaxed. This is exactly what I needed to unwind, even if only a little bit.My stomach drops whenever I think about how stuck I am, and my burning and throbbing thumb serves as a constant reminder of what my life has been reduced to.I stand under the warm spray of water for about an hour. My heart doesn’t take any mercy on me. It sinks and skips several beats. My anxiety is bone-deep and there’s nothing I can do against it.I wrap a clean towel around my body when I’m done. I should have looked for something to wear beforehand but I hadn’t thought about it. I usually didn’t do that back home so it was a force of habit.I couldn’t have guessed that Igor Makárov would be in the bedroom when I got out of the shower, either.The sight of him makes my heart practically catapult out of my chest. A cigarette is dangling from his lips when he looks over his shoulder at me. He then turns around to face me fully.“You didn’t touch your breakfast,” he remarks.I don’t answer him.“Did you hear what I said?”“Loud and clear.”This surprises him. I can tell by the subtle widening of his eyes. “Then why is it that you don’t answer my question?”“I don’t have to inform you of my eating habits,” I say as I hold onto the towel tightly so it doesn’t fall, just to be on the safe side. “I usually don’t have breakfast.”“Well then you’ll have breakfast here,” he says matter-of-factly. “We have breakfast at 8 a.m. sharp. Make sure you’re not late tomorrow morning. As for today, be ready by six. That’s when we have dinner.”My anger spikes. I can’t control it. The words just slip out. “You can’t make me consort with you and your family. Unless you tie me to the chair, I won’t be there if I don’t want to and I assure you that I don’t!”“That’ll be done, then,” he says, taking the cigarette from his mouth and puffing out rancid smoke. “You’ll be tied to the chair. Thank you for the suggestion.”He starts to walk away and despair clutches at me. “What do you want from me?” I demand. “Why are you doing this?”Igor gives me a dark look over his shoulder. He holds the cigarette between his index and middle fingers and says to me, “I don’t owe you any explanation about the decisions I make. The point is you’re here and you’ll be a part of my family. Therefore, you’ll act like it. End of discussion.”He closes the door and my legs weaken. I drop to the bed as tears accumulate in my eyes. I wipe them away angrily when they fall, feeling like I’m letting myself down by allowing his taunts to get to me. God, I can’t believe this is happening to me. Why me? Out of all the girls in that auction, why did it have to be me?Why did I have to end up with this asshole who isn’t even Italian?I search for something to dress for fear that he’ll return and see me in a towel again. My anger hasn’t subsided and I could kill him. In fact, I’m fantasizing about doing just that.If he dies, I’m free from this damned contract.It’s just a thought but one with reason behind it. I’ve never had a thought like this before in my life but my eagerness to return to my old life is making me want to take the extreme route to get rid of him.Right now, I feel like I’d be perfectly capable of grabbing a knife and stabbing him repeatedly until he died.The clothes fit well, which angers me. He planned for this, the bastard. Isn’t that what he implied last night when he made me sign that thing? Someone was with him on this though I have no idea who. Who could have betrayed us this way?I don’t think anyone would have wanted a war.It’s still early so I don’t have to worry about dinner until much later. I grit my teeth just thinking about it. I decide that I won’t go willingly. Why should I facilitate his life and act like I’m hopeful to settle in amongst him and his kind? I’m a Morelli. I don’t give in. I don’t do things simply because I want to please people.I’m not going anywhere. It’s set.If he wants me to attend his stupid dinner, he can send his dogs to grab me and they’ll have to tie me down to the chair because I won’t sit still and have dinner with them like a good, obedient girl. Although I was taught to be that girl, I was also taught to be a fighter.Because of that, I’ll fight with everything I have and I’ll use the weapons that are currently available to me.And I won’t stop fighting him, not ever.I don't quite know where to put my eyes. They're on my lap, where I'm hoping they'll remain for the rest of the night because I don't want everyone seated around the table to look at my face. I'm sure my cheeks are red because I can feel how hot they are, and shame is probably written all over my face.I’ve been tied to the chair. The bastard actually did it. When I refused to come down to dinner, he sent those cronies to grab me and tie me to the damned chair. I didn’t resist because the situation was embarrassing enough as it was. They were already tying me to the chair; what else was I supposed to do?I’ve been tied down but my hands are free. I’m supposed to be eating the food that’s in front of me but I’m trying to prove a point but I won’t. Anyway, I’m not hungry. How can I eat when all these terrible things are happening to me?There are four people seated around the table including Igor. I’m not the only woman here—there’s one seated across from me that they keep calling An
I couldn’t sleep at night, once again. I wonder how long my body will take to completely give up on me. How can anyone sleep with this kind of anxiety, though? A den of wolves is where I am. I’m right at the center of it, surrounded by all of them. They keep snapping at me and growling, and I don’t know when they’ll ever lunge at me to rip me to pieces. It’s exactly the way I’m feeling now. They’ve shown me their teeth and nails, but when do they attack?I twist and turn in bed. After last night, I don’t know where I stand with them. I couldn’t control my anger and maybe that wasn’t the right thing to do, especially when tensions are so high. The way he looked at me gives me shivers even now, hours after the whole thing passed.I tell myself that there’s no turning back now, and that my father would be proud of me. That keeps me going. It diminishes the feeling of an impending doom hovering above my head, threatening to split it open. Just as I’m about to close my eyes, a knock at
Igor sticks to his word. No food or water is delivered to my room. I drink water from the sink in the bathroom when I'm thirsty, which is degrading but at least it's water. I start feeling the hunger pangs a little too early for my liking but I'm determined to ignore it. If he wants to starve me out, he can do it. I'm curious to see where he's going to go with this. I won't give him the pleasure of watching me beg, though, so he'll be disappointed. Although I have no experience in the matter of starving, I don't think it can be that bad. So far, it's entirely manageable. I'm sure that I'll manage for a few more days. It's more than enough time for my father to get me out of here, so all I have to do is push through. Since I have nothing to do and I don't see the point in packing the new clothes he got for me, I decide to sleep the day away. It's relatively easy because I'm tired from not sleeping for two nights. My sleep is heavy, too. I don't recall what I dreamt about while I wa
I haven’t left this room in four days. I’ve never been this bored in all my life, and it isn’t the kind of boredom I felt when I was a teenager; it’s paired in with despair and hopelessness. I wake up hoping that my father will walk through those doors and rescue me but no such thing has happened so far. I’m still here, surrounded by these wolves. Igor hasn’t come to see me. The only person from their household that I have been seeing frequent is Hubert, who brings me soups and light meals occasionally, as the doctor recommended. I can tell he feels sorry for me. He always speaks to me in a warm tone and I have no complaints about him. I have to say that it’s good to have someone come around and check on me. He has no bad intentions. He isn’t like the Makàrovs. My disappointment is bitter in my mouth. I can’t conceal it, not even from myself. I expected my father to be here a long time ago but it’s been a whole week since I last saw him and he promised me he’d come for me. I don
After dinner, dessert is served. It’s light, so I can easily finish it. It’s a tart and sweet passion fruit mousse, which is one of my favorites. Igor is the only one who doesn’t have dessert. Instead, he sits at the end of the table sucking on the end of a cigar with a glass filled halfway with whiskey in front of him. I only glance at him because I want to gauge the mood. After Leo made that comment in Russian, things became more awkward at the table. I don’t speak Russian, so I have no clue what he said. Waiting for everyone to rise from the table is the painful part. Although nothing much is said, nobody makes a move to stand, which means I’m stuck here for a few more minutes. “The Italian princess doesn’t think she’s too much for us anymore,” Leo says, surprising me. He puts emphasis on the word Italian. “What happened? Your plan didn’t work out for you?”I don’t answer him. I stare at my empty glass bowl and try to keep my expression light and neutral. If he wants to amuse
The morning is a slow one, which I’m actually thankful for. I’m dressed in one of the sleeping gowns I found in the shopping bags, which have been packed into the closet by Hubert and another maid. They washed it all and I watched them arrange the closet accordingly and couldn’t help but feel depressed. There was a permanent feeling to the act that was unshakable. Seeing the clothes in the shopping bags made this whole affair seem temporary. Watching them pack everything away made me feel like I’d never leave this damned place. It’s all I want yet things are taking longer than expected. I wish I could talk to my father and ask him why he didn’t come yet but I won’t ask Igor for the phone and anyway, he didn’t come yet because he forgot about me. He certainly didn’t forget. Things are probably more complicated than they seem. Until then, I’ll try to stay calm and I appreciate mornings like this. Firstly, I wasn’t called down for breakfast, which is a big relief because I genuinely
When the doors to the large venue open, my eyes widen considerably. I feel like I've stepped into the nineteen hundreds. The venue is more of a ballroom, and it's breathtaking and majestic. And the crowd. There are so many guests, all immaculately dressed. I notice this even from afar. There's a grand staircase leading to the party below, and so I can oversee everything from where I'm standing. It almost feels like someone will stand beside us and announce our presence like in the old days but that doesn't happen. The guards disperse once we step through the massive engraved doors and it's just Hubert and me. My courage fails me. I'm convinced that I won't be able to see this evening through. I can't face these many people. "I can't do this," I murmur to Hubert. "You must," he insists. "And I am certain that you can."Sometimes it's hard for me to tell whether he's on my side or not, because everything he's done so far is to benefit Igor. But he's also helped me from making a fo
“Igor,” Boris says with a quirk of his mouth. “I was just congratulating your lovely fiancée for being engaged to one of the finest men in the city.”His words drip sarcasm. If I have to be honest, this cheers me up a little. Not enough to crack a smile, but it still makes me feel a little better. “You have no reason to congratulate her,” Igor says. “In fact, you have no reason to speak to her at all.”“What’s this about?” Boris asks playfully as his eyes dart to Leo and Igor’s brother. “We’re friends. Practically family, according to the old laws.”“The circumstances of our association aren’t necessarily easy to define,” Igor answers. “But we are not family, Boris. And we never will be.”Boris narrows his eyes a little but he still doesn’t seem surprised or disappointed by anything. “How devastating,” he says dryly. “I expected more from the person I work closely with, so much that I might lose my life due to his desire for a pretty Italian zhena.”Igor’s face contorts into a mask o