Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Harper
They threw me into the basement like a bag of trash.
The heavy iron door slammed shut behind me, followed by the sharp click of a lock turning.
Not a single ray of light. The air reeked of moldy earth and rusted metal, a stench that churned my stomach and made me want to puke my guts out.
It was cold as a morgue freezer. Damp chill seeped through the cracks in the floor, drilling into my bones like thousands of needles.
"Ugh..." I tried to get up, but the second I moved, my waist exploded in tearing pain. That collision with the staircase railing had done real damage. Every movement was torture. I gasped and collapsed back onto the freezing concrete.
I curled into a ball, arms wrapped around my knees, trying to use that thin, dust-covered velvet gown to shield myself from the bone-deep cold.
But I couldn't stop shaking. My teeth chattered, clicking in the dead silence.
Ha. How pathetic, Harper.
I'll admit it—I'd had that stupid fantasy. That these past few months meant something. That the occasional warmth in those silver-gray eyes was real.
I knew he was a devil, but like a moth to flame, I'd thrown myself at that tiny spark of light anyway. Now the light was out. Nothing left but ashes. I wasn't just a substitute. I was a complete joke. In his eyes, I wasn't worth Genevie's pinky finger.
I didn't want to fight anymore. Didn't want to explain. Too tired. Too painful.
If I got out alive, I'd leave on my own.
Once Aiden's surgery was done, we'd leave together. Go far away. Give back the Orlov name, this absurd marriage, all of it.
I was done.
I'd take Aiden. We'd beg on the streets if we had to. Better than being a dog wagging its tail for scraps here.
I don't know how long passed, but just when I thought I'd freeze to death, a faint metallic scrape came from above the iron door. The small food slot cracked open.
A weak flashlight beam shot through, blinding me.
"Ma'am? Mrs. Orlov?" A trembling voice, barely a whisper.
I lunged toward it like a lifeline, pain be damned. "Anna? Is that you?"
"Shh! Keep it down." Anna's voice was thick with fear. "The guard just went for a smoke break. I've got one minute."
Something soft pushed through. A wool blanket.
"Take it. It's freezing in there."
My shaking hands grabbed the blanket, and before I could say thank you, my fingers hit something hard and rectangular tucked inside. My phone.
"It kept buzzing. Thought it might be urgent..." Anna's voice cracked with tears. "Ma'am, please call Mr. Orlov. Beg him. Apologize. He loves you so much—if you just humble yourself, maybe he'll soften up and let you out. Don't fight Genevie anymore, please..."
"Who's there?!" A guard's harsh bark echoed down the hallway.
"Sorry, ma'am, I have to go! God bless you!" The slot snapped shut. Light vanished. Darkness swallowed everything again.
I clutched that phone like it was my last shred of hope in this world. The screen lit up, stabbing my eyes. Dozen missed calls. All from the same number—St. Mary Hospital.
My heart skipped a beat. A fear colder than the basement crawled up my spine. The phone buzzed again, vibrating in my palm.
I fumbled to answer, pressed it to my ear.
"Hello..."
"Miss Evans? This is Dr. Miller." His voice was urgent, frantic. Even through the static, I could hear the chaos behind him. "You need to come to the hospital. Now. Aiden's condition deteriorated suddenly. Multiple organ failure. We're doing everything we can, but... all his vitals are crashing."
My brain went blank. A ringing filled my ears.
"What... what does that mean?"
"It means," the doctor's voice turned heavy, brutal, "he might not make it through the night. If you want to see him one last time, come now. Any later and you won't make it."
The phone slipped from my hand, hit my leg. Aiden. My brother. My only family in this world. The only reason I sold myself to the Orlovs, endured every humiliation.
He was dying.
"No! NO!!" I screamed until my voice shattered, cracked, couldn't form a single word.
Terror crushed everything else. I threw myself at the iron door like a madwoman, pounding with my fists, my palms, my whole body slamming against that immovable slab.
"Open up! Please open the door!" I sobbed hysterically, tears and snot streaming down my face. "Let me out! I need to get to the hospital! My brother's dying! Please!"
Dead silence outside. The guards were deaf.
"I know you're out there! Boris! Anyone!
Please have mercy!" My palms turned red and swollen.
My nails scraped the iron with a horrible screech, leaving bloody trails.
"Just let me get to the hospital! Let me see him one last time!
After that you can lock me up forever! Kill me if you want! Please, let me out!!"
No response. How could I forget? In this cold-blooded mafia manor, compassion was the cheapest trash. Without the boss's orders, I could die behind this door and they wouldn't blink.
Kirill. Only Kirill could save me. Only he could let me out.
I fumbled for my phone in the dark, fingers shaking so badly I could barely hold it. I opened my contacts, found that name—the name I'd once secretly loved, now hated with every fiber of my being.
Dial.
The long ring tone felt like a noose tightening around my neck. Answer! Please, Kirill, answer...
The call disconnected.
He wouldn't pick up. Kirill refused to hear my voice. Even now, when I was on my knees, begging like a dog for his mercy.
"Kirill! Answer the phone!!" I screamed at the screen, tears splashing onto it, blurring his name. "I didn't push her! I didn't... but I don't care anymore! I won't explain! Punish me however you want, just answer and let me save Aiden..."
I dialed again. This time, a cheerful notification tone.
Trembling, I opened the message.
A photo. The background was a luxurious VIP hospital room—warm, bright, peaceful. On the bed, Genevie and Kirill were locked in a kiss.
He was with the woman carrying his child, whispering sweet nothings in that warm room. And my brother, my teenage brother who'd never hurt anyone, was alone in an ER miles away, waiting to die.
"AHHHHH—!!" A wail of pure despair tore from my throat. My heart shattered into dust.
But I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. Even if my dignity was ground into the dirt, even if my heart was already dead, I couldn't give up on Aiden. Mechanically, obsessively, I dialed that number again and again.
Twentieth time. Thirtieth time.
The same cold automated message.
He'd turned his phone off. I was annoying him.
So I wouldn't interrupt his precious moment with Genevie. He'd severed my last lifeline to this world.
The phone slipped from my frozen fingers. That funeral bell rang again. Dr. Miller.
I answered. No sound came out. Only broken air from my throat.
"...Miss Evans." The doctor's voice was full of sympathy. "I'm so sorry. We did everything we could."
"Aiden was pronounced dead at 11:23PM. My condolences."
The world went silent. The footsteps outside vanished. The pain in my waist vanished. Even the basement's cold vanished.
Aiden was dead. Because I was locked in here. Because my husband, to defend his mistress's honor, had cut off my brother's last chance at life.
In the darkness, I slowly wrapped my arms around myself. My mouth opened wide to cry, but no sound came out. Only tears, silently sliding down my face.