Chapter 25 – Violet
I wake up cold.
The first thing I feel is the sharp bite of metal around my ankle. Then, the damp air pressing against my skin like a second layer of clothing. I open my eyes and everything blurs before it settles.
Stone walls. One bare lightbulb swinging lazily above. A thick iron chain links my leg to a bolt in the floor.
Panic rises, but I press it down. I don’t scream. Not yet.
I sit up slowly, wincing at the ache in my side. My head pounds—something hit me when the door exploded. My wrists are sore, but not bound. My clothes are intact. No blood. No sharp pain. No violation. Just bruises, hunger, and confusion.
I’m alive.
Across the room, a man stands near the door. Big. Silent. Dressed in black from boots to collar. A guard. His eyes are blank, unreadable, like he’s trained to be nothing but a wall.
“Where am I?” My voice is hoarse. Raw.
He doesn’t answer.
Instead, he walks forward and places a plate of food on the small metal table a few feet from me—potatoes, some kind of broth, water in a plastic cup. Steam curls up in slow spirals. It’s hot. Fresh.
I look up at him again. “Please. Just tell me what’s going on.”
Nothing. He doesn’t even blink.
He turns and walks back to his spot by the door, arms folding across his chest.
Tears sting the backs of my eyes, but I force them down. Not yet. I can’t fall apart. I need to think. I need to stay sharp. Whoever brought me here wants something. That’s good. That means they need me alive.
Still, the silence of the room wraps around me like a threat.
I stare at the food, unmoving. Despite how weak and hungry I am, there’s no way I’m touching that. My fingers drift down to my stomach, curling over the slight swell that feels more precious than ever.
“He’ll come for us,” I whisper, barely audible. “He always does.”
I exhale slowly, trying to steady the tremor in my hands.
“And even if he doesn’t…we’ll get out of here ourselves,” I murmur. “Right? We’ll be okay.”
The guard lets out a low, dry laugh from across the room. Mocking.
“You really think that?” he says, making me wonder how he heard me from all the way across. “That some Bratva fool is going to come charging in here like a knight? Please. He probably sold you out himself.”
I don’t believe that. I know, for a moment, it crossed my head, but I know better. But the accusation doesn’t sit right with me, so I pick up the plate from the table, balancing it on my lap.
“You think Kaz is the kind of man who sells people out?”
“I think he’s the kind of man who uses people,” the guard says with a sneer. “He’s not coming. Nobody is.”
I laugh lightly, and the sound seems to catch him off guard.
“You’re brave, talking like that,” I say, holding the plate up. “But you’re here…what? Guarding a chained woman in a basement? That’s what you do?”
He bristles.
I tilt my head, feigning curiosity. “This broth…it smells like shit.”
“What?”
I wrap my hand around the spoon and pretend I want to unscrew the cuff around my ankles. Stupid bastard. He falls for it and hurries forward. “Hey! Stop!”
When he’s close enough, I fling the plate directly at his face. The ceramic shatters against his head, and the food splashes across his eyes, his nose, his mouth. He yells, stumbling back, cursing and wiping his face.
In that moment, I lunge forward, my fingers tightening around the spoon like a blade. The chain on my ankle yanks me back before I can fully rise, but I don’t care. I slash—hard—across his face.
He stumbles back with a growl, a red welt already rising across his cheek. “You little bitch—”
The slap comes hard and fast. My head snaps sideways, pain exploding through my jaw. I taste blood.
“Behave yourself,” he snarls, looming over me. “My job is to keep you alive and pretty. I don’t want to hurt you….” His smile is cruel. “Not unless I have to. Don’t act stupid before the auction.”
I blink at him, my breath catching. “What…what auction?”
He laughs, and the sound is worse than the slap. Cold. Confident. Delighted by my confusion. “Oh, you don’t know?” He shakes his head like it’s adorable. “Arina was right. You’re definitely beautiful. Exotic. Priceless, even—especially because you’re his.”
I don’t respond. I can’t. My mind is spinning, trying to catch up.
“You’re Kazimir Rusnak’s woman,” he continues. “You think no one wants a piece of that? You think his enemies won’t line up to bid on you just for the pleasure of breaking what he loves?”
My throat closes. The words don’t feel real.
Tonight.
Tonight?
A sickening wave rolls through me as everything clicks into place—the burner phone, Arina, my last argument with Kaz. How didn’t this click sooner?
Kaz didn’t lie to me.
He tried to protect me.
And I left.
I left him.
I told him I didn’t trust him. I threw his love back in his face. And now I’m here—nothing more than a prize for the highest bidder.
Tears sting my eyes, but I force them back. I can’t fall apart. Not now. Not when I’ve never needed to survive more, so I can give him the apology he deserves.
I start screaming.
Not a panicked whimper. Not a cry for help.
I scream with rage, with fury, with the unbearable weight of regret clawing its way up my throat. My voice rips through the cold silence of the room like a blade.
“You disgusting coward!” I spit, my voice hoarse already. “You think locking me up and selling me like cattle makes you powerful? You’re nothing! Just a spineless dog doing someone else’s dirty work!”
He watches me from the corner of the room, arms folded, smirking like I’m some amusing show.
“You’re sick!” I shout again. “You and everyone behind this—Arina, all of you—rot in hell, all of you! Kaz is coming for me! You hear me? You’re all dead the second he finds out where I am!”
He rolls his eyes, finally stepping forward with something in his hand. A syringe.
“No—get the fuck away from me!”
I thrash, yanking against the chain on my ankle, grabbing the metal chair beside me, throwing it in his direction. It clatters against the wall, missing him by inches, but he doesn’t even flinch.
“Don’t touch me!” I scream, backing up, nails clawing at the walls, at the ground, at anything. “You inject me, and I swear—I swear I will kill you the moment I wake up—”
“Shut up,” he mutters, grabbing my arm roughly.
“No!” I struggle, kick, twist my body like a wild thing, but his grip is iron.
“Stop fighting—”
“Go to hell!”
Then it comes. A sting. A sharp prick in my upper arm.
I scream again and try to jerk away, but my body is already starting to betray me. My limbs go heavy, my vision blurring at the edges. Before the blackness swallows me, I feel the sharp slap of his hand across my face.
Then, nothing.
***
I don’t know how long I’ve been out. The world is hazy and spinning and slow. My limbs are lead. My skin is damp and cold. I feel like I’m floating—until I’m not.
A splash of ice-cold water slaps me in the face.
I gasp, sputtering, blinking hard against the sting. The light above me is sharp, white, and blinding. I can’t see anything beyond it—just shadows, movement, the echo of boots on concrete.
I try to lift my head, but my neck won’t cooperate. My knees wobble beneath me. Someone grabs my arm and yanks me upright. My body screams, but I’m too weak to fight it.
“She’s awake,” a man says. I can’t see him, but I hear the sneer in his voice. “Barely.”
“Get her steady,” another one mutters. “The clients are already here and waiting in the next room.”
Clients?
Something coils in my stomach.
“She’ll still sell,” the first man laughs. “Arina was right. She’s pretty. And now that everyone knows she was Rusnak’s little secret? They’ll bid just for the chance to ruin her.”
Laughter. Cruel. Sharp. Echoing.
I try to speak, but my throat is sandpaper and my tongue feels too big for my mouth. The drug is still in my system—clouding everything. Slowing me down.
I blink through the light, trying to make out faces, a doorway—anything. My hands clench, weak fists at my sides.
A voice cuts through the noise. Calm. Cold. “Clean her up. Get her decent. I want her looking good when the lights go on.”
I stagger. My legs finally give out, and I hit the ground with a crack. Pain shoots up my spine, but I don’t cry out. I don’t give them that.
I lie there, heart racing, breath shaky, the weight of realization slamming into me.
I should’ve never left Kaz.
I was so desperate to escape the monster, I ran straight into the slaughterhouse. And now I don’t know if he even knows where I am. Or if he’s already too late.
Suddenly, there’s shouting. A sharp yell. A scream. Then—boom.
The floor shakes beneath me. Dust rains from the ceiling. My eyes flutter open again, just barely. I can’t move, can’t lift my head, but I hear it—chaos. Panic. Gunshots.
The men who were laughing seconds ago are shouting orders now. Footsteps thunder in every direction.
Another explosion—closer this time. And then, through the blur of smoke and flashing lights, I see him. A shadow gliding through the wreckage. Fast. Precise. Dressed in black from head to toe, moving like a storm. Controlled. Deadly.
I can’t even see his face properly because of all the drugs pumped into my blood…but I know. Every cell in my body knows—it’s Kaz.
Something in me breaks loose at the sight of him. I want to cry. To scream. To run. But all I can do is lie here and feel.
Gunfire cracks in my ears. Someone curses.
Before I can slip fully into darkness again—he’s there.
Kaz. Kneeling beside me. Eyes wild, scanning my face like he can’t believe I’m real.
“You’re safe now,” he breathes, his voice shaking. His hands are on my face, my neck, gently brushing hair from my skin. “You’re safe. You were so wrong to think I wanted you dead.”
He leans closer, forehead nearly against mine.
“I would burn the whole fucking world,” he whispers, “just to watch you breathe. That’s exactly what I’m doing right now.”
Tears prick my eyes. My lips move. “I know,” I whisper back.
And then everything fades again, and I let go because I know I am safe.