For BetterFrost
TW: Coercive control, power imbalance, threats involving a firearm.
NATALIE
“Ican’t believe he’s late again,” I hiss to my lawyer as I place the hall, gripping the strap of my purse so hard my knuckles turn white.
“Natalie, please, sit down. We can’t afford for you to come across as someone incapable of controlling your emotions. You know better than anyone that he will use it against you,” my lawyer Josh hisses quietly and removes his briefcase from the seat next to him.
I want to glare at him as he taps the seat gently, acting as if I’m some child who’s throwing a temper tantrum.
Eventually, I sit down next to him, but I make it clear that I’m not too happy about it. “Just because I’m frustrated by his indifference doesn’t mean I’m not in my right mind,” I grumble loud enough for only him to hear.
“I understand,” Josh sighs. “I understand that this whole process is taking a lot from you. But, Natalie, let’s try to stay positive, okay?
Maybe today is the day and the judge will grant you the divorce.
After all, your soon-to-be ex hasn’t shown his face anywhere ever since he was served.
If anything, to me it looks like he simply doesn’t care. ”
I snort out a bitter laugh. “It’s been almost a year, Josh. Almost a year of this back and forth with no results. He didn’t attend mediation, didn’t react to your calls and e-mails. Damn it, this is what, the ninth time we come to court and still nothing?”
Josh shifts in his seat uncomfortably and clears his throat. “I get where you are coming from, but you’re trying to divorce a very powerful man. He’s not some nobody whose name vanishes as soon as the papers are signed.”
My head snaps to the side and I glare at him. “Wait… are you telling me the reason why I haven’t gotten anywhere with the divorce has something to do with him?”
Josh shrugs but doesn’t meet my eyes. “I don’t know, Natalie. I really don’t have an answer. All I know is that he has the entire city under his thumb and quite frankly, there aren’t that many people who aren’t afraid to cross him.”
“Shit,” I hiss under my breath and look down at my hands. “That’s the reason why I had to look for a lawyer outside the state, huh?” I whisper the question even though I know the answer already.
“Well,” Josh drags the word for a heartbeat too long. “Honestly? I’m shit scared of your husband too. This is the first time I’m working against someone so powerful.”
The admission does nothing but add another dagger to my chest. All this time, I thought Josh was one of the rare people who cared about what’s right more than he feared something. I guess I was wrong about it all.
“You’re alive, nobody tried to break your legs or anything,” I grumble.
Josh chuckles and shakes his head. “Yet.”
“Yet,” I whisper the word and focus on my thoughts.
Years ago, when I agreed to marry that Russian bastard, I thought our life would become better.
We had been in a relationship for three years before he finally proposed and damn it, I felt like the luckiest woman alive when he did.
The proposal was perfect—he took me to the small restaurant where we had our first date, rented out the entire building, arranged a live band and scattered rose petals everywhere.
When he dropped to one knee and presented the ring to me, promising many more years of unconditional love, I believed that bastard. And so did my family, whom he flew in and hid at the back of the restaurant just so they could witness the proposal.
Then, a year later came the wedding. It was a grand affair with three hundred guests, loads of fun, heartfelt speeches and overall nothing but love surrounded us that day.
But after? Well, the day after the wedding, everything just… vanished.
The magic of the wedding day was gone and along with it everything else felt like it faded too.
The worst part is that it’s not like everything faded slowly and gradually. No, it happened in one day—like everything we shared and loved about each other the most was cut with a knife. Just like that.
He rarely came home, almost never touched me and the rare evenings when he did arrive home, he was too tired to even look at me, let alone talk.
My own husband, the man who promised me forever of care and love, turned me into his personal housekeeper.
Each day, I worried about how to wash blood from his expensive shirts, what to cook, how much cleaning I had to do and how to ask if I was allowed to go out at all.
And for the record, no, I wasn’t. He claimed I was too precious to be put in danger like that. His enemies became mine the day we got married and I took his last name—even going out to get the groceries could get me killed.
Well, jokes on you, asshole, I’ve been living alone the entire time of separation, still cursed with his last name, but I’m alive.
“What are you thinking about?” Josh suddenly nudges my shoulder.
I jump, startled, and quickly shake my head. “Nothing, just… where did we go wrong, I suppose.”
“Are you…” Josh cuts himself off and shakes his head. “No, I won’t ask. Of course, you’re not.”
“Wait, am I what?” I insist.
He sighs and runs a hand through his perfectly styled hair. “Are you having second thoughts? I mean, are you really sure the divorce is what you want, Natalie? Have you thought this through completely?”
“Yes,” I say without thinking. “I’ve spent the last five years of my life married to a man who couldn’t care less about my existence. Just look around,” I say and motion around us. “Do you see him anywhere? Have you seen him at all?”
“No,” Josh mutters and looks down as if it’s his fault my so-called husband couldn’t care less.
“I get where you’re coming from, really.
I’d be pissed too if I filed for divorce and my partner would act like that isn’t happening.
Even more so if they wouldn’t hire a lawyer of their own for the proceedings. ”
“Exactly!” I raise my voice and although the truth really hurts, I can’t help but feel a little relieved that I’m not the only one who notices the indifference.
Before Josh can add anything more, a large door opens at the end of the hall and an official-looking man steps into the hall to call out, “Case of Belov versus Belov—both parties to courtroom three.”
“This is us. Let’s go,” Josh mutters and stands up. “Just stay calm and let me do the talking, okay?”
I nod, grip my purse and follow Josh. I can’t say I’m not surprised that I don’t see him in the hallway or even inside the courtroom.
I should be used to his attitude by now, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting at all.
Under all that rage he has built within me still lies hurt for a future we’ll never have.
“All rise for the Honorable Judge Mercer. Case of Belov versus Belov—petition for dissolution of marriage.” A man in a police officer uniform calls out just as Josh pulls a chair out for me.
A door opens and a woman, clearly the judge, walks out, then approaches her bench. She looks tired even before she gets to greet the courtroom, and that too she doesn’t get to do because the door behind us slams open.
I turn to look over my shoulder and for a second, I assume I’ve either been hit over the head so hard I was knocked out or I’m dead.
Never. That’s exactly when I assumed my soon-to-be-ex would arrive. Never.
But here he is, Yury Belov, in his glory, surrounded by at least twenty of his goons, all of them armored like they’re preparing to join a war, not to watch a divorce case.
“Mister Belov, leave your theatrics out of my courtroom,” the judge calls out and glares at Yury.
Is it too soon to say I adore that woman? I’ve never seen anyone stand up against Yury like that, especially someone who’s in a position that can be easily taken away by him.
As always, my ex-husband-to-be goes over the top to ensure I don’t get enough time to enjoy the moment he’s finally put in his place.
Yury walks up to the judge, reaches into his jacket and pulls out a gun. He points it at the judge and smiles, “Did I tell you that you can speak?” He asks and I swear, his accent has only thickened in the time I haven’t seen him.
That only means he’s been spending extra time around his associates and talking mainly in Russian again.
The poor judge pales and the law enforcement, not surprisingly, does nothing. They’re too scared of his unpredictable nature and the man who followed him inside.
“Quiet, yes?” He asks the judge and she nods, raising her hands.
Finally, he lowers the gun, slips it back into the holster under his jacket and turns to look at me. “Natasha, ljubov.”
I glare at Yury and hiss, “my name is Natalie, not Natasha.”
“You will forever be my Natasha,” he insists and stalks closer. I don’t move for an inch, cross my arms and huff as I turn my head so I don’t have to look at him.
Josh tries to block Yury before he can approach me, but one look from the crazed Russian is more than enough for my lawyer to step back with raised hands.
“Natalie, look at me,” he demands as he stops in front of me, his massive frame blocking nearly everyone from my view.
“Sit down, Yury,” I mumble, but still refuse to look at him.
“No,” he growls. “Listen to me. I came to tell you that you can take everything. Properties, accounts, the business—take anything your heart desires. Just don’t sign that paper.”
I roll my eyes. “I’ve already decided.”
“Then undecide it!” Yury snarls and slams his fist against the table. “I’ll beg, Natalie. I’ll fucking beg in front of them all.”
My initial reaction is to scoff at how dramatic he’s being—offering everything he’s been putting above our marriage first, then offering to beg? No, the all-mighty Yury Belov doesn’t beg, he doesn’t grovel.
Just as I turn my head to look at him and snap something insanely sarcastic, Yury drops to his knees in front of me and the entire courtroom, his men included, gasp. “Come home, baby. I’m begging you, come back to me.”
I blink, so caught off guard that I don’t know how to react. Yury has never acted like this. To hell, he doesn’t know how to say ‘I’m sorry’ without making a face.
“You’re the only light in my dark life, Natalie. I’m begging you, please come home.” Yury says, his voice grows louder but also more desperate. “Without you, I’m nothing. An empty space, you hear me?”
The courtroom remains silent; everyone here is just as stunned as I am.
Then, just as suddenly as Yury dropped to his knees, he stands up.
“Or… if you really want this divorce…” He says and pulls his gun out of the holder again.
“I guess I’ll just have to kill every fucking person in this courtroom before I let you walk out of here without me.
So, you have two options, baby. Either walk out of here still married to your incredibly handsome husband, or everyone dies today. ”
Yury’s voice is cold, his eyes deadly serious as they meet mine with the gun still pointed at the judge’s head.
I swallow loudly, unsure how to react. Earlier, his behavior was clear theatrics, but now… Yury is serious.
“I’m not joking, baby,” Yury growls. “I’ll burn the whole system down for you. Every cop, every judge, every lawyer who tries to take you away from me—dead. What is your choice? Divorce papers signed in blood, or you leave this courtroom as Mrs.Belov still?”
“I-” I choke out, but that’s about the only word I can force.
“I love you, Natalie,” Yury snarls at me. “I fucking love you more than my own life. If it means to end hundreds of lives to keep you, so be it.” He removes the safety from his gun and growls, “Choose.”
In the moment of absolute panic, I jump to my feet and shout, “Okay, okay, I’m going home!”
Yury smirks at me, holsters his gun again and mutters, “smart choice.” Then, he stalks toward me, in the blink of an eye throws me over his shoulder, slaps my ass like the caveman he is and turns to the judge, “case dismissed.”