8. Emily
8
EMILY
After the makeup artist had washed my vomit out of my hair and reapplied my makeup, the seamstress returned with what I’ll be wearing for the wedding.
To call it a dress is an overstatement. It’s nothing more than a tiny piece of fabric that leaves practically everything exposed. The plunging neckline dips so low that my belly button is visible. The back is entirely exposed, I have the suspicion that if I make even the slightest motion forward, I risk exposing my underwear.
To add insult onto injury, I’m shoved into six-inch stiletto heels that are almost impossible to walk in.
I know why Domenico insisted on forcing me to wear this costume.
He intends to make good on his threat.
For the rest of the day, I’ve been pushed back into the basement, but this time, Alisa wasn’t there anymore. I shudder to think what fresh hell she’s being subjected to. But as I wait in the basement, I keep staring at the door, fearful of what might be waiting for me on the other side.
It’s been hours since I was brought back down, and a thin sheer of sweat have trickled down the side of my ribs as I wait.
Suddenly, my thoughts are punctuated by the sound of a deep boom . Then another, and another. It takes me a moment to realize what I’m hearing.
Explosions.
My heart leaps into my throat as I realize what must be happening.
Konstantin is here!
Another muffled explosion reverberates overhead, and I jerk up at the ceiling as a trail of dust falls down. Will he be able to find me here? I have no idea how big this mansion is, but it certainly felt massive when I was first brought in.
Kicking the ridiculous stiletto heels off, I rush upwards for the door and start pounding on it.
“Konstantin!” I scream, hoping that he might hear me.
As I scream, Domenico’s voice starts whispering in my head.
Do you really believe that he will come for you? For his sister, yes. Without a doubt in the world. But you?
Fuck that. I know Konstantin is coming for me.
He has to.
The sound of gunfire grows louder and louder, and I throw my weight against the door. But it will only swing inward. Without a handle on my side, all I get for my efforts is pain radiating through my shoulders. But I refuse to be deterred and I try again.
And again.
And again.
Muffled voices—now Italian, now Russian—sound on the other side, punctuated periodically by the sound of gunfire. My heart leaps to my throat. Konstantin is close! I know it !
“KONSTANTIN!” I shriek again when the sounds fall silent.
And that’s when I hear it. The sound of something tapping on the door, and then, a deep voice on the other side that rumbles in my chest.
“Emily?”
Tension breaks in my core at the sound of Konstantin’s voice, and I can’t help the tears of relief flooding down my face.
“I’m in here!” I cry out.
“Stand back!” He yells on the other side, and I quickly rush down the stairs.
An explosion—clear and crisp—tears through the space as soon as I reach down the stairs. Wood splinters fly in all directions as smoke and dust fills the space of the basement.
I turn and look up, and I see Konstantin standing there in the doorway, clad in black and rifle in hand like an angel of death.
A small gasp of gratitude tumbles from my throat as I stare up at him.
He’s here! He’s here! He’s actually here!
He slings the rifle over his shoulder and races down the stairs as I get up from the floor and throw myself into his powerful arms. The smell of soap and aftershave, mixed with the scent of smoke and blood, overwhelms my nostrils. His warmth envelops me as he kisses my face through a haze of tears.
All at once, the dam breaks and I find myself ugly crying into his arms. Deep choking sobs shake my body and he pulls me even closer.
“I thought you might never come for me,” I stammer after a few moments .
“What are you talking about?” He says as he buries his face in my hair. “I would never leave you.”
“Alisa …” I glance up fearfully. “Is she?”
“She’s okay.” He nods. “The helicopter is coming. We’re going home.”
Sweeping me in his arms, he carries me up from the basement in his arms. Three men nod at him as he passes. All around me is the smell of smoke and gunpowder. Every once in a while, I can spot a splatter of blood on the walls and a body not too far from it.
I turn and focus my gaze on Konstantin as he carries me outside, memorizing his features as if this might be the last time I see him.
His thick mahogany hair is mussed up from effort. His long, tan neck is coated in dirt and grime. Those ice-blue eyes of his are glimmering with a raging sea of emotions. His full lips are drawn in a tight line. And the tiny mole below his right eye seems to bob with every step.
He carries me onto the lawn and into the helicopter waiting for us. As soon as I’m seated, he grabs a blanket and drapes it over me.
Gravity shifts, and the helicopter jerks into the sky. Outside, the mansion perched atop the cliff is ablaze. I turn my face away and my eyes find Alisa sitting across from me. She’s crying too, and her tears trigger my own.
Slowly, I reach out, take her hand in mine, and give her a heartfelt reassuring squeeze. She nods back and both of us are thinking the exact same thing without needing to speak another word to each other.
We’re going home.