Chapter 8 - Katya #2
I can’t let myself begin to believe there’s anything gentle or kind about Sergey. Not after everything he has orchestrated already.
Then, he releases me and takes a step back.
“Enjoy your room, Kat…and try not to destroy it too much.”
With a touch of smugness lingering in the room through his absence, the door closes behind him with a soft click, locking me in again.
As my rage bubbles to the surface, I can’t force back the half-scream, half-yell that bursts from my mouth the moment I’m left alone.
That anger is unlike anything else I’ve felt in a long time, and letting it out on the pillows does nothing to sate me.
I hate him. I hate him more than I’ve ever hated anyone before.
And beyond that, I hate how that small part of me can’t stop questioning his motives and what he could gain from all of this. I shouldn’t care.
But something in me can’t help it.
***
Despite waking up after what feels like no time at all, it’s like I didn’t sleep at all.
But the moment my eyes open, I immediately see that maddening grin of his in my mind, and it makes my head spin.
Even if it had only been the two of us and his lawyer in that office, the way he forced my hand was humiliating. Dehumanizing.
I always feared the ways my autonomy might’ve been taken away from me at my father’s hands, then Yuri’s, but I never thought it would happen on a stranger’s whim. I never imagined it would happen after pulling myself away from this life.
But even if it had been something that lingered in the back of my mind, I didn’t think it would actually happen.
Not seeing an end to my lock-up in sight just yet, I linger in bed, watching as the room slowly gets brighter.
Then, the door opens.
I expect it to be Sergey, but two maids in spotless uniforms file in carrying various shopping bags from high-end stores I haven’t blinked at in years. Some I never let myself even consider going to. All the luxury brands a spoiled teen would beg for.
Sitting up like someone has broken in, my brows pinch together. “What is this?”
One of the women gives me a polite smile while the other begins placing the bags and boxes down. “Things for you.”
My confusion deepens. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”
Her expression softens slightly as she picks up on my misunderstanding. “It was arranged for you.”
Before I can question who, they start taking some of the bags over to the walk-in closet, seemingly unpacking everything for me.
“Stop…take it back. I don’t want any of this,” I try to tell them, but they don’t react in the slightest.”
Then, Sergey walks in while he adjusts his cuffs. His gaze briefly moves over me from where I remain in bed, still dressed in yesterday’s outfit that screams rags in comparison. This obvious power dynamic seems to amuse him.
“They’re just doing their jobs,” he says simply with a touch of innocence. “Since you live here now, you need clothes.”
I had every reason to assume he didn’t just fly me out here for some kind of vacation, but that statement still hits me hard anyway.
Living with…him.
The thought alone makes my stomach drop.
Somehow, Sergey saying it out loud only makes it feel more real.
“Excuse me?”
Sergey doesn’t bother to hide the intent behind his eyes, or the way he takes me in like I’m something he owns. His lips pull slightly. “As you said before, I didn’t put enough effort into my plan, so consider that error mended.”
The claim and reality of the situation make me want to hurl.
“You’re under my protection now, Kat. That means you need to dress accordingly, move accordingly, and breathe accordingly,” he says, sounding so confident with every word, almost like it should be obvious by now. “My wife can do better than jeans and a tank top.”
Before I know it, I’m pushing out of bed and reaching my feet. “I’ll burn every last piece.”
“You can try, but I’ll just replace them,” he counters smoothly, like the thought doesn’t bother him at all.
I deadpan. “You can’t be serious.”
“Entirely,” Sergey murmurs, taking a few steps closer. “I’m always serious about what’s mine.”
That word burns as it echoes in my mind, filling the silence that surrounds me. I swear, even the maids freeze.
As much as I want to, I don’t pull away. “Just because you forced me into this doesn’t mean I’m yours. I don’t belong to you.”
He smiles without taking my words into consideration, but it lacks softness. Instead, it’s the kind that says he knows exactly what he’s doing, and this is a game he’s more than willing to play.
“I wouldn’t be so sure.”
With an almost suffocating tension in the room, the maids excuse themselves, leaving the two of us to fester in it.
Unashamed, Sergey looks me over again, but he doesn’t comment on the sight of me. Instead, he stays quiet, leaving the floor open for me.
There are so many words I could sling at him. So many scathing things I could use against him. But I’m tired. I don’t want to keep living this nightmare any longer than I have to.
“I want my life back,” I tell him, voice quieter than I expect. “I want my garage, my space, and my freedom…I didn’t ask for this.”
At first, the subtle, barely noticeable shift in his gaze makes me wonder if he’s considering my words. If he’s seeing me as more than a prop or an object.
But Sergey sighs. “I want peace and numerous other things, but we don’t always get what we want.”
Talking to him seems so pointless, but I can’t stop myself from trying to appeal to him anyway. At the very least, to get him to see at least one flaw in his plan. “You can’t just keep me here.”
This doesn’t even stir him. “I can and I will for as long as it takes.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “How long it takes to do what?”
He leans forward a bit, as if to inspect me further. “To remind your brother he isn’t invincible, and that he should tread lightly.”
“Is that really it? You have to go through all of this just to prove that point?” I ask, losing all patience with his ridiculous thinking. “Wouldn’t your guns and force be more efficient? You certainly didn’t have an issue using them on my dad.”
Sergey pauses at that, as if I’ve poked at something I shouldn’t have. Then he bristles. “You make it all sound so simple, but if you must know, it is more than that.”
“So what, is it about honor then? Being strategic just to prove how clever you are?”
He visibly tenses at this, and I know I’ve struck a nerve. But even as he turns to leave, I can’t stop myself.
“It doesn’t matter how long you try to keep me here. I won’t stop trying to escape or make your life any easier,” I tell him, holding as much venom as I can muster. “You’ll have to kill me before I accept any of this bullshit plan of yours.”
Sergey pauses in the doorway, and after a beat, he looks at me over his shoulder.
“I don’t want to kill you, Kat,” he says softly, catching me off guard. “I want to keep you.”
As his words stun me on the spot, he continues, leaving the room as the door closes behind him.