Chapter Twenty-three #2
“Rodion.” My voice shook as he reached for the doorknob.
His shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t turn to me.
I wanted to beg him to take me away from this place, to drag me out of the nightmare I was about to be buried in.
I didn’t want to be pregnant or marry a man I could never love.
But looking at Rodion’s back, I knew I would be asking the wrong man for mercy. So I stayed silent.
He opened the door and walked out without a word.
After standing frozen for minutes, I finally let out a shaky sigh and stepped into the shower.
The water scalded my skin, but it couldn’t burn away the shame clinging to me like a second layer.
My body gave in to him again. I tried to hold back, to stay in control, but I failed.
He knew exactly where to touch, like he had a map of all the places I didn’t want anyone to find.
I threw on my clothes for the engagement party after showering.
I didn’t want Leonid to suspect anything.
As I put on my shoes, my gaze drifted toward the window Rodion had used to enter.
How did he even manage that? This place was crawling with guards, yet he had slipped in unnoticed.
Was I safe here? I shook my head, dismissing the thought. It didn’t matter.
The door creaked, and the maid stepped in. “They’re waiting for you.”
Adjusting my posture, I followed her out.
The engagement party was already in full swing. Laughter echoed through the air. People greeted me, offering congratulations I barely heard. I didn’t respond to any of their wishes. Deep inside, I felt detached. Getting drunk was all I needed.
As I reached for a glass of red wine, I spotted Leonid with a tall, well-built man at his side. I assumed it was his son, Vincenzo, as the surrounding crowd echoed the felicitations I had received. I took a slow sip of wine, hoping it would wash the sick feeling away.
The two walked straight to the front of the room. Vincenzo didn’t glance my way because he didn’t even know I was the one he was supposed to be engaged to. The room swayed as Leonid’s voice cut through the chatter, commanding attention as he announced the engagement.
Applause followed, but it all faded into a distant hum in my ears. He said a lot, maybe too much, but I was not really listening. I was too busy drinking, one sip after another, trying to silence the churn in my chest. I emptied my glass and took another from a passing waiter.
“Alessia, please come over here,” Leonid called, and everyone turned to me.
Frustration built in my chest. Why was I getting engaged without my parents’ involvement? Was that even legal, or did the law not apply to people like them? Why the hell was I feeling dizzy?
“Alessia?”
I looked up at Leonid, but my vision blurred. I blinked to focus, but everything felt wrong. My gaze swept the room, searching for something or anyone who could explain what I was feeling.
No, I wasn’t drunk, at least not yet. And even if I was, I shouldn’t feel this sick and weak all over. I let out a burp, each sip I had taken threatening to come back up. My stomach churned. I turned away, forcing my legs to move.
“Excuse me,” I murmured, barely aware of my destination. I just needed to find a washroom.
Murmurs filled the room, but if I stayed longer, I would throw up.
The hallway stretched ahead of me, and I moved, aware of someone following me.
Each step felt heavier than the last. I reached for the bathroom door.
But before I could grasp the handle, a hand clamped over my mouth, and an arm snaked around my waist, yanking me back.
A wave of tension coiled through me. I tried to fight, but my body was still weak. This wasn’t normal. I was in danger, and someone had drugged me.
We moved, the noise behind us fading into a distant blur. The person holding me leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Nice to meet you again, girlfriend.”
That voice. I knew that voice.
“Marco,” I mumbled, trying to scream, but a sudden pain exploded at the back of my skull, and the world went blank.
When I came to be, there was a woman singing.
My body ached in ways I couldn’t yet understand. A dull throb pounded at the back of my head, and when I tried to move, I realized someone had tied up my wrists.
Panic crept in, but I forced myself to stay still and adjust to my surroundings first. The cream-colored ceiling above me blurred at the edges. My vision wasn’t clear yet. I turned my head just enough to see the figure moving in the room.
The lady held a syringe, which she used as a makeshift microphone, singing as if she were on a stage rather than in a room with a captive audience of one. On realizing I knew her, a chill went down my spine. I once met her at an event Rodion and I attended. Elena.
Too lost in the rhythm of her movements, she didn’t notice I was awake. As my gaze drifted from her, I caught sight of other things. I was in a hospital bed.
Was I in Rodion’s mansion? He knew this woman, and the last time they met, they spoke like colleagues. But… I remembered hearing Marco’s voice before I blacked out.
A sharp gasp tore through my throat as Elena’s sudden shout snapped my attention back to her.
“Oh.” She spun on her heel, clutching her chest as if startled by her own realization. She sighed and her lips curled into a wicked grin. “You’re awake. Gracias a Dios.” (Thank God)
She approached me with a sickening smile still painted on her red lips. The closer she got, the more she resembled a devil in disguise, missing only the horns. If the man who knocked me out earlier was Marco, then Elena was working with Marco, and Marco worked with Salvatore, who answered to Renat.
Elena was against Rodion as well.
“How do you feel?” She cooed, her hand grazing my shoulder. I flinched to shake her off, but she didn’t move.
My throat burned when I tried to speak. “W-what do you want from me?”
“Nothing much.” She laughed, clapping in delight before sauntering toward the small metal table near the bed. “I was just making sure these little beauties were safe.”
Her fingers danced over a tray lined with syringes. She picked one up, holding it to the dim light as she examined the clear liquid inside.
“Let’s have a brief introduction, shall we?
” Her eyes gleamed with malice. “This one’s my favorite.
A custom blend. First, it numbs you, then it locks your body in place, and finally—” she flicked the syringe, watching the clear liquid swirl, “—stops your heart. It’s quiet and clean. You won’t scream, even if you want to.”
My blood turned to ice.
“And this one?” She lifted another syringe. “It puts you in a coma. It could be a few days or maybe even weeks. Depends on how strong your body is.” Her grin widened. “There’s a reversal agent, of course. But you would have to be fortunate to get your hands on it.”
This wasn’t a threat. It was a game, and I was the toy. Tears burned at the back of my eyes, and I tried to steady my breathing. Squeezing my eyes shut, I drew in a sharp breath. The click of a door unlocking jolted me back to reality. I turned my head, my pulse roaring in my ears.
Marco and Renat entered wearing hospital coats and surgical masks. Every muscle in me locked tight; I knew nothing good followed them.