Chapter Twelve
Alessia
If Salva had never entered my life with his idea, maybe I could have seduced Artur if my freedom demanded it.
But now, my parents were relying on me, and that weight crushed the anxiety gnawing at my chest. The plan was reckless, but I couldn’t see another way out.
Artur’s words earlier lingered in my mind.
He wasn’t the type to let things slide. Action was his language, and he spoke it fluently.
Then there was Matvet. Every time we crossed paths, his gaze would flicker. It felt like a signal I wasn’t sure how to interpret yet. If my parents were attacked and Marco saved them, it meant I had to stick to their plan, even if it meant putting everything on the line.
Earlier, I found Matvet like Artur instructed me to. He gave me another elegant dress, saying I would accompany the boss to a meeting later this evening. It meant I had to execute my plan before the night unraveled.
My freedom was worth the risk.
All day, the mansion hummed with its usual activities. I moved through it on autopilot, my mind locked on the plan. Each hour dragged like wet cement. But when the sun finally bled into the horizon, painting the windows in a shade of rust, the wheels were already in motion.
I got ready to serve the boss, fixing my face into the quiet obedience he liked, even if my heartbeat drummed against the pills tucked in my bra. One slip and they would know.
From the girls’ quarters, I stepped into the long hallway, its walls swallowing the last of the daylight. I had almost reached the main kitchen when a deep, familiar voice slid through the air and froze me in place.
“Alessia.”
I turned to find Renat leaning against the wall, a cigarette balanced between his fingers. His smirk always disgusted me.
I sighed, annoyed but unable to show it. “Can I help you?”
He studied me for a moment, then took a slow drag of his cigarette. “I’m curious. How was the party?”
Renat was second in command, yet he seemed to know less than he should. A smirk tugged at my mouth.
“I’m afraid I didn’t take notes.” My voice dripped with sarcasm. “I’ll remember to hand you a report next time.”
His lips curved into a sly grin. “I’m glad you’re aware of your position.” His gaze roamed over me, lingering too long on my chest. “You look good, by the way.”
“Thank you. Please excuse me. I have to serve the boss.”
Spinning on my heel, I flipped my hair as I exaggerated the sway of my hips. I’d barely rounded the corner when I spotted Artur. His cold eyes were watching me. When I was finally out of their sight, I let out a breath, a small smile curling the edges of my lips.
God, that felt good.
The kitchen bustled as the chef barked instructions while assistants scurried around.
I plastered a polite smile, wheeling my trolley into place.
As the chef worked the blender and his assistants scrubbed dishes, I slipped one capsule out of my bra, fingers trembling.
With one twist, the seam split. Adrenaline coursed through me as I dusted the white powder over almost every dish.
I always set both the starter and main meal.
Some nights, Artur would skip the starter and go straight to the main course.
When the door creaked open, I froze, forcing calm over my features. A kitchen helper walked in without sparing me a glance. My pulse slowed, but the most challenging part was done.
Within a few minutes, I was in Artur’s apartment. It was quiet, except for Matvet, who was on the phone. He eyed me like a man deciding whether to bury or use me. His gaze softened for a fraction of a second before hardening again. Whatever he must have thought, he hid it quickly.
He nodded to me before leaving. I took it as an unspoken acknowledgment. We were both ready.
Artur entered minutes later, his suit immaculate. It was black as night, tailored to his frame. My stomach twisted as I set the dishes on the table.
The dog padded in behind him, and when it saw me, it came bounding toward me. I smiled, crouching to pat his head.
Artur sat and served himself, starting with a salad. God, this was difficult to watch. My heart hammered in my chest as I started for the door.
“Sit,” he commanded. I froze. Was he talking to the dog? Another step toward the door. “I said, sit.”
I turned, my finger hovering over my chest. “Me?”
His eyes made it clear he wasn’t answering that. I crossed the room and dropped into the chair furthest from him, putting distance where words couldn’t. He ate slowly, his gaze cutting to me between bites like I was just another problem he hadn’t decided how to deal with yet.
“Why are you nervous?”
Forcing a steadying breath, I lifted my chin and told him, “The meeting.” I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing what was in store for him. “It makes me uneasy.”
“Why?”
“Bad history,” I said, fumbling for a plausible excuse. “Meetings and I don’t mix.”
His skeptical gaze cut through me like a knife. “I’m listening.”
“It’s…” My throat tightened. I didn’t have a story prepared. “It’s a long story, sir.”
He leaned back, wiping his mouth. Was he done eating? What about the steak? “Twenty minutes.”
Standing up to my feet, I pushed the chair back with too much force. “Thank you, I’ll need those twenty minutes to get ready.”
“Sit the fuck down, Alessia.”
“Sir—” My voice broke with frustration. “I’m a mess right now. Can I at least use the washroom before we leave?” I held his gaze, challenging him. “Please.”
He stared for a long moment, then waved me off like speaking to me was a waste of words.
I didn’t wait for a second dismissal. I slipped out, letting the door click shut behind me.
Tremors hit my legs, and my hands shook.
I couldn’t stay there any longer. I would’ve cracked and stopped him from eating the steak.
But I couldn’t afford to break now. Not when everything was already in motion.
Freedom was the only thing that mattered. So I walked away. All he needed to be was unconscious, and my father would take care of the rest. My way out was already waiting.
Twenty minutes crawled by, each second stretching thin with tension. Anxiety clawed at my insides like a wild animal. We were already outside the mansion, two black cars ready to roll out for the meeting. But Artur was late.
That small detail caused my chest to tighten. My plan may have worked. If he were already unconscious, Matvet would inform Salva, and the rescue mission would come for me.
But the silence didn’t sit right, especially with Matvet waiting outside with me. Something felt off.
Matvet leaned against one car in a casual posture. He looked unbothered, the epitome of calm, but his eyes betrayed him. He was assessing every movement around the estate. I envied his composure.
His eyes locked on mine, and I looked away quickly, just in time to catch a figure sprinting toward the east wing.
My heart lurched. I glanced back at Matvet and noticed he had straightened, his hand brushing the gun holstered at his hip.
His men mirrored his alertness but didn’t follow the man.
Moments later, Doctor Dorothy and another man hurried to Artur’s quarters, urgency etched into their faces.
Matvet didn’t hesitate. He bolted after them, leaving me standing alone. Panic threatened to drown me. Should I stay by the cars or follow?
Before I could decide, Renat appeared. He followed the same path, disappearing into the mansion like shadows. My stomach churned. Something was wrong.
I was halfway to the entrance when a gunshot cracked through the air. I froze, the sound ricocheting in my skull. Then another followed, coming from the gate.
Soldiers rushed toward the source, shouting commands. The blaring of an alarm pierced the chaos, followed by a frantic voice shouting, “Get to safety!”
But I stood rooted to the ground, every muscle locked in fear. My instincts screamed at me to run, but I couldn’t.
Was this Marco’s rescue mission?
The sharp crack of glass snapped me out of my daze. A car’s window shattered, sending shards flying my way. I screamed and ducked, scrambling behind the nearest car for cover.
The scene descended into chaos. Gunfire erupted in every direction, bullets ripping through the air.
Bodies hit the ground, and the metallic stench of blood thickened the night. I pressed myself against the car, trembling. This wasn’t a rescue. It was carnage.
“Alessia!” Matvet’s voice tore through the chaos like a war drum. He charged toward me, gun blazing. A bullet tore into his arm, and blood burst in a vicious arc, but he didn’t slow. He kept firing. “Get inside now,” he barked.
My legs refused to move, paralyzed by the sheer insanity of the situation. He cursed under his breath, diving behind the car next to me.
“Are you insane?” he snapped, tossing his empty gun aside and gripping his bleeding arm. “You’ll get us both killed.”
I knew this was it, this was how we would die. Until Artur appeared like a force of nature, striding into the fray. He tossed a fresh gun to Matvet without breaking stride.
“West wing. Now,” he ordered, his voice cold and furious.
Matvet nodded, disappearing into the chaos. Artur dropped to a crouch beside me, his gun ready. His presence weighed down on me. The plan failed. He wasn’t unconscious. He was very much in control.
“Tell me something.” He cocked the gun and fired at the person rushing toward us. “What was your wish tonight?” he asked, his voice low and biting. “My death? Or yours?”
Caught in the crossfire, I couldn’t speak.
Artur’s hand shot out, yanking me against his chest. I flinched as something heavy slammed into the car behind me: a loud thud, followed by a scream.
His arm remained firm around my back, holding me in place.
The scent of blood clung to him. His other hand shook as he fired with precision.
Each shot sent vibrations through my body.
Minutes felt like hours, each one dragging like a slow, agonizing eternity. Then the gunfire ceased, and the night fell into an unsettling silence. In the distance, tires screeched as a car peeled away into the darkness.
Artur released me and rose to his feet. “Follow that damn car,” he roared to his men.
I stayed where I was, trembling, my knees refusing to cooperate.
“Fuck,” he growled. Turning to me, his expression changed. “And you.” I scrambled back on my butt and hands, desperate to create distance. “This is what you’re going to do. Get your ass inside and make yourself useful.”
My head bobbed like a frightened child.
“Boss,” Matvet appeared.
Artur’s attention snapped to him. “Get me the motorbike, now.”
Matvet nodded and disappeared again. Artur’s jaw clenched, his hands flexing at his sides. For a moment, he looked like he might say something to me. Instead, he turned and left, his coat billowing behind him. I sat there, my mind reeling. What just happened?
Artur wasn’t the kind of man you crossed and lived to tell the tale. That much I knew. So I had to be ready because he would find out what I did, and when he did, he wouldn’t spare me.