CHAPTER 11
Rodian
Entering the room, there’s no sign of Anastasia, but then I notice she’s eaten, and it fills me with great satisfaction.
I want all her curves back.
While she’s been resting, I received confirmation of Yegor’s death from the Cosa Nostra. I sent out the proof to his three associates and best friend, along with the message that I’m marrying Anastasia.
I’ve received word from the associates, stating they will only believe it if they see us exchange our vows.
I told them to be patient and that they’ll get their invites soon.
After breaking the news to Anastasia that we’re getting married, she reacted with fear. I’m not sure it’s because of the marriage or the trauma she suffered.
The sound of running water gets my attention, and walking toward the shut bathroom door, I knock on it. “I have clean clothes for you.”
It’s been four days. I need to get Anastasia her own clothes. In the meantime, she’s been wearing mine, and even though I love her in my shirts, I’m dying to see her in a pretty dress.
When she doesn’t answer, I knock again. “Anastasia?”
I glance down, and the sight of water seeping through under the door has me slamming it open.
I rush into the bathroom, and seeing Anastasia standing with her arms wrapped around herself, just staring off into space, I move past her and close the faucets.
Pulling the plug so the water will drain out, I turn to look at my future bride who’s only wearing a pair of my boxers.
Even with bruises marring her skin, it’s fucking difficult not to take in how beautiful she is. Starving her might’ve stolen some of her softness, but it couldn’t erase the masterpiece that she is.
Her waist curves into thick hips and a lush, rounded ass that strains against the fabric of my stretchy boxers, making my hands fucking itch to grab it.
Now is not the time to ogle her, fuckface!
“Anastasia?” I set the clothes down on the counter and move closer, water sloshing beneath my shoes.
When she still doesn’t do anything but stare ahead of her, worry pours hot and fast through me. As soon as I touch her shoulders, she hunches them and begins to tremble more.
“Hey.” I keep my tone as soft as possible as I pull her to my chest. “You’re safe, krasivaya.
” Remembering the first words she spoke when I saw her in that disgusting pen, I add, “I found you, moya krasavitsa. Remember? You’re home with me where nothing will hurt you.
” Pulling back, I frame her face, and finally her moss-green eyes move and lock on mine.
“There you are.” Relieved to get any reaction from her, I ask, “Are you okay?”
Instead of answering me, her features tighten and her complexion turns pale. Slowly looking down at where her arms are barely covering her nipples, her gorgeous breasts practically on full display to me, she rips free from my hold and rushes to the rail to grab a towel.
I get an eyeful of her luscious body, and unable to stop my cock from stiffening, I hightail it out of the bathroom.
“There are clothes on the counter,” I say before yanking the door shut behind me. Then the soggy carpet grabs my attention, and I curse, “Blyad?.”
Adjusting my rock-hard cock, I stalk out of the bedroom and at the top of the stairs, I call, “Miss Zoya, there was a water mishap and the carpet is wet. Come help.”
“Coming!”
I return to the bedroom, and when the door opens, I spot Anastasia’s bare feet in the water. I shoot forward, and as she gasps from my sudden approach and begins to backpedal, I haul her off her feet.
Her hands fly up and grip hold of my shoulders, her breath bursting near my neck. I carry her bridal style down the hallway and don’t stop until I reach my bathroom.
As I set her down on her feet, I say, “I’ll pour you a bath so you can soak. It will help you relax a little.”
After putting the plug in the jetted tub, I switch on the faucets before looking at Anastasia again. Gripping the counter with her left hand, she’s swaying on her feet, her eyes swimming with way too much fear.
I clear my throat, and even though every molecule in my body wants to hold and comfort her, I decide keeping my distance might be best for her right now.
Making sure the toilet lid is down, I gesture at it and say, “Sit while we wait for the tub to fill.”
Her movements are jittery as she does as she’s told, and bowing her head, I only catch a glimpse of her quivering chin before she hides it from my sight.
“What happened in the other bathroom?” I keep my tone as gentle as I can manage.
“I’m sorry…” Her voice is hoarse, and it breaks. “I didn’t mean to ruin the carpet. If you’ll let me, I’ll do my best to dry it before it’s permanently damaged.”
“I don’t care about the carpet.” My good intentions of giving her personal space fly out the window, and closing the distance between us, I crouch in front of her. “I want to know what happened to you. You seemed to be in some kind of trance.”
She ducks her head even lower, and I barely make out the words as she whispers, “I remembered.”
“What?” Lifting my hand, I gently brush some of her hair back before taking hold of her chin, nudging it up. The broken look in her eyes chills the blood in my veins.
“How… how they hit and kicked me.” Her breathing speeds up slightly, then the emotions drain from her face, and I watch as she slips back into the fucking trance.
Her tone is haunting as she whispers, “Svinya… Tolstukha… No food… Pigs don’t eat.”
Rage burns through me as I realize she’s recounting what she heard. The fuckers didn’t just starve her. They used insults to fucking break her.
“Disgusting.” Her voice takes on an eerie hollowness with every word.
“Too big… Laughing. They laughed and said that if they starved me… I’d finally look good enough for them to fuck.
” Her breathing speeds up drastically, and a tear slips free, rolling over her pale cheek.
“They raped the other women. Their screams... their pain...” Anastasia begins to rock, as if she’s trying to comfort herself.
“Crawl and grunt, pig... Blood…. So much blood.”
Iisus Khristos!
“Anastasia,” I murmur while quickly shutting the water off.
She doesn’t respond, and I lift my hand but stop before touching her. After everything she just told me, the thought of putting my hands on her without her permission feels wrong.
“Krasivaya, look at me,” I say, my tone gentle as if I’m talking to Artem when his anxiety is really bad.
It takes a few seconds before her eyes lift to mine, then I ask, “Can I hold you?”
Her eyebrows draw together, and when a sob bursts over her lips, I’m not sure whether she nodded or jerked.
Wanting to give her time to pull away, I slide my arm slowly around her and gently draw her against my chest.
Rage burns through me all over again, but beneath it is something far worse. An ungodly worry, because I have no fucking idea how to help Anastasia get back to the remarkable woman she was before our world destroyed her.
I gently rub my hand over her back and press my cheek to the top of her head.
For once in my life, I feel goddamn powerless. I can’t just give an order or pay to make a problem disappear.
When her breathing finally begins to even out, I reach for my phone and dial Dr. Kravets’ number.
I need someone to tell me how the fuck I’m supposed to fix her after my men broke her this badly, and the doctor is the only person I can think of.
“Mr. Volkov. Is everything okay?” he answers on the second ring.
“No. Anastasia needs help dealing with the trauma.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
I end the call and pull back so I can see her face. Noticing the broken look is gone from her eyes and that she just seems exhausted, I ask, “Do you still want to bathe, or should we get you to bed?”
She glances at the tub, then says, “Bathe.”
I hate leaving her, and standing up, I hesitate. “Will you be okay on your own?” Before she can reply, I add, “I can help, or if you’ll feel more comfortable with a woman, I’ll get Miss Zoya.”
Anastasia shakes her head. “I can manage.”
I glance over the shirt she’s wearing and how it only reaches to her mid-thighs. Not wanting the doctor to see her like this, I say, “Just give me a minute to get you something else to wear.”
Hurrying out of the bathroom, I go to my parents’ bedroom and open Mom’s side of the closet. I check through her dresses until I find one that’s loose-fitting.
When I pass Miss Zoya in the hallway, I say, “Anastasia will stay in my bedroom.”
“Can I bring her chamomile tea? It will help calm her.”
I nod at my housekeeper and rush back to my bathroom where Anastasia is still sitting on the closed toilet lid.
“I grabbed you something from my mother’s closet. Once you’re better, we’ll get you clothes.”
“All my belongings are still at Ms. Fedorova’s house.” She comes across as very cautious, as if she’s afraid of doing or saying something that might set me off, and I don’t like it one bit. “Maybe… if I’m allowed… I could go get everything.”
I set the dress down on the counter, and crouching in front of Anastasia again, I cup her cheek and capture her eyes with mine.
“I need you to hear me, krasivaya. You have nothing to fear from me. I will never harm a hair on your body. I’m so fucking sorry for what my men did to you.
I wish I had the ability to change the past five years, but I don’t.
However, I can promise you all the abuse and insults are in the past. I’m here and will do everything in my power to protect you.
” For a brief moment, I swear I see something akin to hope flicker in her eyes, so I keep going.
“I’m still the same man you got to know at the theater.
You trusted me back then and felt comfortable with me. Remember?”
She nods, the hope flickering to life again, but just like before, it’s short-lived. “But you’re the pakhan now.”
Wanting to know where her head’s at, I ask, “How does that change things?”
“It takes a bigger monster to control the evil you call your men.”
Her words slam into me like a ten-pound hammer, and it takes a few seconds for me to think about where to go from here.
“That might be true,” I reply with a dead serious tone. “But you need to understand something, Anastasia. Whatever kind of monster I am to rule the Bratva, I will never be around you.”
Knowing we don’t have much time before Dr. Kravets comes, I let out a sigh and say, “Bathe so you can get back to bed. I’ll be right outside the door if you need me.”
Getting up, I step out of the bathroom and pull the door shut. I glance around my bedroom, then grabbing one of the pillows, I toss it on the leather sofa where I’ll sleep for the time being.
Coming to a standstill, I stare at the shut door, wondering if I’ll ever be able to get us back to where we were when I kissed her goodbye outside the theater.