Chapter 7
Nina
After being forced to listen to Ivan’s crude remark about fucking me, he finally opens the door.
I rush inside, and Simi’s head pops up from where she’s brushing her doll’s hair. Dropping the toy, she scrambles to her feet. “Mama!”
I sweep my beautiful girl into my arms and hold her tightly while taking a deep breath of her scent. “Milo moe,” I almost whimper from the intense relief of finally getting to hold my daughter.
“I missed you so much, Mama,” Simi sniffles while snuggling deeper into my embrace.
“I missed you, too.”
I hear Tanya move and quickly glance in her direction.
She pauses at the door, glaring at me. “If either of you causes trouble, Ivan will deal with it.” Her mouth curves into a triumphant smile as she steps into the hallway.
“Boris sent for me.” Smug laughter bubbles over her lips.
“Can’t keep my man waiting. Enjoy your two hours with the brat because I know I’ll enjoy my time with your father. ”
Bitch.
I turn my attention back to my daughter and move her to the corner where her toys are, aware of Ivan standing near the door, watching us.
Simi lifts her head and looks toward the door, then back at me, her expression brightening. “She’s gone.”
“For a little while,” I murmur as I stretch out onto my stomach, propping my chin on my hand. “Looks like I get my girl all to myself. Do you want to color?”
A tiny smile blooms on her face, all sweetness and love, and she pushes her coloring book closer to me, the page partially covered with wild circles and uneven patches of color.
“This is us,” she whispers, pointing at the top corner.
I study the two crooked figures she’s drawn, one much taller than the other, and point to a yellow shape hovering above us. “And what’s this?”
“The sun.”
God, what I’d give to walk outside with Simi.
She lies down beside me, and with our heads close to each other, I ask, “What did you do today?”
She shrugs. “Tanya watched her show and said if I made any noise, she’d spank me.”
I hate that woman so much.
Simi looks at me. “I kept quiet, Mama.”
My heart constricts in my chest. “You’re such a good girl, milo moe.”
We begin to color, our crayons moving over the paper while she narrates everything she draws. She gives flowers names, insisting the blue scribble is a pool we’ll one day have when our prince comes.
She hooks her left hand through my arm and holds on to me as if she’s scared I’ll suddenly disappear.
I drop the crayon and smooth my fingers through her hair, pressing tender kisses to her temple. “I love you so much. You fill my entire heart.”
When Simi glances at me, I give her an affectionate smile.
She tips her head to the side and whispers, “You look prettier when you smile.”
I brush my thumb over her cheek. “I only smile for you.”
She grins happily, then rolls onto her back, her fingers gripping my arm.
“I wish we could stay together all the time,” she says, her tone sad.
I reach over, tuck loose curls behind her ear, and let my hand linger against the softness of her cheek. “I’m with you even when you can’t see me.”
After a while, she looks at me with wide eyes and whispers, “Is the prince still coming?”
For one dangerous moment, Georgi’s face pushes into my thoughts, but I force the thought away and focus on my precious daughter.
“Yes,” I tell her softly. “He’s still coming.”
“When?”
I pause, hating that I have to lie to her. Forcing the smile back to my face, I reply, “Soon.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “You always say soon.”
I tap her nose playfully. “That’s because the prince will come at the exact right time and only he knows when that will be.”
Ivan lets out a snort, which I ignore.
Simi thinks for a moment, then asks, “What if he gets lost, Mama?”
“He won’t.”
“What if he forgets?” she asks another question.
I gather her closer until her head rests on my arm. “He won’t forget us.”
Forgive me for all my lies.
Satisfied, she lifts her hand to my face and traces her fingertip around my eyes, nose, and mouth.
“Mama, do you miss me when I’m gone?”
The urge to cry strikes so hard, I have to blink fast to keep the tears back, and my voice is hoarse as I reply, “Every second of every single day.”
“Even when you eat?”
Nodding, I press a kiss to her chubby cheek.
“Even when you sleep?”
A sad smile touches my mouth as I look into her innocent eyes. “Yes.”
Her fingers play with a lock of my hair while she studies my face. “You look sad, Mama.”
“I’m happy right now,” I answer honestly.
She searches my eyes as if checking whether I’m telling the truth before lifting her small hand to my cheek. Turning my head, I kiss her palm.
For a long while, we lie together, just staring at each other.
“When I grow up big, I’ll protect you,” she whispers as if she’s sharing a secret with me.
I press my mouth to her hair and wrap my arms tightly around her small body. “That’s my job, malka.”
“It will become my job too,” she insists.
I kiss her forehead, then each of her cheeks. Letting my fingers drift through her hair, I can’t stop touching her and savor every second I have with my baby girl.
Simi smiles, sleepy and pleased, then snuggles closer. I hold her until Ivan mutters, “Time’s up.”
Carefully, I get up, lifting my sleeping daughter into my arms. I carry her to the single bed in the other room and softly set her down.
“I love you more than anything, milo moe.” Pressing a kiss to her forehead, my chest fills with unspeakable pain, then I pull away and leave.
When I come down the steps, I hear a heavy footfall behind me and glance over my shoulder. Seeing Boris, I hurry to get out of his way, and as he stalks past me, he grumbles, “Come. I want you to give the bastard truth serum so he’ll talk.”
Shit.
Having no choice but to do as I’m told, I follow my father to the torture chamber.
I avoid looking at Georgi as I rush to the cabinet, and taking the syringe and ampoule out, I attach a needle and get everything ready.
“Tell me what happened at the meeting!” Boris demands from Georgi.
“Nope.”
“Which routes do you use?” Boris asks another question.
“Christ, I’m going to die of boredom long before you decide to kill me.” Georgi’s tone is taunting and blatantly disrespectful.
“Hurry, Nina,” my father snaps, and I jump with fright before I jog closer. I hate myself as I push the needle into the side of Georgi’s thigh, his muscle tensing.
When I step away and dispose of the injection, Georgi keeps his gaze trained on Boris, who chuckles darkly as he sneers, “The truth serum will make you talk.”
My father watches Georgi with the same cruelty he always has when dealing with me.
The chains keeping our prisoner upright rattle when his legs begin to shake.
Standing to the side, I take in the dark bruising covering his torso and back, the sight of it causing a wave of nausea to roll through my stomach.
Boris waits until Georgi’s breathing begins to change before he continues with his interrogation. “Which routes do you use in America and Europe?” Nothing from Georgi. “What was the meeting with Petkov about?” Again, he remains silent.
Boris shouts one question after the other, asking about routes used to move weapons, the contacts who receive shipments on the ground, and the ports the Cosa Nostra uses.
My father sounds more and more agitated as the minutes creep by, without any answers.
I notice instantly when Georgi’s eyes lose focus, and holding my breath, I fist my hands as I watch the serum take effect on him.
Suddenly, it seems as if something unseen takes hold of him and confusion ripples over his features. “No,” he whispers, his tone hoarse.
My heart constricts, and even though Boris asks more questions, I don’t hear them. I’m fully focused on Georgi as he shakes his head harder, panic flaring across his face while his breathing turns ragged.
“Wake up!” he shouts, his voice filled with fear.
My eyebrows draw together, and I lift a hand to my neck.
The chains rattle when he jerks forward as if he’s trying to get to something, the desperation and terror coming from him raising the tiny hairs at the back of my neck.
The drug isn’t making him spill the answers to all the questions, but instead it’s either causing him to hallucinate or to relive a horrible moment from his past.
“Raya!” he shouts as he strains against the shackles. He lunges hard enough for the steel to cut into his wrists, and when one of Boris’s men steps closer, Georgi twists his body with savage expression darkening his features, and he sweeps the guard’s feet from under him. “Get away from her!”
The violence in his voice makes me flinch and take a step backward so he can’t reach me.
Boris shouts more questions about Bulgarian routes and American contacts, but Georgi stares through my father, seeing only whatever nightmare has control over him.
His chest heaves as panic tightens his features again. “It’s too hot,” he whimpers. Then, with a horror that cuts deep into my heart, he mumbles, “They’re dead. I couldn’t wake them.”
He sounds like a child trapped in terror, and it’s one of the saddest things I’ve ever been forced to witness.
When Georgi surges forward again, a wave of danger ripples through the air, and it has Boris stepping closer to me. “The fucking serum is useless.” He swings to me, the back of his hand striking across my cheek, and unable to catch myself, I fall sideways.
“Don’t touch her!” Georgi roars, the chains clanking as he strains against them. “I’ll fucking kill you.”
Boris ignores Georgi and levels me with a cruel glare that promises nothing good for me. “Watch the piece of shit. If he dies, so does Simona.”
When my father leaves, all the guards file out of the room. Martin grips the handle and gives me an evil grin as he begins to pull the door shut. “Good luck with lover boy.”
The moment we’re alone, I scramble to my feet and rush to the cabinet. I grab a clean cloth and quickly wet it under the cold water before hurrying to Georgi.
Breathing raggedly and way too fast, he keeps mumbling words I can’t make out. His legs tremble so violently, I know he’d crumple to the ground if it weren’t for the chains holding him up.
“Georgi,” I say softly, but he doesn’t seem to hear me.
I reach up, trying to wipe the cool cloth over his feverish face, but he jerks his head backward before his body lunges at me. I jump a few steps away, and the chains stop him a hair’s breadth from me.
With his teeth clenched, a growl rumbles from his chest, making intense fear ripple through me.
“It’s Nina,” I squeak fearfully. “I just want to help you.”
Slowly, the darkness in his eyes retreats until he seems to recognize me. His pupils are still blown wide as he searches my face. It looks like he’s trying to figure out what is happening.
“Fire,” he croaks.
I quickly wipe the sweat off his face while saying, “There’s no fire.” Hurrying to the sink, I fill the jug with water and carry it back to him.
When I place my hand on the side of his jaw, he leans into my touch, and I’m so thankful when he drinks all the water.
Some more clarity returns to his eyes, but his breaths are still too fast.
I toss the jug into the sink, where it lands with a clank, while I run to the cabinet to get the blood pressure cuff.
When my gaze touches on the bucket, I decide against it, and knowing the door is locked and he can’t get out, I run to the other side of the room where the chains are locked in place.
Pressing the button of the control mechanism, I watch impatiently as the metal links roll forward, easing the biting hold on Georgi’s arms.
Once he drops to his knees and his arms lower to his sides, I stop and hurry to him. I quickly crouch and fasten the cuff around his bicep.
His muscles keep jumping and trembling from the merciless strain they’ve endured.
As I take his vitals, I feel his eyes burning on my face.
Satisfied that he’s not at risk of having a heart attack, I set the blood pressure cuff aside.
Wanting to help him, I begin to massage his bicep, and giving him a pleading look, I say, “You need to slow down your breathing.”
Georgi leans into me, and when he presses his forehead to mine, I freeze.
“I couldn’t wake them.” His voice breaks toward the end of the sentence, making my heart clench again. “There was smoke everywhere. I couldn’t…” His voice fails him.
Unable to keep back, I wrap my arms around him, supporting his weight when he leans further into me.
Careful not to touch any of the wounds, I try to rub his shoulder blades to ease some of the pain he must be feeling.
At first, his body remains tense, but then he finally relaxes little by little under my touch.
I move my hand through his damp hair and whisper, “It’s over.”
Georgi’s breathing finally returns to normal, and when more of his weight leans into me, I hold him as tight as I can.
“I’m so sorry,” I whimper, my voice barely audible. “For all of it.”
He lifts his head, locking his eyes with mine. “Set me free.”
The urge to cry wells in me as I shake my head. “I can’t.”
He keeps staring at me, then says, “I’ll protect you, Nina.”
The guilt threatens to crush me as I shake my head again.
The chains clank against the floor as he shifts closer, and leaning into me, his mouth brushes near my temple. “Then stay with me,” he murmurs, his speech slurred. “Just for a little while.”
My throat closes, and I hug him again before guiding his head to my shoulder. “Try to sleep.”
Georgi’s body shakes with laughter, the corner of his mouth lifting. “I have to admit, you and Boris make quite the team. You know how to fuck with a man’s head.”
“Shh…” I brush my hand over his hair again. “Just sleep.”
Eventually, more of his weight leans into me, and his breathing evens out.
As I hold Georgi while he rests, I play with the idea of setting him free, even going as far as to imagine how he’ll fight his way out of the mansion.
But then the stark reality that’s my life settles in with the cold in the room.
I won’t free Georgi because Boris will kill Simi and me.