Chapter 2
ALINA
My husband was a monster.
Not one of those sexy, brooding types depicted in dark romance books.
This man was a psychotic, cruel, evil beast of a man who thirsted for blood and power, and I knew it the second I saw him.
I could see it in his eyes and feel it in his touch.
I didn’t want to marry him. I pleaded with my father, begging him not to make me marry him, but he wouldn’t listen.
Our marriage was arranged by the family.
They hoped it would settle grievances and bring peace, and maybe it did. For them.
But it certainly didn’t for me.
It had been hell since the second I said ‘I do’.
I’d tried to make it work.
I dressed the part. I was obedient and obscure. I was only noticeable when he wanted me to be, and I always did what I was told, even when it went against everything ingrained in me. But it didn’t matter what I did or didn’t do. Alek always found a reason to be angry with me.
He thrived on it.
It was like the anger lit up something inside of him and excited him.
He would knock me around like a rag doll, yelling and cursing obscenities over the smallest of things.
Tonight, it was because I hadn’t put enough wine in his glass.
He threw it across the room and charged at me.
I didn’t have a chance to blink before he was on top of me.
It started with a backhanded slap across my cheek, and it quickly escalated.
It always did.
It didn’t matter if I fought back or crumpled to the floor and just took it. He would keep going until he ran out of steam.
I was done playing victim in his story.
I would either get out of this or die trying.
It wouldn’t be easy. My head was pounding so hard I swear I could feel every beat pulse behind my eyes. Every breath scraped through my chest like broken glass. I was pretty sure one of my ribs cracked when he kicked me. Maybe two, but I didn’t dare lift my shirt to look.
If I saw the bruises, I’d break. And I couldn’t break.
Not yet.
I pressed my palm to the wall to steady myself as I rose to my feet.
I could hear his voice in the next room, and always, he sounded like nothing had happened.
Like he hadn’t just dragged me across the floor by my hair and slammed my head against the table because I didn’t put enough wine in his glass.
No more.
I had to get out.
He was going to kill me. Maybe not tonight, but the time would soon come when he wouldn’t stop, and I would bleed out on the marble floor like a stray dog.
My fingers trembled as I pushed my hair back from my face. Breathing hurt. Moving hurt. I could barely think, but I still managed to glance toward the hallway.
The door to his office was closed.
My heart didn’t speed up. It didn’t do anything.
It just sat there in my chest like a dead weight as I turned and quietly made my way to our closet.
I grabbed my suitcase that I’d hidden behind our winter coats and pulled it out.
It still had dust on it. I’d promised myself I’d never use it.
I had my family to think of and swore I’d find a way to survive this—to survive him.
But it was a promise I couldn’t keep. Not anymore.
I’d already filled it with clothes Alek wouldn’t notice were missing, along with several pairs of shoes, and the envelope of money I’d been saving for the past few months. It wasn’t much. I wouldn’t be able to get far, but I didn’t care. Anywhere was better than here.
I left my phone and my wedding ring on the dresser, along with a note that simply said, I’m done.
I placed them where I was sure he would see them, then made my way down the hallway, one slow step at a time.
Every movement sent a dull throb through my ribs, but I didn’t let it stop me.
I kept going. I had no choice but to keep going.
The sound of his voice grew louder as I got closer to his office door. I could tell by his tone that something was wrong. He was growing angry, and whoever he was talking to was going to pay for whatever had happened. If I was still here when he ended the call, it would be me who would pay.
I reached the garage door, and I’d just wrapped my fingers around the door handle when I heard Alek abruptly stop yelling.
Fearing he had ended his call, everything inside me went still.
Panic crawled up my spine like a shadow reaching for my throat, and all I could do was stand there and pray that this wasn’t the end.
I held my breath, and my heart started to race.
The silence was deafening.
I just knew he was about to storm out of his office. And that would be that. My chance to escape would have come and gone.
Then, mercifully, he started yelling again.
I exhaled a shaky breath as I entered the garage and rushed to the SUV.
I tossed my suitcase in the back before sliding behind the wheel.
I pushed the button to open the garage door, then started the engine and slammed my foot on the gas.
The tires screamed against the concrete floor as I tore out of the garage and down the long drive.
The iron gate was still open. I drove through it and didn’t look back.
I made it to the main road, and for one terrible, beautiful second, I felt weightless.
Free.
But even as the cold night air blew in through the cracked window, a dreadful thought sank its claws in deep. Even if I managed to get away, even if I drove until there was nothing left but an empty highway, they would find me, and they would kill me.
At that moment, I didn’t care. I was willing to take the chance because there was no way I was going back to him. Not now. Not ever.
I didn’t drive far.
I couldn’t.
There were trackers on the car, and there was no doubt that Alek would use them to hunt me down.
I had no choice but to abandon it, so I had to get rid of it.
As soon as I made it into the city, I turned down a narrow side street and parked behind an old dumpster.
I turned off the engine and gathered my things, but I left the keys in the ignition.
Someone would steal it. At least, I hoped they would. It would buy me extra time, and right now, I could use all the time I could get. I started down the alley, but I was moving slowly. I couldn’t help it. Every step made my ribs throb, but I pushed forward.
I pulled the hood of my coat up and kept my head down, doing what I could to blend in with the shadows. I walked, block after block, and I kept glancing over my shoulder, making sure I wasn’t being followed.
By the time I reached the bus station, my feet were numb, my head was spinning, and I was struggling to breathe. I stepped up to the ticket counter and slid several folded bills towards the cashier.
“One-way to Chicago,” I said in barely a whisper.
The lady didn’t even look at me. She simply printed the ticket and pushed it towards me as she announced, “Gate 7. They will be loading in a few minutes.”
“Thank you.”
I clutched the ticket in both hands and sat down on a wooden bench near the gate. I stared at the faded map on the wall, tracing the line that would take me halfway across the country. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was making a huge mistake.
I hadn’t spoken to my sister in almost a year, and even then, it wasn’t by choice.
Our parents were killed in a car accident.
While investigators said it was a freak accident and a weak brake line had gone unnoticed, we knew the truth.
It was a hit, and I believed in my heart of hearts that Alek was behind it.
He would never admit it, but he wanted to make sure I had no one to turn to.
I don’t think I carried my suspicions alone.
I think Mila thought the same about Alek, which is why she’d taken such strong measures to keep her distance from me.
She didn’t call. She didn’t write. She didn’t email or text.
She simply pretended that I didn’t even exist, and up until now, I played along.
I had nowhere else to turn.
So, I sat there, bruised and broken, praying that when I finally reached Chicago, she would open the door.
Surely to God, she would open the door.
When the bus pulled up to the gate, I handed the man my ticket and made my way to the back.
A few followed after me, and ten minutes later, we were on our way.
I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t sleep. Every time the bus slowed, or someone shifted in their seat, my eyes flew open, and my heart nearly leapt out of my chest.
I kept expecting the doors to open and Alek to come charging in after me.
But by some miracle, the sun rose, and I made it to Chicago.
I pulled up my hood and got off with the rest of the passengers.
I followed the crowd through the terminal, all the while clutching the handle of my suitcase like it was the only thing holding me together.
My legs were stiff and weak, but I managed to reach the curb and lift my hand.
Seconds later, a taxi pulled up, and I jumped inside.
My voice cracked as I gave him the address, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
He simply put his foot on the gas and drove towards the destination.
We rode in silence, and I was good with that.
I didn’t have it in me to carry on a conversation, so I stared out the window.
We drove past high-rises, traffic lights, and people bundled in coats and scarves, and it all felt so unreal, like I was in a world that wasn’t meant for me. The driver stopped in front of Mila’s apartment, and I got out before I could second-guess myself.
I didn’t even know if she still lived there, but that didn’t stop me from punching in her security code. It wasn’t hard to remember. She always used her birthday, and I prayed she hadn’t changed it. Relief washed over me when the lock buzzed, and I was able to slip inside.
It was early. I had no idea if she was awake or even at home, but I walked up to her door and raised my fist. For a moment, I just stood there, trying to fight all the doubts that were rushing through my mind.
I didn’t know how she would react. She could slam the door in my face or hug me tight. Neither would come as a surprise.
Eventually, I gathered my nerve and knocked.
It was just three quiet taps, but it was enough to cause movement on the other side of the door. I heard footsteps, followed by the sound of the chain sliding back. The door opened, and Mila stepped into view.
She hadn’t changed. She was still as beautiful as ever. She was wearing a t-shirt with sweats and a messy ponytail, and her eyes were wide like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.
“Alina…” she whispered with a blank expression. “What are you doing here?”