Chapter 5 Mila
MILA
The guard shoves me through the doorway, and I stumble forward into darkness as the door slams behind me and the latch clicks.
I catch myself against the wall and stand there huffing while my eyes try to adjust. There's almost no light coming from anywhere.
A thin line under the door, that's it, and I'm so angry.
I spent the entire drive arguing with that horrible man about propriety, and it doesn't matter that we live in a civilized society with rules and laws.
All he cares about is that I owe him some figurative debt because I took something that already belonged to me.
And now I'm powerless to defend myself or go for help because he "owns" me.
I should have seen it coming. All of it. The moment Vera smiled at me and handed me that invitation, I should've known she was setting me up to fail, but I was so desperate to belong somewhere that I walked straight into it like an idiot. Now this?
I yank the door back open and the same man is standing there with his arms over his chest, which is puffed out as he stares down at me.
"Yes?" he says and glowers down his nose.
I scream and growl at the same time and slam the door in his face, then lean against it and feel so defeated, I could cry again.
I'm not a crier, but I did let a few tears sneak out in the car as that ogre shoved me in.
I'm just so pissed at the injustice of it all.
There's no doubt in my mind that all of this was a setup and that my stepmother is probably so pleased with herself for working out how to get me out of her hair.
The anger thrumming through my body is so loud, I almost don't hear the movement behind me.
It's startling, but a light flicks on in the distance and I see a girl younger than me holding something out.
"Here. You'll be cold down here…" She holds out a sweater in my direction, but it's still too dark where I'm at to see much.
"Where are we?" I ask, and she gestures for me to follow her as I take the garment from her.
"This is our quarters, though it's the back entrance we don't use. And don't mind Yegor. He's a brute, but once you get to know him, he's actually not so bad." She turns and starts walking, and I stare after her for a second before my feet register that I'm supposed to go with her.
I'm clearly not getting out that door, anyway, not with Yegor there, so I splay my hand on the cool stone wall and follow her into the darkness toward the light at the end of this tunnel-like hallway.
At the end we enter a very normal-looking bedroom, though it has bunks like a dormitory and not one large bed like a single bedroom.
We turn a corner into a room where three women sit around a small table with mugs in front of them.
They all look up when we come in, and this woman was right.
It's chilly in here. All four of them are wearing sweaters like it's winter, even though spring has already warmed things up outside.
"Sit down," one of them says. She's older, gray hair pulled back. "Sara, get her some tea."
I sit as the girl who brought me the sweater moves to a kettle on the counter and starts pouring.
I pull the sweater on over my dress, and it's too big, but I don't care.
It softens the bite of the chill in the air down here.
This must be an old slave's quarters from decades ago that Roman had transformed into a staff bedroom.
"I'm Sorin," the older woman says. "This is Rebecca. You already met Sara. What's your name?"
"Mila," I mutter, but I've already decided internally that I like these women. They're not like Roman and his muscle. I've been here less than five minutes and they've welcomed me with kindness and hospitality. Though, I'd rather be shown the door and given passage home.
"Where are you from, Mila?" Rebecca asks. She's maybe in her thirties with dark hair and a kind face.
My mind toys with telling them how Vera set me up and why I'm really here, but they don't know Vera or my father. I don't want to come across as whiny and bitter. "Roman hired me to work here," I say, and I wonder which of these women has also been forced to work the way he's doing to me.
"Good," Sorin grunts. "We need the help. This place is too big for just the four of us." It makes the other ladies chuckle and sip their tea.
Sara sets a cup in front of me and I wrap both hands around it.
I have half a mind to wait until everyone is sleeping and try to find my way out of here, but it's late and it's dark outside and whether I like it or not, I'm not really welcome in my own home.
Sure, I could go there, but Vera hates me.
It's only a matter of time before she sends me away anyway.
She wants Papa's money and the power that comes with running the family.
Maybe I'm not cut out to lead, after all.
"He's fair," Rebecca says, and I look up at her.
"Who?" I ask, curious what she's talking about.
"Roman pays on time and doesn't ask for anything unreasonable. You'll like working for him." Rebecca nods her head graciously and takes a long, slow pull from her tea mug.
Sorin laughs. "He's particular about how things are done, but once you learn his way it's easy. And he's never yelled at any of us."
That doesn't sound like the man I met today, but maybe both versions of him are true. It might just depend on whether you steal from him or not. I guess I drew the short end of the stick on that one.
"How long have you all worked here?" I ask.
"Five years for me," Sorin says. "Came from another household in the city. The pay's better here and the work is lighter."
"Three years," Rebecca adds. "My previous employer went to prison and I needed work fast. Roman hired me the day I came to ask and put me to work instantly. He was so kind."
Sara grins. "Two years. I was sixteen and had nowhere to go, and Sorin brought me here. Roman didn't even hesitate. He's sort of like a father to me now. He says he'll pay for my college when I'm ready."
They all look at me like they're expecting my sob story of Roman taking me in too, but the truth conflicts with their reality.
"I'm grateful to be here," I say, which isn't exactly a lie.
I'm grateful I'm not dead and I'm grateful to be this far away from Vera with a roof over my head.
I'm not sure about being someone's maid, though it doesn't sound as bad as being a slave or something, and he could've just killed me.
"You'll have a bed with us," Sara says. She leans against the counter, looking at me with open curiosity.
"We share a room. It's not big but it's warm and the beds are decent.
It's part of our pay for working here too.
If we had to pay for our own housing in this economy, we'd be destitute, but we do alright. "
"Better than most places," Rebecca adds. "And Roman doesn't bother us when we're off duty. Some employers think they own your whole day. He doesn't."
I sip my tea while they share stories of how amazing Roman is, how he saved them from a harder life.
None of them are very educated, at least not like I am.
Papa put me through finishing schools and I've been carrying the coursework of several college classes, which I'm sure will never be finished now.
Roman might be a nice guy, but he doesn't like me.
I stole from him. No way he's going to let me go off to college to finish my degree while he's forcing me to pay off my debt to him.
When a yawn escapes my mouth, evidence of how stressed out I've been today, Sara perks up.
"Girls, she's sleepy…" She rises and starts picking up the tea mugs.
"I'm okay, really," I tell them, because I can't fathom lying in a bed in this house trying to sleep at all. My mind won't shut off, and I'll be torturing myself for hours anyway.
"Nonsense, it's almost the witching hour.
" Sorin stands and spreads her hands down her apron.
"We'll be up at the crack of dawn to get breakfast on.
We need our rest." She bobs her head at the others, and they stand and start shuffling around, but I have no clue what I'm doing.
I sit there like a bump on a log feeling lost as they move to separate dressers and weave around each other in the small space.
Sara sets the tea mugs in the sink and comes back to me, taking my hand as I rise from the chair.
"You'll have your pick. There's a full bunk free…
" She nods at the far wall, in the corner farthest from the door we came through, but as we walk that way, I see another door, closer to the bed.
"When Sonya left, this bed opened up. She got married," she says dreamily, and then, "so you can choose top or bottom. "
I swallow hard as I stare at the narrow, cot-like mattresses on a simple wooden frame and sigh. They're so simple, just slabs of foam so thin, I know my hips and back will hurt tomorrow, and I'm only twenty-two. How do these women do it every night?
At home I have a queen-sized bed made of down feathers and inner springs, on a four-poster bed frame with sheers draped around it to block out some light as the sun rises. I guess that's not going to be a problem in this tiny dungeon they call a bedroom, but it just doesn’t feel like home.
"Problem?" Sara asks, and I force a smile immediately. I don’t want them to think I'm looking down on them. They’re the kindest, most giving souls I've ever met and they have next to nothing, but they’re sharing it.
"Not at all," I tell her. "I'll take the top."
"Good," Sara breathes and looks down at me, then back at the doorway. "You didn't bring a bag?"
"Unfortunately, no…" I look down at my own body and remember the last time I wore this dress to Papa's funeral. Seemed fitting to wear as I stole from Roman. I didn't assume I'd die, but it sure feels like death in some manner has taken place.
"Well, that's alright," she says, bustling over to a dresser on top of which the single light in this room perches.
She opens a drawer and pulls out a cream-colored night dress and tosses it at me.
"You can borrow it until your things arrive.
" Sara winks and turns her back, picking her own bed clothes out while I stare at the others who are clearly not shy.
They stand in states of undress as they change into their pajamas, and I realize this must be what it's like for normal people.
It makes me grateful again for my upbringing, though lately, it's become a bit of a joke.
As they turn off the lights, I change and drape my dress over the bottom bunk, then climb onto the top bunk and settle in with the thin wool blanket that scratches at my skin and bites into my cheeks. My body begins to relax, but my mind stays active long after snoring fills the room.
I think of trying to sneak out and go home, get my things, vanish into the night somewhere. But where would I go? Without access to my inheritance, I have no money to survive on my own, and Roman has enough resources and the reach it takes to find me anywhere.
It feels like Papa did this on purpose, which can't be right.
But how else would I have found myself trapped by circumstances greater than myself?
Maybe he left instructions for Vera to train me, or maybe she made that all up, and maybe it was his idea to go get that blasted ring, which Roman took back from me the instant he got into that car.
Whatever the case, it was Papa's death that spurred this on, and he is the one who wrote into his will that I have to be married before I turn twenty-five, which is three short years away with no prospects, or I'll never see a dime of his money.
And maybe that's okay too.
Sorin, Sara, and Rebecca all seem to do fine here.
They have little, but they have joy. And I could learn to live with as little as they have and be happy.
All I've ever wanted was to be myself and be accepted as that. Which is something I will never have so long as Vera Koval is in charge of my father’s household.
Eventually, sleep claims me, but my mind stays active and dreams of escape seem as large as life. I just don’t think that's possible.