18. Chapter 18
The Past – approximately 11 years ago
The chandelier”s crystals refract the light, scattering it across the ballroom in a dizzying display. I pause to steady myself, smoothing my hands over the beaded bodice of my gown. The dress cinches too tight, and the heels are too high. Even the air feels perfumed and cloying, threatening to choke me. But this is how he likes me to look, how he insists I present myself. He”d have it no other way, and he always gets what he wants.
Luchenko appears at my side, his smile not reaching his cold eyes. ”You look stunning, meelaya.”
I stiffen, bile rising in my throat at the familiar endearment. This man had once made me feel safe, protected. Now his presence evokes nothing but dread.
”Don”t call me that,” I say sharply. ”You lost the right long ago.”
His expression remains impassive, but his fingers dig into my elbow. ”I”ll call you what I wish. I”ve always admired that defiant streak of yours, meelaya. Makes things more… exciting.”
A shiver goes through me at the thinly veiled threat in his words. I survey the room, taking in the guests” sidelong glances and hushed whispers. They all know I”m nothing but Luchenko”s plaything, a carnal distraction while his precious wife is out of town.
At first, it was embarrassing knowing that they knew. But, after so many parties spent embarrassed, shrinking like an expired flower in the corner of the room, shying away from the rumors, I decided to embrace it. To play the part of Luchenko”s love interest, holding his hand and hanging off his arm and every word at these types of events.
Because it was much easier that way, I quickly learned. Luchenko has a massive ego, and having a young and attractive woman constantly by his side is part of the persona that he”s so carefully curated. While his wife is out of town, at least.
At first, I was pampered. The finest clothing, jewels, food. Even a couple of vacations that were well-timed with his wife being off on extended family trips. He paid for everything I needed, no questions asked.
And I accepted the gifts, because I”d always had nothing and finally I had something.
And that felt really, really good.
But after only a month or so, everything changed. The world shifted on its axis.
My period didn”t come.
I”d lost quite a lot of weight very quickly, because I know Luchenko prefers his women on the thinner side, so initially I put it down to that. But after a couple of weeks, there was still no sign and I started to notice subtle changes in my body. My breasts ached, my skin seemed different.
And deep down, I just knew.
Of course, it was hard to keep the pregnancy a secret. As my body continued to change, Luchenko noticed my growing belly and breasts. It”s hard to hide the nausea caused by morning sickness. And, of course, he noticed I didn”t have my period. Finally, he had his doctor visit and he confirmed my state.
The birth of our daughter only tightened Luchenko”s hold. We called her Yara, which I told him means ”small butterfly”, which is true. But what I didn”t share is that it also means ”strong”.
Because I knew she would need to be strong, just like I would.
Luchenko immediately saw her as a possession, a means of controlling me. The thought of him molding her young mind, twisting it as he had my own...it made me ill.
Before, it was just me. He could hurt me, threaten me. Even threaten to hurt my mother, withholding her access to medications and restricting her food rations.
But with Yara here now, it”s changed his sick game. He now has this thing to hold over me—this vulnerable being—and I”ve found myself completely at his mercy.
Trapped. The word echoes in my mind. But not for much longer. I will find a way out of this gilded cage, even if I have to claw my way free.
I force myself to smile, though it feels more like a grimace. ”If you admire me so much, why do you insist on parading me around like one of your possessions?”
Luchenko”s grip on my arm tightens painfully. When he speaks, his voice is a low rumble meant only for me.
”Never forget who you belong to. All of this—” he gestures around the opulent ballroom ”—exists because I allow it. And I can take it away just as easily.”
I meet his cold gaze unflinchingly, anger simmering in my veins. ”I belong to no one. Least of all you.”
His eyes narrow. For a moment, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses faded away. There is only Luchenko”s hulking presence before me, his scarred face inches from mine.
When he smiles, it”s the expression of a predator spotting vulnerable prey. ”Such spirit. I enjoy taming you. In fact, I find it one of my most satisfying pastimes.”
Revulsion roils in my stomach, and I force myself not to recoil.
I will not let him see my fear.
With effort, I extract myself from his bruising grip. ”If you”ll excuse me, I need some air.”
I don”t wait for his response before turning on my heel. The sound of my footsteps clicking across the marble floor matches the rapid pounding of my heart.
These exquisite surroundings have become a death trap. And I will free myself from it, no matter the cost.
I stride out onto the balcony, the night air raising goosebumps on my bare arms.
Behind me, the muted sounds of the gala continue, a constant reminder of the prison I”ve found myself trapped in.
Out here, away from Luchenko”s smothering presence, I can finally breathe.
But each inhale is tinged with fear.
Fear for myself, and the future that lies ahead for me and my daughter. Luchenko”s daughter.
Luchenko”s thinly veiled threats echo in my mind.
”Your aesthetic appearance has little to do with my plans for you and our daughter”s futures. Beauty fades with time, and that”s what initially attracted me to you, I”ll admit, but it”s not why I want you now. I have other uses planned for you.”
His words chill my veins, goosebumps breaking out all over my arms and chest.
The thought of Yara at Luchenko”s mercy makes my blood run cold. I have to find a way out of this, for both of us. But how?
I stare out at the city lights twinkling below me. We”re so high up, untouchable in Luchenko”s ivory tower. Just one of the many ways he keeps me under his control.
The sound of approaching footsteps makes me stiffen.
I don”t need to turn around to know it”s him. Luchenko moves with the self-assured gait of a man accustomed to dominating any space he enters.
When he speaks, his voice is deceptively gentle. ”The night air hasn”t chilled you, I hope?”
His solicitude is a lie. I know the monster that lurks beneath his charming fa?ade.
”I”m fine,” I say tightly. ”I”d like to be alone.”
Ignoring my words, he comes closer, crowding me against the balcony railing.
I force myself not to shrink away.
”So spirited,” he murmurs. ”I admire that in you, meelaya. But you forget your place.”
His hand settles on my lower back in a mockery of intimacy, the gesture that young women are taught mean a man is taking care of us, guiding us as if we need a man to help us safely navigate the precarious balance of life. To steer us from room to room.
To keep us out of trouble and away from the threat of hysteria and other ”womanly issues”.
Disgust rises in my throat, but I swallow it down.
”And what place is that?” I challenge.
Luchenko”s answering smile is slow, possessive. ”At my side, as my devoted wife. In my home. In my bed.” His hand slides lower in emphasis. ”Precisely where you belong.”
Rage burns through me, overpowering my fear. I shove him back with all my strength.
”I will never be your wife. You already have one of those, you”ve made that clear. And you will never have me, or my daughter, again.”
For a moment Luchenko looks amused by my defiance. Then his expression hardens.
”Take care, Alina,” he says softly. ”You try my patience.”
I turn away but he reaches out and grips my chin, forcing me to meet his cold gray eyes.
”You belong to me. Never forget that.”
With that, he releases me and strides back inside, the echo of his footsteps ringing with grim finality.
I let out a shaky breath, wrapping my arms around myself.
I have to escape. Tonight has made one thing clear—Luchenko will never let me go willingly, and when he finds out about my condition the stakes are only going to get higher.
I look out once more at the city lights, steeling my resolve. Whatever it takes, I will find a way out.
I take a deep breath to steady my nerves before slipping back into the opulent ballroom. The laughter and chatter wash over me, a discordant backdrop to my churning thoughts.
Luchenko is nowhere to be seen. I”m not sure if that”s a relief or even more unsettling.
His presence always looms, whether he”s at my side or not.
I navigate through the sea of glittering gowns and tailored suits, keenly aware of the covert glances and hushed whispers following my passage. To them, I”m an object of fascination, the infamous mistress of the powerful crime lord. An outsider.
A server passes with a tray of champagne flutes and I snag one, taking a bracing sip. The bubbles do little to calm my nerves, and I feel guilty for imbibing alcohol that could compromise my judgement. But emotions threaten to overwhelm me, and so I decide to sip instead of cry.
After all, Luchenko doesn”t like his mistresses to make a scene.
As I wander, fragments of conversations reach my ears.
”...shipments coming in from the docks tomorrow night...”
”...new territory in the south side...”
I pause as a familiar laugh rings out.
Craning my neck, I spot Luchenko”s lieutenant, Viktor, holding court with a group of men. His cruel eyes glint with malice as he regales them with some tale.
”...and the little girl screamed for her mother as I squeezed...”
My blood turns to ice.
Viktor”s grin only widens at their raucous laughter, the monsters.
Bile rises in my throat. I have to get away from here. Away from them. It”s not just about me anymore.
I quicken my pace toward the exit, no longer caring who notices my hasty departure.
All I can think about is getting out of here.
I have to escape Luchenko”s web, no matter what it takes. For both our sakes.
With a deep breath, I step back out onto the balcony, the cool night air raising goosebumps on my bare arms. Below me, the city sprawls out in a glittering expanse, deceptively peaceful from this distance.
If I stare long enough, I can almost pretend I don”t know the ugliness lurking in its shadows.
Almost.
I shiver, rubbing my hands over my arms. How have I let things spiral so far out of control?
Memories of those early days with Luchenko come unbidden, when his charm and lavish gifts had blinded me to the darkness simmering underneath. He was there for me when nobody else was, provided me with things I never dreamed of.
And I was sucked in, thirsty for a life outside of the oppressive darkness. Believing that I could have more, that I somehow deserved more.
But that came with a catch that I was initially too blind to see.
By the time his true nature emerged, it was too late.
I was caught in his web, bound by threats both spoken and unspoken.
The mother of his youngest child.
As I gazed out at the city lights, an idea begins to form.
Luchenko”s empire may be vast, but it”s not absolute. There have to be cracks, weaknesses I can exploit.
I just need help, allies outside his sphere of influence. Someone who can shelter Yara and I, and hide us beyond his reach.
The first step will be discreetly reaching out, making contact without raising suspicion. It won”t be easy or without risk.
But I have to try, for my daughter”s sake. For her future.
With this silent vow made under the night sky, I gather my resolve. I will find a way to cut free of Luchenko”s web. No matter what it takes.
The allyship comes from the most unexpected of places. Luchenko”s wife, Marie.
When she first approaches me, I”m dubious. For a moment, I think she might even try to take my baby.
But I soon learn that Marie is fierce and doesn”t appreciate being humiliated repeatedly by Luchenko. We have more in common than I think either of us realized.
I no longer want to be in Luchenko”s grasp, and she doesn”t want me there either. She wants me out of their lives.
And my pregnancy and Yara”s birth have only expedited her need for me to be well out of the picture. As it turns out, Marie is infertile. Seeing me with her husband”s baby is like salt in a deep wound.
After prolonged negotiations, they come to a stalemate.
Luchenko lets me live my life away from his grasp, raising Yara.
This solves Marie the embarrassment of having his illegitimate love child paraded around in front of the world.
She”s not stupid enough to think many people won”t see right through it, based on timing alone, but it seems more palatable than having this baby thrown in her face.
So we”re thrown out on the streets, discarded.
I sneak us in and stay with my mother whenever I can, but the rules are strict in her assisted living accommodation, and there”s a high risk that by allowing us in she could be thrown out herself, with no place to go.
Her situation is more tenuous than mine. I”m relatively young, strong and resourceful. Mother, however, is elderly, somewhat frail despite her strength of spirit, and she needs medicine that”s almost impossible to access while living on the streets.
Yet, despite being tossed aside like a piece of trash, I know that Luchenko still thinks about me. Obsesses about me.
He keeps track of my whereabouts, and from time to time I notice his men trailing me. No doubt reporting back.
I know beyond a doubt that Luchenko sees Yara as his possession. And that it”s only a matter of time before he decides to take back what he believes is his.