Chapter 8 - Riley
It's the same nightmare again, and as it ends, I sit up while crying out. I'm struggling to adjust to the brightness of the room and notice a shadow by the door. I scream in panic and try to scramble to get up.
“It's okay, it's okay,” Viktor says. He hurries over to me and wraps his arms around me. I lean my head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. I feel calmer just at the sound of his voice and knowing it's him in the room with me. I can feel a sob building up inside of me, but I bite it back, breathing hard. I hold on to him tightly and he makes soothing noises. He strokes my hair gently. I'm confused. What is he doing here? Why is he in my room? Did he hear me cry out in my sleep? He must've because he was already in the room.
I let him go slowly.
I feel humiliated. I never want anyone to see me as weak and I feel like I'm at my weakest. I pull away and pull the covers up to my chin, hugging my knees underneath them. “You should go.”
“It's fine,” he says quietly.
I begin to feel irritated. Yes, it's his mansion, and he can go wherever he wants, but what was he doing in my room? Do I have no privacy? He has no right to barge in unannounced! I can feel my face getting hot as I get up, head to the bathroom, and shut the door. I splash cool water on my face and brush my teeth, feeling slightly more awake and human. I feel ready to confront him once I'm dressed. I walk to the closet and shut that door. I go through the designer clothes and make a face. There's nothing here I would wear. Finally, I find some smart pants and a blouse that isn't too fancy, and I get dressed. I need to go get my clothes if I'm going to stay here. I can't wear this stuff.
I comb my hair and tie it back in a neat ponytail before walking out. I'm not surprised to see he's still there, sitting in an armchair in the corner. I begin to pace back and forth. “You have no right to come into my room unannounced. You have no right to barge in all the time and act like that's okay. You're not my keeper. You may be my husband, but you don't own me.” I pause to look at him, and it seems like he's trying to suppress a smile. I glare at him. “It isn't funny. You're making me feel unsafe. How can I feel safe if you're always hovering over me while I sleep? Or barging in when I wake up?”
“You cried out in your sleep. I needed to make sure you were okay,” he says calmly.
“I'm fine,” I snap. “I'm perfectly fine. I did what you wanted, and I married you for my own safety and I am fine. Unless you don't think I'm safe here?”
He chuckles. “I know you're safe wherever I am, but honestly, you don't need to be such a hardass about it.”
“You need to give me privacy. I can't rest knowing you're just going to come in whenever. What if I was naked? What if I had just come out of the shower?”
“Well, that would be a sight,” he teases, and I clench my fists.
“This is not the time for jokes, Viktor. I'm being serious.”
“Are you always so serious?” he asks curiously, that smile still playing on his lips.
I resist the urge to stomp my foot. “Yes, I am. You better get used to it. Sorry, I'm not the fun wife you thought you were marrying.”
“I didn't expect anything from this marriage other than to protect you,” he replies.
I put my hands on my hips. “Well, I expect some privacy.”
“Like I said, you cried out,” he grins. “How was I to know you weren't in danger?”
“You were in the room when I woke up. You were here before I cried out. Don't bullshit me. Why were you watching me?” I ask.
He is dressed simply, but he looks handsome. He's wearing a jumper, cargo pants, and smart shoes. His hair is brushed back out of his eyes. His eyes search mine, and his smile falters.
“Were you having a nightmare? Why don't you tell me about it?”
His sudden seriousness catches me off guard, and I shake my head. “I didn't have a nightmare.”
“You cried out in your sleep. You were obviously having a bad dream,” he says. “If you're having nightmares about what happened to you, then it can only be beneficial to talk them out.”
I turn around and start making the bed.
“The maid will do that,” he says calmly. “You don't have to make your bed to avoid me.”
“I like making beds,” I lie. I never made my bed at Roman's house and I never made it at my college dorm, either. It was perpetually in a state of chaos. I shake out the sheet, tuck it back in, and fix the duvet.
“Tell me about your nightmare,” he says again. “What are you so afraid of?”
“I'm not afraid of anything,” I snap, fluffing up the pillows aggressively. “And I don't need to be psycho-analyzed by a hitman.”
“I'm not a hitman, I'm an enforcer,” he chuckles. “You're clearly traumatized. Why don't you want to talk about it? What did they do to you when they kidnapped you?”
I sit down on the bed and remain silent, not wanting to respond. I'm not sure I could respond if I tried. I feel like I want to cry if I'm honest with myself, but I don't want him to see more tears from me. Not after how I freaked out last night. Or was it this morning? I don't even know what time he barged into my bedroom to demand I marry him.
He stands up and walks over to me, standing in front of me. I stare at his navel, refusing to look into his eyes. He reaches down, puts a finger under my chin, and tips my face up so our eyes meet. “Tell me about your nightmares.”
“Leave,” I say. “I don't want you here.”
I've completely shut down at this point. I don't want anything to do with him.
“Breakfast is waiting for you. I'm in my office. If you need anything, just ask Rachel to show you where it is.”
He walks out of the bedroom, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I'm so glad he's gone, but at the same time, I feel his absence. It was somewhat comforting having him nearby and now that he's left, I feel even more vulnerable than I was. I would never admit that to him though, he would be far too satisfied with that and I am not going to give him an inch of satisfaction.
I wait a good few minutes before I walk out to ensure that he’s gone before I go downstairs to the dining room. As I enter, a young woman comes in from the kitchen. “Hello, Mrs. Milov. I am Rachel. Can I bring you your breakfast and a cup of coffee?”
“Yes, please,” I say. “It's lovely to meet you, but please call me Riley.”
“I have to call you Mrs. Milov. Mr. Milov won't like it any other way,” she says with a warm smile. “But I will bring you something to eat and drink straight away.”
She leaves again, and I sit down, glancing around. There’s artwork on the wall—very abstract pieces. They’re quite colorful, which isn't something I would associate with Viktor. In the corners, there are also suits of armor and cabinets showcasing display pieces. It nearly sparks my curiosity, but I resist the urge to explore for now. I just want to have something for breakfast, and then I'll decide where to go from there. I need to study and improve my grades, but Viktor made me leave all my things at Roman's house. I need to arrange to go get them along with my clothes.
Rachel brings me breakfast and a hot cup of coffee. It's a huge plate of food, and I'm not sure I'm that hungry until I taste it. The food melts in my mouth, and I eat it all, sipping my coffee once I'm finished. Rachel clears the plate and the coffee mug, and I sit there for a moment, not sure what to do next. I suppose the only thing I can do is explore. I get up from the table and exit the dining room. Viktor pointed out where everything was downstairs, so I walk into the living room and take a look around. The television is so large that it feels like I'm in a movie theater. The couches look plush, and I fall onto one. I sink right in and let out a sigh. I could sit here and watch TV while I study. I get up again when I spot a set of French doors and walk over. I open them and step outside. There's a guard nearby, and I wave at him. He nods back at me.
I look around and notice an Olympic-sized swimming pool that someone is busy cleaning. I go over and feel the water and it's warm. Heated, nice. Maybe if I can pick up my bikini, I can have a swim once in a while.
My phone rings and I take it out of the waistband of my pants. It's Gwen.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Thank God you answered. Are you okay?”
“Yes. Yes, I'm fine. Viktor is being very accommodating.”
“I'm so sorry he forced you to marry him,” Gwen says. “I wasn't sure how to even approach the subject.”
“It's fine. His argument made sense. I don't want to be a victim for the rest of my life,” I say quietly. I want her to think that everything is fine, even if it isn't. Maybe she'll believe I'm fine if I'm happy with Viktor's decision to make me marry him.
“So you're okay with it?” Gwen asks skeptically.
“He presented his argument, and I agreed with him,” I say calmly. I try to keep the quiver out of my voice. “And he has an awesome place. I'm going to miss seeing you every day, but we can meet up for lunch or whatever.”
“Yeah, okay. Well, I'll be back in a few days, so if anything happens, or he upsets you, just go back to our place and we'll take it from there,” Gwen says.
“I'm fine,” I reiterate. “Please don't stress about me. Viktor is taking great care of me. He isn't bothering me and he's keeping to himself.”
“Okay, but we'll speak in a few days, anyway. I love you,” she says gently.
“Love you too,” I say before hanging up.
I wander back into the house and go upstairs. There are rooms every which way and I want to go into them, but I realize Viktor is probably in one of them and I'm too mad to even look at him. I go back to my bedroom and lie down on the bed, staring out the window. I have nothing to do, no study materials, and none of my shit. I guess I could try to find a swimming costume in the closet, or I could go downstairs and test out the television. I'm worried Viktor will come in though, and then expect us to have a conversation about my nightmare. I don't want to have that conversation.
I don't even realize as I drift off to sleep.