CHAPTER SIX
Fyodor
“How she is faring?” Fiona, Dimitri’s girlfriend, asks as I play with the glass in my hand.
Dimitri and I have been working on how we can partner with Matteo and his men on our shipping routes, and for the past three days, we’ve been pretty much holed up here, negotiating routes and supplies.
As usual, Fiona decided to check up on Dimitri and is now asking about Anastasia’s welfare.
To be honest, I won’t say I am jealous, but I wish I still had something like this.
Natalia was never able to get close to me because that would only mean putting her at risk, and Anastasia just isn’t going to work.
“A bit better,” I answer, debating if I should tell them about how she’s been pretty much cooped up in her room.
The alarm about Anastasia’s disappearance went off when Marina went upstairs to check on her.
The moment she realized that Anastasia wasn’t in her room, Marina began to search, and almost immediately, everyone sprang into action.
Matteo was convinced that someone was trying to mess with him, but I suspected that Anastasia had escaped on her own, and I was right.
Combing through security footage, we discovered she had left the hotel of our own will and gotten into a car, which was quickly identified.
How they managed to track her down is simply beyond me, but in a matter of minutes, we knew that she had left with her boyfriend, Dylan.
In roughly an hour’s time, we found the car without Anastasia, though Dylan was still driving.
After a few punches and a few hits in the stomach, he had no problems spilling all the details about where he had taken Anastasia.
It turns out that there are several gangs who have a problem with how Matteo runs things.
The Scorpion cartel had taken Anastasia, and they had paid Dylan a hundred grand to bring her out to them. Not thinking twice about his own safety, the idiot had done so.
“She’s fine, but she has been awfully quiet ever since the incident.”
Matteo had been quite angry when he discovered the true extent of the incident. He told me that he would deal with Anastasia, but I talked him out of it, pointing out that since Anastasia is now my wife, he should let me handle it.
With a few of his men, we stormed into the place and managed to rescue her without much of a problem.
“I don’t blame her with the kidnapping and everything,” Fiona continues. “When Rachel, David Fitzroy’s girlfriend, was kidnapped, she had a hard time sleeping, and I had to comfort her at night many times.”
There’s no way Anastasia will let me do that for her.
Dimitri tells me that she’s most likely having a hard time adjusting to this new lifestyle. “I mean, a few months ago, she was just a young girl with her whole life right ahead of her.”
“Yeah, I know, which is why I’m unsure of how to deal with her,” I share my concerns.
I still keep blaming myself for the events of that night, but it’s like what Dimitri and everyone else have been saying: maybe it’s time I move on from it.
Even Katya tells me that I should forget about the past and think about what our future holds for the both of us.
That is, if I can get Anastasia to see it that way.
“Try and get to know her better. Understand her interests, what drives her, and what makes her who she is. Think of it as if you’re dating her,” Dimitri says.
“Basically, you’ll be dating your wife,” Fiona says as she sits on Dimitri’s lap.
It sounds like a good idea, but the problem is that Anastasia doesn’t want to talk to me.
In the past couple weeks since we’ve gotten back, I can count on one hand the number of times I have seen her out of her room.
Oksana has been the one looking after her, and if not for her care, I don’t know what would have happened to Anastasia.
With Dimitri and Fiona together, I decide to take a break and head home, where Anastasia is holed up in her room again. As Dimitri and Fiona advised, it’s time I slowly break through the walls between us, and the only way to do that is by approaching her.
Knocking on her door, I wait a few seconds for some sort of response, but when I get none, I push the door open. The blinds are drawn, and the room is in total darkness, which bothers me even more.
“Staying in a dark room isn’t good for you and the babies,” I say softly as I make my way toward the windows.
“Get out! What the hell are you doing here?” she screams at me.
“I know you might be going through a lot, Anastasia, but this is for your own good.” I ignore her screams as I continue to open the blinds. Bright light flows into the room, and I notice that Anastasia is sitting up in bed.
“Can’t you just leave me alone in peace?”
“I will if that’s what you need, but at the moment, you need some fresh air.”
I make my way toward the bed, noticing how she seems to try and get away from me. Previously, I’d have left her alone, but not this time; it’s finally time we address some things.
“Let’s go for a walk,” I announce, picking her up with ease.
“Unhand me, you monster,” she screams. I simply ignore her as she pelts me with punches.
I can’t help but notice she is a little light, almost as if she has not been eating well.
It’s been two weeks now since that incident, and I can only imagine what damage it has done to her. The fact that she’s hiding in her room shows how much she was broken from Dylan’s betrayal, and if that rat had not managed to escape, perhaps I might have taught him a few lessons myself.
“I’ll place you back on your feet if you promise you will follow me outside.”
“And if I don’t?” she asks, her eyes sparkling with defiance that I find a little interesting.
“Then I’ll carry you out into the garden.”
“Fine, just put me down,” she finally succumbs.
“Great. Then off we go, and I’ll put you down when we get down the stairs,” I assure her.
Surprisingly, she doesn’t put up a fight as we both travel down the stairs to where Oksana, who is busy in the kitchen, is standing and staring at the both of us.
“Don’t worry, everything is fine,” I assure her as I lead the way outside.
“You broke your promise,” Anastasia says as I step out onto the porch.
“I know, but Oksana was watching.”
I place her gently on the porch and watch as she stands on her own two feet. She looks at the garden, and I hear her take a deep breath. Putting my hands on her shoulder, I whisper, “Looks beautiful, doesn’t it? Oksana told me how much you love flowers, so I had it made for you.”
“Why?” she asks me.
I simply shrug, not sure what to say. She asks if this is my ploy to win her over, and I shake my head.
“Dylan’s betrayal broke you, and trust me, I know how that feels, especially in my line of work. However, I want you to think of it as part of the experience. I mean, if he was willing to sell you out for money, do you think he would have treated you well?”
“As if you are any better.” She rolls her eyes at me. “Dylan was deceived; that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love me.”
Convincing someone who is in love to see reality can be hard, but I need her to realize that Dylan never meant her well in the first place.
“Why would someone who claims to love you do that to you?”
Her expression makes it obvious that she’s trying to find an excuse to justify what Dylan did, and I need her to know that there’s no excuse for him treating her that way.
“I know you hate me. You think I destroyed your life, and maybe I did,” I begin as I stand right next to her. “And for the past few weeks, I’ve been comfortable taking the blame, but the truth is that we both played a role in this. Anastasia, you’re not the only victim.”
There. I said the things she needs to hear.
She opens her mouth as if she wants to say something, but I am not done talking. No, I really want her to listen to me.
“Do you know why I was drinking that day?”
She shakes her head slowly, and I let out a sigh. Talking about that dark moment isn’t something I love to do, but if I’m going to move forward with her, I need to come out plain about everything.
“For three years, I’ve been in a relationship, thinking that one day, we would get married. Then suddenly, out of the blue, she told me that she had found someone better. Someone who treats her like the queen she is. Someone who is not engrossed in work.”
Somehow, Anastasia’s expression softens, and I wonder if she somehow understands how it feels. I tell her how that had broken my heart and how, for a brief moment, I found solace in drinking.
“If that had not happened, we would never have met, and maybe you and Dylan would still be together.”
She begins to play with her fingers, and I can’t help but feel emotions stir within me. I really want to protect her; not because she’s my wife, but because she’s a vulnerable girl who has everything moving too fast.
“Being married is just as strange to me as it is to you, but we have our kids on the way, and I want the best for them.” I move closer to her, turning her to look at me. I tilt her chin up, making her look into my eyes, and I can’t help but notice how blue hers are.
“What are you suggesting then?” she asks, her voice coming out almost as a whisper.
“Cooperation. Maybe not as a couple, but as parents-to-be. I’ll not expect anything from you, and I won’t hinder you from living your life.”
Something about what I just said seemed to rile her up, as the softness that I saw on her face suddenly disappears, replaced by a harsh, biting coldness.
“Because you are my husband, right?” She slaps my hand away as she walks back toward the house.
Her sudden reaction confuses me, and for a brief moment, I watch her walk away.
In less than half a year, my children will be born into this world, and as exciting as that sounds, it’s also a little scary.
I mean, what if I am like my father? What if I fail them?
What if I end up putting my own interests ahead of theirs?
“Anastasia, don’t be like this,” I say, walking after her.
She almost slams the door in my face, and that’s the last straw for me.
For so long, I have tried to keep the peace, but now I am tired and fed up with her acting this way.
I easily catch up to her before she climbs the staircase, and once again, I grab her by the shoulders, though a little more forcefully this time.
“Leave me alone.” She swings her arm and slaps me right on the face, the slap echoing in the empty room.
I am not sure exactly where Oksana is, but I hope that she did not witness what just happened. Anastasia, on the other hand, is staring at me in surprise. “I… I…” she stammers as I rub my face slowly.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I shout at her.
“Please, just stay away from me.” She tries to escape, but I’m not letting her go. I pull her back, and like before, she tries to fight me again.
“Damn it, stop fighting!”
My shout seems to have scared the hell out of her, a fact I realize as I notice how she seems to be visibly shaken.
The idea of her being scared of me creates a bitter feeling deep within me.
Another promise I made as a child was that I would never be like my father.
I would never strike the mother of my children or my children.
“I am sorry,” I begin, letting her go. “My emotions got the best of me, but we really need to talk.”
This woman drives me crazy. And part of me feels this attraction toward her. This desire to hold her in my arms. Maybe it is from the memories of the night we shared together.
Recovering from my outburst, Anastasia finds her voice. “Well, I am not interested in talking with you. In fact, I want nothing to do with you.”
This is dragging on way too long.
“Really? So, there is nothing I can do to change your mind?”
“Nothing you can do,” she answers me.
At that moment, I decide on something crazy: crossing a line I swore I would never cross again. I lean close to her and kiss her right on the lips.