Chapter Ten
Alessia
My body felt weak. Every muscle ached, like a thousand invisible hands were pressing into me from all sides.
It was the pain that made you question if you had been in a fight the night before, or worse, if you had lost a fight you initiated.
The only thing I knew for sure was that the dull throb in my head, pulsing with the rhythm of my heartbeat, had not come from a peaceful night’s sleep.
I woke up gasping, my lungs working overtime as my eyes blinked open. I adjusted to the light filtering through the cabin. My head pounded like a drum, and I fought against the urge to curl back into the blankets.
Where the hell was I?
The last time I felt this way was when I got drunk at a club with Carina. It had always been the same, the pain that seemed to stretch through every bone in my body.
Memories came crashing back: the wine, the bottle, and the laughter. But that was where the recollection stopped. Nothing beyond that. It was like a hole ripped through my memory, leaving nothing but fog in its wake.
My shoulders tensed, and I froze at the thought of Artur. The name and all the things he could do to me flashed through my mind. I shot up from the bed, my breath quickening as anxiety clawed at my chest.
If I drank that wine, Artur would kill me. My vision blurred, and I wiped my eyes with my hand. He would…
Wait, was I dreaming? I could see Artur. He was here.
Artur sat across from me, his figure draped in a black suit that only added to the menacing air about him. He casually crossed one leg over the other, fixing his focus on a laptop screen. He was still, but the tension in the room was palpable; it was like a storm waiting to break.
I gripped the comforter against my chest, trying to steady my racing thoughts. As my gaze swept the room, a sick feeling settled in my stomach. We were on a plane. My heart skipped a beat.
What the hell was going on? I spotted a silver dress hanging in an empty wardrobe, the fabric gleaming under the light. My stomach lurched as I remembered the red dress he once sent as a gift. The presence of a dress meant trouble. It always did with him.
He knew I was awake. But he didn’t even glance at me.
“Where... where are we going?” My voice came out hoarse, though I didn’t know if that was the right question. It was better than silence, right?
He didn’t answer.
Frustration bubbled up, but I forced myself to keep calm. I swung my legs off the bed, and my eyes immediately landed on the huge stain on my white shirt. It was clear as day that it was red wine.
Clearing my throat, I tried to piece together some explanation. “Last night I…” I faltered when his gaze finally locked on mine. “I can explain,” I added, the words tumbling out with a nervous urgency I couldn’t hide.
“I’m listening,” Artur said.
The weight of his stare cut through me.
“You see, I was cleaning the bar counters, and this bottle of wine just... tempted me.” I bit my lower lip. “I only took one glass.”
Artur’s eyes narrowed slightly. “One?”
I swallowed. I couldn’t remember. “Two. Only two.”
“Oh.” He rubbed his jaw slowly, never breaking eye contact. “Only two, huh?”
Damn, I didn’t finish the bottle, did I? My mind reeled as my face burned.
“A few sips knocked me out, so I don’t really remember much, but trust me, I was just... tasting it.” The words came out in a rush, like they might somehow save me.
“Stop embarrassing yourself and get dressed.” His voice cut through my rambling.
I froze, my heart in my throat. “You... you’re not mad?”
He sighed as though he was tired of entertaining the idea. With a sudden shift, he stood. I took a step back, trying to put space between us. But he wasn’t having it.
“Are you sure you want to know the answer to that?” he asked.
A nervous laugh escaped me. “No. Not really. I mean... It’s just a bottle of wine, right?” My words sounded hollow, and I forced a giggle to cover the tension in my chest. “I’m crazy to think you would get mad over wine.”
But the humor quickly died when I saw the glare he shot me. I shrugged. “Okay, I’m sorry.”
Artur’s gaze didn’t soften. “Are you done?” he asked, his brow cocking. After a long moment of prolonged silence, he said, “Good. Because we’re late.”
Without further words, he stepped toward me, and even though I backed up, he wrapped his hand around my waist.
Before I could react, he was dragging me toward a full-length mirror. My pulse raced in my veins, panic flooding me. What was he going to do?
We stopped in front of the mirror. Artur stood tall behind me, my back pressed to his chest. I could see us both in the reflection.
My appearance was a mess: my shirt was stained, my hair was tangled, and my eyes were red.
I looked like someone who had done something they shouldn’t have, and I hated that he could see it and use it against me.
“You’ll do what I say,” Artur’s voice rumbled low in my ear.
I met his gaze in the mirror. His eyes were almost predatory, and something in me trembled. He looked dangerous, and it had nothing to do with his physical presence or how he made me feel. I was like a piece of meat for him to devour.
“Otherwise,” he continued, his free hand sliding up my neck and pushing me backwards until I leaned against his chest. “I won’t listen to any apology you have.”
His face brushed against my cheek, and the warmth of his breath sent a shiver down my spine. I bit the inside of my lip to hold back the tremor in my voice.
“Now...” His hand gripped my chin, turning my face upward so that my eyes met his. “I want you to dress up and look nice for me.” His voice remained low, but the command was there. “And you should behave. The event is very important to me, Little Gem. So behave.”
His other hand slid down my body, his fingers grazing the edge of my thigh, sending a chill through my skin. I tried to wiggle away, but his grip tightened. Before I could protest, he hiked my skirt, inch by inch, until it topped my waist.
My breath caught in my throat.
“Go take a quick shower,” he ordered, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. “You don’t want to smell like a vintner, do you?” I shook my head. “Good. Because I want you to be useful tonight.”
“Okay,” I whispered. Would this guarantee my freedom?
Artur merely smirked, his hand sliding beneath the waistband of my panties. “Smile. I might forgive you for consuming three bottles of wine without permission.”
“Three?” My voice was high with a mix of disbelief
He chuckled, his fingers pulling my panties down. “Three,” he confirmed, his tone almost amused.
I wanted to fight back. But all I could do was watch him in the mirror. This man had me completely trapped and half-naked at his mercy.
We arrived at the event. Seeing Artur blend into an environment that had nothing to do with the underworld shocked me.
Gone were the cigars and bullets. He wore a pristine black suit, presenting himself as a refined gentleman.
He fitted well on this side of the world, but I learned long ago not to let appearances fool me.
The moment he stepped inside, all eyes were on him. His presence commanded attention. Surprisingly, he was gracious enough to spare a few minutes with them.
His politeness was a mask, and I knew it all too well. I followed his lead, stopping when he did, waiting while he exchanged pleasantries, and moving with him to the next group. He would speak in languages I didn’t understand, switching between them as if he had mastered every tongue.
The ballroom was a portrait of wealth and extravagance. Women wore dresses that whispered luxury. The men were no different, adorned in sharp suits and tuxedos that only added to the elegance. The air was rich with the scent of expensive cologne and perfume.
I looked like one of them. The silver dress clung to every curve, accentuating my lean figure with a V-neckline that framed my chest. On the outside, I looked stunning. But inside, I was exhausted and mentally drained.
Artur expected me to smile, yet he had taken lives in my name. That weighed heavily on me. How many more lives would it take before I was free? How many more deaths would I witness? And would I ever be able to leave this world?
“Smile.” Artur’s voice pulled me from my dark thoughts. I inhaled, holding myself together. “That’s your job here.”
Ignoring him, I focused instead on our next destination. He finished greeting people and guided me toward a table. As we moved, I couldn’t ignore the stares trailing us and whispers flicking through the air.
The tables had sleek displays of crystal glasses and name tags. The name ‘Konstantinov’ stood out on the tag of the table we approached, and I could already tell it was ours.
A woman stood as we arrived, her long red dress flowing effortlessly around her. Her hair, just as red, cascaded over her shoulders like a fiery waterfall. She exuded confidence, and if Carina were here, she could have described her as a ‘rich bad bitch’.
“Elena.” Artur greeted her, his arms extending to pull her into an embrace. Leaning in, he murmured in her ear, “Te ves tan hermosa.”
“Muchas gracias,” she replied with a smile, eyeing him up and down. “How was your flight?”
“Bueno,” Artur sat beside her. She didn’t acknowledge me, and I didn’t care. I slipped into the seat across from them, my mind wandering.
Their conversation didn’t interest me. I surveyed the ballroom, taking in the surrounding scene. A table near the staircase caught my eye. It had the name ‘Leonid’ written on it. I didn’t know who Leonid was, but my gaze lingered on the table. For my sanity, I hoped to see a familiar face.
There were Italians here, too. I heard a few chatting around the room. The room continued to fill as groups of guests entered until it was packed. I picked up a glass of red wine, using it to busy my hands while my mind wandered. It was when Elena spoke, pointing at me.
“Your secretary?” she asked Artur.