13. Sofia
SOFIA
There’s a little time stamp in the top corner of my television’s home screen that I’ve been using to keep track of time.
It’s wrong. It shows a date that’s about three years back and it’s stuck on blinking the wrong time, but the date still changes daily.
I’ve been using my handy safety pin to scratch tally lines in the side of my vanity based on that.
I first tried to go with a day-night cycle, but there are some times when Titus has his way with me for so long that I actually lose track.
That’s happened at least five times since I’ve been here.
All that said, by my estimation, it’s been about two weeks since the day I overheard him talking about my brother.
In a way, I kind of wish I hadn’t decided to eavesdrop.
There’s a part of me that wants to believe that Titus might be developing some affection for me.
And as much as I hate to admit, there are parts of being around him that I’ve come to enjoy, like when he starts telling me about the history of things, casually working in the origin of the food or wine or even the flowers on the table sometimes.
At first, it was just little things like that.
Since I’ve been assigned to entertain his son, I’ve started to see shades of another side to him. He doesn’t talk to anyone else the way he talks to his son. His tone softens without losing its strength. He behaves… well… like a father.
Lately, I’ve been spending my afternoons with Luka in his room or sometimes in mine.
He’s always got little study sheets that we go over together.
I’m no teacher, but that’s all right. We study them and sometimes, I find out things that I somehow missed when I was in school.
Titus watches over us sometimes and… and I think he enjoys how well the two of us click.
It all makes me wonder… what would this life be like if he weren’t responsible for killing my father and my family? If he weren’t holding me hostage here? What would it be like if when we fucked, it felt like love instead of sex?
I’m running all this down while I drink coffee and watch one of the reality shows I’ve become addicted to. I’m not in a position of entertaining flights of fancy like that. I’ve got bigger issues.
Like Adam. As far as I know, he hasn’t been caught yet. It makes me wonder if what his people said was actually true all along. That he actually ratted. If they haven’t found him yet, it could be because the Feds have him. Adam isn’t street smart enough to avoid the Bratva for as long as he has.
God, I hope he hasn’t done something stupid. I keep thinking back to one of our last conversations.
“We could go to the Feds ourselves. Turn states evidence… I know the rules, Sof. I know it’s a cardinal sin to rat, but we’re out on a limb. We can’t sustain this.”
The thought was there already. I hope he remembers how much worse it could get if he goes to the Feds. I hope he understands that running from one Bratva is better than having to run from them all.
At least if he didn’t, I can work on Titus. I can try to convince him not to kill my brother. It’s a small chance, but that’s better than no chance.
I hear the door unlock and I look up. A moment later, Titus walks in.
“Good morning, Princess,” he says the way he does every morning.
“Good morning, Sir,” I say. Weird how ‘Sir’ just rolls off my tongue now. I set my coffee down and stand up. He glances past me to the television and grimaces.
“Turn that off.”
I do, turning to get my remote and turning it off.
When I turn back around, I see him looking me up and down.
I already know what’s going on behind his eyes.
He’s walked in here and I’m in my pajamas.
No makeup. My hair is hanging loose around my shoulders and down my back.
It’s midmorning. By this time, I should have showered and dressed, put my hair in his favorite long ponytail.
I didn’t this time… and I can see his annoyance with me. I smile and say, “Something wrong?”
“Why aren’t you dressed yet?”
“I didn’t feel like it,” I tell him. “I wanted to sleep in.”
He tilts his head and a little smile appears. “I don’t remember giving you permission to ‘sleep in’. You know you’re supposed to be ready for me every time I come in here.”
I throw him a mischievous grin and say, “Who says I’m not ready? If you want me, I’m right here.”
He walks up to me and caresses my face, his fingers tracing my jawline. Chills run up and down my spine as he brushes my hand over my ear.
Then, without warning, he grabs the back of my neck, yanking me to him. My heart jumps as I gasp with surprise.
“So, today you want to be a little brat? I’m clued into this little game you like to play with me, Princess.”
My heart is racing as his gold eyes move over my face, visually devouring me. His mouth is just a few inches away from mine. If I stood on my tiptoes, I could steal a kiss. Instead, I say to him, “Are you going to punish me, Daddy?”
That gets him every time. His breath changes and his pupils dilate. His mouth starts to wet a little as he licks his lips. Oh, I’m in for it now.
He looks away from me, then he lets me go, taking a step back. “You’ll get yours,” he says. “Later. I’ve got too much work today to spend time correcting your behavior before I fuck you.”
Damn.
“I still need you to get dressed, however. It’s Tuesday.”
I deflate a little. Tuesdays, I’m allowed to leave the house for a couple of hours.
Always with Luka, and usually to the park, since that’s closest. Titus has never said that he sends someone to watch me, but I know that he does.
Sometimes, I think I spot his sovietnik a few yards away as Luka plays on the swings.
“You look a little disappointed,” he says. “Taking Luka to the park on a weekly basis was your idea.”
“I know,” I say. “I just…” I stop myself on the edge of a thought that just pops into my mind. I was hoping you and I could spend some time together. I must be losing my damn mind.
I sigh and say, “Never mind. Give me about twenty minutes and I’ll be ready.”
He nods. “Good.”
He watches me as I walk to the bathroom. I pause and turn to him in the doorway. “Maybe there’s some way you can make time to punish me after I shower? Wet skin makes a loud noise when smacked.”
His smile broadens and he answers, “Maybe doing nothing this time is your punishment, Princess. Stop being so fucking eager.”
I roll my eyes and step into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
Luka, as usual, is over the moon at the idea of going to the park.
Anytime he can get out of the house is a good time.
If there’s anybody who understands that, it’s me.
There are days I pick the lock of my room just to sit on the back porch—an activity I had to stop doing because of Titus’s men patrolling the yard.
I’ve since decided to sneak out and go swimming, usually late at night.
A high privacy fence surrounds that whole area, so unless he’s got snipers on the roof, I can swim naked if I want to without being disturbed.
This is a good substitute, though. Luka’s sitting next to me in the backseat while Ignat drives us in silence.
The smile on his face is priceless as we pass by several little stores and restaurants.
The one that he always looks for is the ice cream kiosk that’s in walking distance of the park.
He never asks to go to it, though. I wish I could take him.
The car pulls up to the park entrance and Ignat looks at me through the rearview. “Two hours,” he says. “Not a minute more.”
He says that every time and every time, I just answer, “Understood.”
Luka and I exit the car and start the walk down the path toward the playground a little ways away. Luka skips next to me, knowing better than to go darting off before we get there.
“What’s first today?” I ask him.
He’s looking at the collection of children playing on the jungle gym, his eyes scanning each face.
“Luka?”
He looks up at me, then shrugs. “I don’t know. Probably the slide.”
He goes back to looking around the grounds, which he keeps doing until we actually get there. Then his face brights suddenly as he waves to someone. I look to see a little girl with bouncy brown pigtails wave back.
How cute! “Who’s that?”
“Huh?” he says, then, “Nobody. Just a friend. Can I go?”
“Go on,” I tell him, and he runs off to play. I wander over to the nearest bench and sit down, pulling one of the books from my room out of my back pocket. This one’s a romance novel, which I’m not normally into, but beggars can hardly be choosers.
I read and listen out for Luka’s voice. As long as I can hear him chattering away and laughing, I know he’s good, but every so often, I lift my eyes to track where he’s gone.
He’s a good kid. I never see him drift too far away from me during these park visits.
I also take a moment to see if I can find Ignat.
Right off, I don’t think I see anyone today.
It’s like my own personal game of ‘Where’s Waldo?
’. I don’t see Ignat today, though. No suits.
No black clothing. No oddly tattooed men casually circling the park.
Maybe he gave Ignat the day off. Or maybe he’s just gotten better at hiding.
A father pushing a buggy walks up to the bench and sits down next to me, so I turn my attention back to my book. This happens from time to time and usually, they try to strike up a conversation. The mothers only do it sometimes, but the men like to talk all the time. It’s annoying…
Casually, my eye glances at the buggy and I immediately notice that it’s empty. What the hell…?
“Sofia,” the man next to me says in a low, restrained tone. I go to look at him and he says, “Don’t. Just go back to reading. Pretend I’m not talking to you.”