Chapter 21 – Marielle
The air smelled of sweat and decay.
My wrists ached; my mouth was dry. The back of my head pulsed as if it had its own heartbeat.
Slowly, I lifted my heavy eyelids.
The only bulb in the wide space shone on two men playing cards on a bench at the center.
I was sitting with my hands behind me, strapped to a metal chair.
I remembered entering the study. The broken window. The hit on the back of my head.
And this had to happen when I was wearing a robe.
“Oh, the princess is awake,” one of the men remarked.
As they left the bench and approached me, I didn’t need anyone to tell me that they were Lucien’s men.
But I still asked, “Who are you? What do you want from me?”
A sharp slap snapped my head to the side, causing my ponytail to brush my face.
Been a while since I got one of those.
“You don’t speak unless you’re spoken to,” the stout man who slapped me said.
I clenched my teeth, my jaw stinging with pain.
“I’m sure you know who we are. Your Mafia husband must have told you when he killed our colleagues. Didn’t he?” the other guy spat, bending to be eye level with me.
I blinked.
He backhanded me, and I struggled to stay silent.
The stout guy gripped my jaw, forcing me to look up at him.
“Nobody is coming for you. Your husband has a goodbye note supposedly written by you. So you’d better obey our rules. We have your life in our hands. We can do anything we decide with you. Well, not us, but our boss. And you’re not on his good side.”
I wanted to ask where the hell Lucien himself was. But I held back because my clothing put me at a greater disadvantage. I could take the slaps and hits, but if they decided to take it up a notch, I’d beg for death. Not that I wouldn’t be getting it eventually.
“Now, the boss has asked us not to do any harm to you until he gets here. But it’s not safe for you to tempt us,” he added.
Several hours passed with me tied to the chair, while they played cards and even slept. I was more uncomfortable about waiting to know my fate.
***
I heard the creak of metal.
“Boss,” the two men stood from the bench.
Lucien.
He walked over to me like he couldn’t wait to see me. He was dressed in his usual suit, but an evil smile that contrasted with the charming one I knew was on his face.
“Darling, here we are,” he remarked, bringing his palm to the side of my face.
I moved my head backward, and a smirk replaced his smile.
“I see your Bratva husband is taking care of you, dressing you up like a Russian seductress, hm?”
He turned to one of his men, who brought a chair for him.
Taking his seat in front of me, he told me, “You brought this upon yourself, you know? You should have died when I wanted you to. You should have stayed quiet. Now you’ve opened that mouth of yours, and my empire is cracking because of it.”
He suddenly looked older to me. And very, very ugly. I saw him for the monster he was. The monster locked behind crisp shirts and charming civility. The thought that I had ever touched an inch of his skin made my stomach churn.
He stood, then moved closer before bending down in front of my face.
“Before I dispose of you, I’ll take what I can.” He slanted his head like he remembered something before he went on, “Your husband has definitely changed your virgin status. But I’m not arrogant; I’ll take what I can get.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, unable to stomach my disgust.
“What else?” he asked, his hand gripping my left shoulder.
He snaked his hand to my collarbone. I gasped when he tore my robe, exposing more of my collarbone and shoulder.
“I’ll do it,” he promised. “And I won’t just fuck your pussy. I’ll fuck that loose mouth of yours. You’ll swallow every drop when I come. Then we’ll move to your ass. When I’m sick and tired, I’ll pass on your worthless body to my men.”
There was no doubt in his voice.
Fear gripped me.
He stepped back and straightened again.
“Take her inside. I’ll be back,” he told the men.
For the first time since I’d been here, I hoped help would come by some kind of miracle.
***
I was alone, still strapped to the chair, in a dark, dingy room. The small patch of sunlight from the only opening that served as a window told me it was afternoon.
Everything hurt.
But not as bad as my heart as I thought of Eduard.
My husband.
He was nothing like Lucien, even though they belonged to similar worlds. Even when I was confined to my old room, he never treated me as badly as Lucien did in just a few hours.
Considering Lucien, I realized how big it was for someone like Eduard to be as tender as he was toward me. I thought of when he wrapped his arms around me as we watched movies, how he hugged me, how he kissed me as if I were the purest thing he had ever touched.
I realized how much I had expected from him. I thought he would openly share every feeling and thought that crossed his mind. Only now did I see that a man like him was meant to keep things inside. But Eduard still tried to be that, for me.
He still had the movie date with me, even though it wasn’t his scene. He still gifted me my favorite snacks and outfits, even though gestures like that didn’t exist in his world.
Without my notice, Eduard had snuck his way into the dearest parts of my heart.
He had become the center of all my desire and affection. His darkness never scared me; it made me feel more wanted.
I love him.
It might be too late.
I might never get the chance to tell him how much he meant to me. It was probably too late for me to hold his face in my hands and tell him I would be more patient. That I wanted him. That he’d become everything I never thought I would want.
And that somehow scared me more than dying in this place.
That was when the tears fell.