Chapter Twenty-two
Alessia
I still felt the aftershock of what had happened.
I let myself enjoy it, but now it felt cold.
The warmth from Rodion’s or Artur’s touch, on the parts of me I had foolishly allowed to unravel, was gone.
He stripped me of everything and tossed me aside, handing me off to another man like a business transaction.
It wasn’t supposed to have felt that way. I wasn’t supposed to have enjoyed it. Yet I had. For those few moments, I let myself fall and feel good in his arms. But now, while in this car, staring out at the dark world slipping by, I realized how stupid I was.
Rodion didn’t care about anyone. And maybe he wanted to show me how weak I was. And that shattered any remnants of hope I had clung to.
The car came to a sudden stop, breaking my train of thought. I blinked as a gate ahead of us opened, revealing two armed guards. They exchanged quick words with Matvet, but I stayed silent. I didn’t speak to anyone, not even Matvet. Silence hung between us until we got here.
I wanted to cry, but there was nothing left in me.
What was the point? My tears meant nothing, not to men like Rodion. I wanted to hate him and keep my heart guarded. But in the end, I let him in, let him break me, just like every other man in my life.
I didn’t realise I was staring blankly until Matvet opened the door. “Come out.”
This was it. There was no other choice. I was powerless. There was no escaping this fate. I stepped out, the cold air biting into my skin like a reminder that I was alone.
Before I could step down, I saw a figure approaching. A rotund man with an aged face smiled like he had just found something he’d lost long ago. Leonid, the man who had won me at the auction a while ago.
He was Italian, but I knew nothing about him except that I didn’t trust him. Not even for a second.
Matvet released my arm, stepping aside as Leonid approached us, his smile never fading.
“The business is clean,” he said, his voice thick with an accent, as if I were another item to check off his list.
Without another word, Matvet turned and disappeared down the driveway, leaving me alone with Leonid. My heart twisted in pain. I trusted Matvet. He was the only one who seemed to care, even a little. And now, he was gone. It wasn’t like he could do anything, but it pained me to see him leave.
His car disappeared down the long, winding road, leaving a bitter emptiness in me. I felt abandoned. Leonid seemed to enjoy it. He was jovial, almost too cheerful, as he turned to me.
“Vieni dentro,” he said in a smooth Italian accent. “è troppo freddo qui.” (Come inside, it’s too cold here.)
His hand settled behind my back, almost possessively, as he led me toward the mansion.
His touch made me tense, but I didn’t pull away.
I couldn’t. There were too many eyes on me.
Too many soldiers stood guard with their weapons visible at their sides.
I felt trapped. I couldn’t even find the strength to break free from his grasp.
Something about Leonid made me uneasy. Something felt off. It was better to trust the devil I knew than the angel I didn’t.
The mansion loomed ahead of us. As we entered, the smell of rich Italian food flooded my senses. The warmth from the inside didn’t comfort me. It only made me feel more out of place. This wasn’t home. Nothing about this place felt like home.
Leonid turned to the older woman who stood near the entrance. She dressed in simple workers’ attire. He spoke to her in rapid Italian, but I didn’t need to understand every word. His orders were clear.
“Show her to her room,” he said, glancing at me. “Get her shower ready and prepare her for dinner. She needs to look perfect.”
I didn’t bother protesting. What was the point? I had no say in anything anymore. They reduced me to nothing—a body to be cleaned up and displayed for the amusement of others.
The woman led me up the stairs, her hands guiding me as if I were a prized possession.
The second floor was quieter, more refined.
We stopped in front of a door, and she opened it to reveal a beautiful room.
The bed was neat with white sheets, the furniture was polished, and the room had a faint lavender scent.
It was clean, pristine, and well-maintained. But none of that mattered.
What mattered was that I was here, in a room that wasn’t mine.
The woman gestured to the bed, where three outfits lay, each one more elegant than the last. I stared at them for a moment, unsure of what to feel.
The first was deep emerald green, with a fitted bodice and a skirt that flared out delicately.
Beside it was the second, a midnight blue, the fabric shimmering under the light as if the stars had kissed it.
The last was soft blush pink, with intricate lace detailing at the sleeves and hem.
They were all beautiful, but they weren’t mine. They were just another part of this life that I hadn’t asked for.
“The shower is ready. Go in and choose a dress.”
I nodded. This was my reality now. I stepped into the bathroom, my reflection staring back at me from the mirror. I didn’t recognize the girl looking back at me. My hair was a mess, and the emptiness in my eyes made me feel like a ghost.
After stripping, I stepped into the shower and finally let the tears fall. They came in waves, a release of everything I had been holding back. I cursed myself for feeling anything at all, for allowing myself to care for someone who had shattered me.
The warm water hit my skin, and the steam filled the room; I let it calm me. I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore. Until the tears dried up and the ache in my chest became numb.
A knock at the door startled me. Pulling myself out of the shower, I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my body before stepping out. The woman was waiting with a slight smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Dress?” she asked, gesturing to the bed.
I glanced at the dresses again and picked the emerald green one. It made me feel the least out of place and slipped into it. It fitted well in all the right ways.
When I walked downstairs, Leonid was waiting for me at the dining table. His eyes darkened as he took in my appearance. “Perfetto,” he said with a smile, his approval made my skin crawl. “Now, let’s eat something.”
Sitting with him was unbearable. Leonid’s voice filled the space between us like thick, suffocating smoke. He spoke incessantly, his words unsettling as he watched me eat. Or rather, as I stabbed my food, trying to ignore him.
“You know,” he said, as if we were friends, “life here might be different.”
I continued stabbing at my plate, my fork scraping the porcelain with each hollow motion.
Leonid didn’t seem bothered by my silence. He wasn’t looking for a response. “You are special,” he continued, leaning back in his chair. His hands folded in front of him like a man content with everything around him. “You’re valuable here, Alessia. Very valuable.”
I didn’t look up. Was I supposed to thank him for bringing me into his world? I wasn’t stupid. I knew my worth here, and it wasn’t something I liked to think about.
There was a slight shift in his posture before his voice broke through again. “You’re part of the family now. That’s why you’ll marry my son.”
His words dropped like a bomb. My fork in my hand froze mid-air.
Before I could even process what he had said, he added, “Tomorrow, you’ll meet him. We’ll have a small party for your engagement.”
Engagement?
A shudder ran through me, an icy wave of dread that I couldn’t control. My mind raced, but nothing made sense. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. He leaned forward, eyes gleaming with malice, and I gathered my scattered thoughts.
“I want an heir. As you can see, I’m getting old. It’s time to worry about the future,” he paused, a slight twist of his lips that almost resembled a smile. “So you will give me a child to ensure the continuation of this family.”
My chest tightened with panic. I blinked and shook my head. “No … I can’t. I can’t marry your son, I can’t give birth. I don’t know him, I…” I choked on the words, my voice faltering.
He stopped me. “No, Alessia,” he said, his voice soft but commanding. “You won’t be giving my son a child. He is sterile. You will carry my child. But you will marry my son.”
My heart stalled, a cold, suffocating grip tightening around my chest. I stared at him, unable to process what he said. No, I was suffocating. I tried to rise and flee, but a guard’s firm hand slammed down on my shoulder, forcing me back into the chair.