Chapter 15 – Madelyn
The air was filled with the soft hum of machinery and the faint scent of disinfectant as I buried myself in work at the lab. My hair was tied back into a neat bun, and my fingers moved with practiced precision, measuring out a quantity of serum into a waiting vial. I struggled to stay focused, eyes fixed on the delicate equipment at my workstation.
How could I pretend that everything was fine when my life was in shambles—my world falling apart right in front of me? These thoughts wouldn't let me be, and the fact that I was pregnant was more than enough distraction already.
I paused, exhaling slowly, my gloved fingers massaging my temples as I yawned from exhaustion. This was by far the worst period of my life; I barely slept at night, barely smiled these days, barely ate, and nothing really excited me anymore. Why would it? I was drowning in fear and anxiety with no one to save me.
This was too much to bear alone, and most times, I cried when no one was looking. I hated myself for never stopping to think things through before acting on impulse. I had made a similar mistake with Ethan, and that got me in trouble. Still, I didn't learn my lesson. The very day the Ethan situation was taken care of, I walked into an even worse situation with my own two legs.
Ironic how the man who saved me from the Ethan situation was the same man responsible for my present predicament. I wished I'd listened to that silent voice in my head when it warned me against Kostya. I had ignored my instincts, my sense of reasoning, and damned the consequences of going to bed with the mysterious stranger that stole my heart. Look where that got me.
I hated regrets.
Normally, I was the type of woman who was always careful to avoid choices that might lead to regrets or what-ifs. But twice now, I'd let my guard down for men who, at first, seemed great. I should've learned from my mistake with Ethan, but what did I do? I allowed myself to get seduced and eventually got fucked on the same night I visited this stranger’s place for the first time. The worst part of this whole thing was that he didn't just fuck me; it was my fucking first time.
I moved from bad to worse because I acted on impulse. If I'd thought deeply about it, I'd have seen reasons to stay the hell away from that man. As if that wasn't enough, I now carried his baby inside me. This was all shades of bad, and it was weighing me down, slowly eating me up from the inside.
Lately, I'd been a mere shadow of myself, and even my own reflection irritated me—a constant reminder of the foolish, lovesick, horny girl who got me into this mess.
“Hey, Maddie, you okay?” Becky's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
I jerked my head and faced her. Becky was a redhead; she was petite with fine hazel eyes and a signature radiant smile on her heart-shaped face. She was my lab partner, and although we weren't really that close, we were cool enough to have worked together on several projects without getting on each other's nerves. Becky was someone who'd earned my respect and vice versa. She was an amazing person, very caring and quite observant. I knew she meant well and had no ill intentions whatsoever, but I just couldn't bring myself to tell her the truth. What was I going to say anyway? Where would I begin?
“Maddie, are you okay?” she repeated, shooting her brows up with her gaze fixed on me.
“Yeah. Yeah, uhh….” I smoothed my hair backward, clearing my throat. “I'm fine.” A forced smile played on my lips.
“You don't look fine, Madelyn,” she said, her voice laced with concern. “Your hands are shaking.” Her eyes dropped to them.
I traced her gaze and realized that, indeed, my hands were trembling. I flicked my wrists, wiggling my gloved fingers as I let out a nervous laugh, trying to brush it off. “I'm just…uhh…. I'm just tired. That's all.”
Becky's gaze lingered on me, her brows narrowing with skepticism etched on her face. She stepped forward, her voice lowering. “Maddie, we've worked together too long. I think I can tell by now when you're not yourself.” She halted in front of me, her eyes jerking up to look at my face. “And lately, you haven't been yourself. You've been…distracted, withdrawn, and most times, you just stare into space.” She took my hands, her touch gentle.
My tear glands were charging up, and my eyes were starting to sting. She was right, and I honestly wished that I could just tell her what was happening in my life. But I couldn't.
“I know there's something weighing you down,” she continued. “I saw you the other day…in your car at the parking lot.”
Becky didn't have to say what she saw me doing; I remembered that day. I was crying in my car, and I had hoped that no one had seen me.
“You should open up to someone, even if you don't wanna talk to me,” she said, her tone low and reassuring. “It'll help, trust me.” Becky's eyes crinkled at the corners as she flashed an encouraging smile at me.
I sniffled, wiping the tears that almost dropped from my eyes. “Thanks, Becky. This means a lot.”
“Us girls have to stick together, am I right?” She playfully tapped my shoulder, prompting a light chuckle out of me.
I smiled, the first genuine one in days, and I'd almost forgotten how good it felt. She didn't even know what was going on, yet somehow, her words had such a positive effect on me. Of course, it wasn't going to be long until I crawled back into my hole of depression, but for the time being, I'd savor this little break.
“There she is,” Becky said, grinning as she watched my expression soften. “There's the sunshine girl I know.”
I sniffled, exhaling sharply, hands brushing over my face. It was like a superpower Becky possessed because I couldn't understand why I felt so light-hearted all of a sudden when she barely even said much.
Becky tapped my shoulder and walked back to her workstation. “You'll be fine in the end, Maddie, trust me.” She looked at me and added with a radiant and contagious smile, “It might not look like it at the moment, but in the end, I can guarantee you that all will fall in place.”
I doubted that, considering the current situation, but I was willing to let myself hope a little. I'd been worrying a lot, and nothing good had come out of it, so maybe I'd try to act cool. It was going to be very difficult, especially now that Kostya had made it pretty clear that he owned me and that my father's life was in his hands.
However, I was willing to try, at least so the world wouldn't know about my plight. I wasn't the only human being with problems, and I wasn't going to continue making mine obvious. I'd deal with this on my own until the day the cat would get out of the bag.
Yes, I dreaded that day and so wished that it would never come, but I knew better. It would come eventually: the day when both my father and Kostya would find out that I was pregnant. It would be a cold day in hell.
From that moment on—after Becky's kind words—my mood switched to a less gloomier one. My hands stopped trembling, and my head was much clearer than it had been since this whole scandal began. I worked more efficiently, faster, and better, and in no time, I was done for the day.
I shed my crisp white lab coat, draping it over the back of the stool. Peeling off my gloves, I tossed them into the nearest bin, and my fingers flew into my hair, undoing my bun. My soft blonde hair fell loosely over my shoulders, and I let out a sharp exhale, struggling with the tension deep within me that wouldn't let me quiet my nerves.
I grabbed my bag from the table and headed out but stopped by Becky's workstation first. “Hey,” I called softly, pausing beside her.
“Hey, you ready to go?” She raised her head, her eyes locking to mine with slightly furrowed brows.
“Yeah. Your words kinda helped me quicken my pace,” I replied, feeling a small smile form.
Becky’s face softened, lighting up with a grin. “Aww. It's nice to see you smile again.” She leaned forward, elbows on the bench and her hands clasped together. “You've been carrying around a cloud for days now. I'm glad to see some sunshine peeking through.”
“Thanks a lot, Becky.” My lips curled up into a smile. “I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, see you tomorrow.” She mirrored the gesture as I turned around to leave.
My heels clicked against the floor as I walked through the reception, eyes down in my bag while checking to be sure my keys were in there. The news on TV was about some guy who was found dead in his apartment, and I thought it was just another Tuesday in the city—nothing much to stress over.
Instantly, I had a change of heart when I caught a glimpse of the photo of the deceased guy plastered on the screen. My breath ceased momentarily as I looked closer to be sure my mind wasn't playing tricks on me. Unfortunately, it wasn't. The guy in question was indeed who I thought he was: Ethan.
The headline read, “Local Man Found Dead in Apartment: Police Investigating Possible Suicide.”
Ethan is dead?
My knees quaked, and my heart was suddenly so heavy again. “Please turn that up,” I said to the receptionist with a breaking voice.
She reached for the TV remote and turned up the volume.
“Just yesterday, 24-year-old Ethan Peters was found dead in his apartment…” the female newscaster reported.
My hands flew to my mouth as tears filled my eyes that instant. My lips were trembling, and my heart shattered into a million tiny pieces.
“Preliminary investigations suggest that Peters took his own life in a brutal manner, although the exact circumstances surrounding his death are still unclear…” she continued.
There was no way in hell that Ethan took his own life. Never. The man loved life so much that he'd never even think of doing this to himself. There was only one explanation: This was Kostya's doing. He killed Ethan and made it look like suicide.
My head was on fire right now, and my legs didn’t seem strong enough to carry my weight. It made sense now why he never told me what he did to Ethan, how he got him to delete the photo and apologize to me. He’d actually killed him.
My hand reached to my chest in seconds, massaging it as if to soothe the pain that this news had inflicted me with. My breathing was heavier by the second as the realization of how dangerous this man was started to sink in.
Sure, I was mad at Ethan for what he attempted to do, but I didn't want him dead. When I told Kostya his name, I didn't think he'd find and kill him.
Fuck! This just keeps getting messier.
Kostya wasn't a man that I wanted to toil around with—Dad was right; he was a heartless, cold-blooded killer. And now, I was entangled in his web of death and chaos. He'd killed Ethan brutally, and now whatever fear I had of him had tripled. He could kill my dad with a single snap of his fingers.
It felt like I'd been punched in the gut. My face contorted in pain, and my lips trembled as I struggled to digest the news. My eyes stung with unshed tears as my legs wobbled beneath me. My chest was heaving rapidly, and my whole body felt numb as I dragged myself toward the exit.
I needed to get away from this suffocating air, and the moment my shaking hands pushed the door open, I bumped into a solid figure, our bodies colliding.
“Sorry,” I apologized without looking at the figure.
“Madelyn?” the familiar voice called out softly.
I jerked my head and realized it was Jeremy Fox. “Jeremy, hi,” I managed to greet with a faint tone, too weak for any sort of conversation at the moment.
“Just the person I was looking for—was driving by and decided to check on you and…/” He paused, finally noticing my mood. “Oh, my God, are you okay?” His gentle hands grabbed my elbows.
My eyes dropped, my vision blurring as I shook my head with trembling lips, trying to find my voice. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of emotions, and I just stared at him, unable to speak.
“Why don't we just take a brisk walk around so you can clear your head?” he proposed, eyes locked on me with concern flickering in his gaze. “Works every time for me, and I believe it'll do you some good.”
He held my hand, and we hadn't even gone far when I spotted a black car across the street with two huge men in black shades watching us.
They looked like Arnold Schwarzenegger from The Terminator, and with the way they trailed me with their heads, I knew they were Kostya's men.
My heart skipped a beat, my pulse quickening as I looked at Jeremy, who said something to me, but I was too distracted to listen. His lips were pouting, but I couldn't hear a word he was saying.
Jeremy was a good man, and he didn't deserve to be hurt by those men or, worse, suffer the same fate as Ethan. Kostya was a dominant alpha, and men like him could kill any man who dared come around their mates. He'd made it pretty clear that I belonged to him, so Jeremy being around me was obviously a problem that could cost the young man his life.
I couldn't afford any more death on my conscience, and the longer he hung around me, the more endangered he'd become.
“Go home,” I said, glaring at him.
It broke my heart that I had to be mean to him, but it was the only way to save his life.
His brows shot up at my command. “What?”
“You heard me,” I repeated, struggling to act tough and rude. “Get out of my sight. Leave and never try to reach out to me again.”
“What?” Shock was evident in his gaze, and his brows furrowed. “Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry if—”
“Jeremy, just go—leave me the fuck alone, okay?!” I snarled at him so viciously that he flinched in embarrassment.
His eyes held a glint of pain and disappointment, a flicker of hurt dancing in their depths. His lips tightened into a thin line, and his jaw clenched. Jeremy's shoulders slumped slightly as he nodded, coldly walking away from me.
I rapidly blinked back the tears that welled my eyes with a sharp exhale as I watched him leave. He must hate me now. I'd hate me for sure if I were him. But I did it to save him. Maybe he'd never find out my reason for being so cold and harsh toward him today, but it was better if he hated me and lived than loved me and died.
“Fuck you, Kostya,” I muttered to myself, knowing this was my reality now; I truly was his to do with as he pleased.