Chapter 23 - Masha
I didn’t see Anatoli at all after my desperate attempt to kill him.
Was he lying about his plans? Was he lying about my guards?
My heart had soared when he told me that August and Vik were still alive, but did I dare believe it was true?
I had to concede he was a master at the psychological game, but what did he have to gain from putting my mind at ease?
It didn’t bear thinking about, because my mind wandered to all sorts of horrible places, when it wasn’t betraying me by remembering the feel of his hands on my body.
After a couple of days, it started to feel like I missed him, which meant I was truly going over the deep end.
That was what he must want, so I couldn’t let it happen.
Not when I had deduced that he was planning to team up with the Collective against my family. Most of his family in Russia were for the idea of joining with the international gang, and if Anatoli actually decided to go ahead, they’d be an unstoppable force, and my family would be decimated.
My skin prickled every time I thought about it, but what could I do about it, locked up like a princess in a tower?
The only small consolation was that eventually the Collective would turn on Anatoli and his family, before turning on each other.
Organizations like that never lasted, but what did it matter in the long run if everyone and everything I cared about was gone?
I was stuck in my suite, with only a guard bringing me food three times a day.
They were nice meals, actually full of my favorites, so Anatoli’s intent wasn’t to starve me to death, anyway.
It was the same guard every time, and I wondered if he was new or had done something wrong to end up with babysitter duty.
He wasn’t Russian, and when he sullenly waited by the door for me to finish so he could take the tray away, I decided to try to befriend him and test his loyalty a little.
His name was Diego, and he was very receptive to my overtures, proving he might be useful.
I had a pretty good eye for bad apples, and this guy was clearly just cashing a paycheck and would turn against Anatoli at the first hint of a better offer.
I still had to assume he was playing me and answering back to Anatoli, so I kept things light, nothing that could get me in trouble.
If Diego took my friendliness for flirtatiousness, that was on him.
Almost immediately, I knew he was bad news, and even as desperate as I was for an ally, it wasn’t going to be Diego.
During his lunch visit on the second day, he came into my room and sat on the bed, staring at me with a glint in his eyes that I didn’t like at all.
I jokingly asked if his boss would mind him acting so familiar around his wife, and he laughed, saying everyone knew we weren’t really married.
“The marriage is very real,” I snapped, bristling. Maybe for my own protection, maybe for his.
“But you’d leave if you could,” he said, half a question, half an offer.
So I knew I had a shot at getting out, but I also recognized this was a classic case of jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.
I reeled it back in, icing him out, but he wouldn’t take the hint.
I was anxious about what might happen at dinner time, and was relieved to see it was a different guard.
I didn’t say a word to him and hoped Diego was gone for good.
He wasn’t. The next morning, he was back in my room, walking back and forth and staring as I tried to eat. Waiting and worrying seemed to burn a lot of calories, and while I was trying to exercise in the room, I could almost feel my strength waning.
“You can take this and go,” I said, pushing away the unfinished French toast and sausage.
“But we haven’t even talked,” he said, sitting on my bed again.
The door was open, but the hall outside was silent. For all I knew, we were the only two people in the house. He was a big guy, well-muscled and more importantly, armed, and I had no idea how good he was with a weapon. Could I get his firearm away from him? Would I need to?
Where the hell was Anatoli?
“Well, there’s not much to talk about,” I said, staying in my chair even when he patted the bed. Was he actually stupid?
“I think I know what you want to talk about,” he continued, his eyes narrowing when I didn’t comply.
Really, who the hell did he think he was?
I had half a mind to try to make a break for it just to find Anatoli and tell him what one of his employees was up to.
“I can easily get you out. And I wouldn’t ask for much in return. ”
Sure, he wouldn’t. “You’re treading dangerous ground,” I said, waving my arm around.
The irony wasn’t lost on me. I had wanted to find someone who held no loyalty to Anatoli and ended up with someone who was as ruthless as my husband, just with less power.
Someone like Diego was hungry for power, even if it was only over one person.
He shook his head. “The room’s not bugged.” Okay, that was good to know. I still frowned at him and refused to speak. “You’ll come around,” he said with a leer, finally taking the tray and leaving.
“God, I hate him,” I sighed, wishing for a brief moment that the room was bugged.
He didn’t return for lunch. No one did. While I could certainly skip a meal without any dire consequences, it was a clear message. Diego thought he was going to coerce me to leave with him, and I didn’t think for a second it was to try to ransom me back to my family.
My last hope to get out of this place and back home had turned to dust before my eyes.
It had never been a great plan, but I wasn’t given much to work with.
There wasn’t even anything in my room that I could use as a weapon against Diego.
It struck me like a knife to the heart that the whole thing was a ruse that Anatoli set up to trick me, make me afraid, or worse, get my hopes up and then dash them.
That day I got no dinner, either. I pounded on the door, but no one answered.
When no breakfast arrived the next day, real worry set in.
Was this the means of my demise? It seemed too petty and too slow for Anatoli’s liking, but it was right up his alley to make me fearful of it.
Still, I wished I could see him, if for no other reason than to tell him what I thought of him and his incompetent employees.
I was good and hungry when the door swung open at dinner time.
My hands shook despite conserving my energy.
It had been well over twenty-four hours without food, and I had barely picked at the last breakfast I was offered.
The smell of grilled meat and fresh bread coming from the tray that Diego held hit me like a brick.
There was no way I’d let him see how much I wanted that food, and stayed sitting in my chair with my notebook open in my lap, my pencil curled in my fist, pointed end out.
“You can leave it and go,” I said, as if I didn’t care either way.
“I don’t think so,” he said, stepping in and closing the door behind him. This was a first, and I didn’t like it. Not one bit. “Tonight, you’re going to pay for your meal.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, rising, keeping the pencil in my fist but out of sight.
Diego put the tray on the desk and turned to me, crossing the room in a few quick strides. His hands were on me as he pulled me roughly to him. “You know what I mean. Stop pretending you don’t want me.”
I stabbed him as hard as I could with the pencil, aiming for the carotid artery in his neck, but with his grip on my arms, I only got him in the shoulder.
He shoved me backwards, my head smacking into the wall.
I heard a ripping noise—my shirt. With a snarl, I headbutted him, rearing back to do it again, pleased I saw his lip was bloody now.
But his eyes were full of fury, mixed with sick desire.
His hand went to my throat, squeezing slowly. I kicked at him, but he was too close; I couldn’t get any momentum or force, and he only laughed as he kept squeezing. As my vision wavered with lack of oxygen, I remembered his gun and reached for his side. There was nothing in his holster.
“Do you think I’m stupid?” he asked. “I know who you are.”
The door flew open, and I used every last bit of my remaining strength to heave him backwards. He barely budged, but a loud crack rang out, and he fell to the floor. A stream of blood trickled from the tidy hole in the side of his head.
I shoved away from the dead body at my feet and sank into my chair, weak from both hunger and just about being strangled to death.
Anatoli stood in the doorway, calmly putting away his gun and already calling for someone to take care of the body.
My throat was too raw to say a word as he gave me a long, unreadable look.
He finally stepped into the room, grabbed my arm, and dragged me over Diego’s corpse and down the hall.
His grip was like steel, his eyes were like ice. He didn’t say a single word.
When I tried to explain, he gripped tighter, shoved harder, sending me into a stunned silence.
Oh God, this was it. He was finally done with me.