25. Alexia
25
Alexia
D ave doesn’t answer when I ask him to stay and talk. He stalks out of the sunroom, leaving a void that echoes louder than the roar of his Maserati. As the sound fades, so does the fragile hope that our reunion might have mended more than it broke, or the illusion that our story could have a happy ending.
“I’ve just lost the only man I’ve ever loved,” I mutter to the empty room. And this time, I know it’s forever.
There’s nothing I can say or do to revert this situation, not when telling Dave the truth is what caused him to despise me.
The soft light of the setting sun spilling across the sunroom does nothing to appease my spiraling thoughts. Dragging my feet, I move past the wicker chairs and loveseat, ignoring their cozy charm. Their plump cushions in pastel colors were so inviting hours ago. Now, they just mock the chaos raging inside me.
I get to the wide French doors and press my palms against the glass panes. The cool glass beneath my palms does nothing to anchor me; instead, it mirrors the chill settling in my chest. I stare out at the tangle of greenery that’s getting darker by the minute. The faint rustle of the trees and the lulling crash of waves don’t calm my frayed nerves as they usually do.
I skim the reflection of my face in the glass. The eyes look hollow, as if they’ve been emptied of all light. But they are mine, holding only the residue of everything I’ve lost. Rose is all I’ve got now.
Rose . My daughter’s name brings a fresh batch of suppressed tears. They prickle the back of my eyes as I swallow hard.
Her laughter slices through the quiet, the sound too innocent for the weight of our reality. She’s still outside, talking with Pete about pirates and mermaids, under the watchful eyes of Nadya.
My heart stutters with guilt and yearning. My little girl has no clue how much danger lurks just beyond the safety of these walls.
Stepping outside, I call her, “Rose, it’s getting dark, sweetheart.” My entrance breaks their animated conversation. “Nadya, could you take Rose upstairs, get her a nice bath, and dinner later? I’m sitting this one out.”
Nadya’s gaze flickers toward me, and for a heartbeat, I see a question simmering in them. She’s too discreet to ask it, though. She nods. “Of course, Mrs. Lenko.” She turns to Rose, a soft smile curving her lips. “Come on, little bunny. And you as well, my fearless king of the seas,” she adds, including her son. “Let’s get you two ready for dinner.”
Rose’s wide emerald eyes search mine as if sensing the storm roiling in my head. “You coming, too, Mama?”
The fragile hope in her voice shatters me.
Kneeling in front of her, I force a smile. “Not tonight, moy zaychik. Mama’s tummy is hurting.”
Her tiny brows knit, making her seem far wiser than her four years. With a little sigh, she presses her warm lips to my cheek. “This will make you feel better.”
“Already am,” I state, heartache blocking my throat as I kiss her forehead, inhaling the comforting scent of lavender.
It takes all I’ve got not to cling to her, not to allow my own despair to spill out like the tidal wave it is.
Nadya places one hand on Rose’s shoulder and another on Pete’s, turning them toward the house. Before the nanny leaves, her gaze catches mine. “Is there anything I can do, ma’am?”
Her sincere concern for me cracks my brittle armor, but I tighten it again. I won’t collapse in front of my child. “Thank you, Nadya, but there’s nothing.”
She studies me for a beat longer, reading the unspoken words in the tight set of my mouth and the faint tremor in my hands. With a gleam of quiet understanding in her eyes, she leads the kids away with a gentle touch.
I return to the sunroom, where I allow my knees to finally buckle. I sink into the nearest chair, staring out at the gathering dusk as if it holds answers to questions I’m too scared to say aloud. A sudden creak from the floorboards behind me snaps my gaze to the doorway, but there’s nobody there.
As the last rays of sun die outside, the scent of old wood mingles with the faint tang of lemon from the candles. The house is quiet with a kind of silence that threatens to unravel me.
My head spins, the rush of blood in my veins deafening. I cover my face with my hands, straining to block out the roaring chaos.
It does not, obviously.
I can’t think straight with a category-five hurricane churning in my mind.
Dropping my hands to my lap, I sweep my gaze across the room, desperately searching for an answer, for something that could actually help me out right now.
My eyes land on the cellphone I left on the side table when I picked up a book to read, before Dave came home a lifetime ago.
I grab it, find Olivia’s number with trembling fingers, and push down the call button. I press the phone to my ear and lean back against the wicker chair. Each ring tightens the knot in my stomach, stretching out time just enough for panic to take root.
Before it can bloom, Olivia answers my call, “Alexia?” Her voice comes out breathless, strained.
“Olivia, I need to talk to you.”
“I’m so sorry. I’m in the middle of something. I need a second, Lex. I’ll call you right back.” The line goes dead before I can reply.
The silence on the other side of the line hits me like a slap.
Seconds stretch into minutes, the ticking of the antique clock on the mantel increasing my sense of doom. Sweet relief floods me when the phone buzzes again.
“I’m back,” Olivia says when I pick up the call. Her voice sounds softer now, despite an edge that’s not common for her.
I’m just so thankful to have her on the phone, I won’t overthink this. It might just be my own desperation coloring her reactions in the darkness that surrounds me.
“I told him, Olivia,” I gasp, feeling the band of steel crushing my chest loosening slightly. “I told Dave about Rose.”
Her sharp intake of breath crackles through the line. “And how did he take it?”
The proverbial thorn twists in my side. “He stormed out. Said he needed time to process the information.” I swallow hard and add, “I’ve lost him, Liv. This time, I’ve lost him forever.”
“I doubt that. He just needs time. Who wouldn’t?” she mutters, before adding, “He’ll come around, trust me.” Her words come out rushed, as if she’s trying to end the call. Something in her tone feels clipped. Unease tickles the back of my mind, but my own panic smothers the thought.
The rasp in her voice worries me. “Liv, have you been crying?”
“No,” she replies, too quickly. “I’m under a lot of pressure, that’s all. At work, I mean.”
Guilt pricks at me. I say softly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pile more problems onto your shoulders.”
“Don’t say that.” She cuts my pity party short. “I’m always here for you. You know that. It’s just that now is really a bad time,” she confesses.
“Thank you for picking up my call.” I try to smile, though she can’t see me. “You’ve already helped. I’ll let you go, then.”
“Love you, Lex. Never doubt that,” she whispers, ending the call before I can manage to respond.
Despite our brief conversation, I feel lighter, as if I’ve given away a small piece of my fear to someone strong enough to carry it. Olivia has always had that effect on me.
Glancing at the clock, I realize Dave is probably not coming back tonight. It’s past ten without any sign from him. I push up from the chair, my limbs weighted by my gloomy emotions. I sluggishly make my way down the hall. The floorboards creak beneath my bare feet as I make my way up the winding staircase toward Rose’s room.
I tiptoe inside the sweet sanctuary, walls painted in pale cream with delicate blue accents. She’s curled in the middle of the bed, hugging her most trusted friend, Doggy. Her breath comes even, her lashes fanned out on her soft cheeks. My heart clenches at the sight of her, so blissfully unaware of the evils in our world.
I slide under the covers, wrapping my arm around her tiny frame, careful not to wake her. Her warmth seeps into me, anchoring me, even as worry claws at my insides.
Sleep doesn’t come easily. When it does, it’s restless, broken by the phantom echoes and distant shadows lurking on the edges of my consciousness, until even dreams feel dangerous.
W hen I finally drift into deeper slumber, gunshots shatter the quiet like a jagged knife. The first distant crack yanks me upright. My heart hammers against my ribs, an erratic drumbeat that echoes in my ears. Before I can reach for Rose, the door bursts open with a force that rattles the hinges.
Panic sends my mind into overdrive, but I sigh in relief when I make out Nadya’s silhouette against the dark doorway. Her pale face makes her eyes wider. Strands of her hair stick to her damp forehead.
“We have to go. Now,” she gasps. “The house is under attack.”
Adrenaline surges through me, hot and relentless. Rose stirs, blinking up at me with sleepy confusion that turns to panic as another round of gunfire erupts, louder this time, closer. Her small fists curl into my sundress, the same one I wore yesterday. She buries her face against my shoulder. “Mama, what’s happening?” Her voice wobbles, thick with fear.
The raw innocence in her tone stabs at me, igniting the desperate urge to protect that only a mother knows.
“It’s okay, moy zaychik, it’s okay,” I whisper, pressing my lips to her hair.
But it’s a lie. Nothing is okay.
My eyes dart to Nadya, who has already stepped into the room, scanning for threats with the sharp precision of someone used to danger. Pete clings to her hand, wearing the same drowsy and fearful expression as Rose.
“We need to get to the bunker,” Nadya urges me. Her gaze flicks to Rose, softening for the briefest moment before returning to me. “Ma’am, we have to go.”
I nod, my throat too tight for words. Rose’s small body trembles as I pull her from the bed, her wide eyes searching mine for answers I can’t give. “Mama, where’s Doggy? I need Doggy.” She starts crying, and thick tears roll down her cheeks.
My chest tightens as my gaze darts around the room. The stuffed dog Rose has clung to since infancy is nowhere in sight.
“We don’t have time,” Nadya presses me, but my daughter’s whimpers stab through me. Ignoring the nanny’s good sense, I scour the room with desperate eyes, my heart pounding. I won’t let tonight become another regret etched into my soul. I spot the brown ear of Doggy peeking out from beneath the quilt at the edge of the bed.
I snatch it and hand it to Rose. Relief softens her expression as she clings to it, tucking the toy against her chest. But the reprieve is short-lived. Another series of gunshots rip through the night air, this time followed by the unmistakable sound of shattering glass.
“Let’s go!” Nadya’s voice slices through the chaos, her arm guiding us out of the bedroom.
We move as one, a tangle of limbs and gasping breaths, rushing down the dimly lit hallways, crouching behind paneled doors until it’s safe to cross to the next hiding spot. The house that once felt like a fortress now echoes with the clash of battle—boots thundering against the polished wood, groans, and curses slicing through the air. The acrid scent of gunpowder seeps into the stairwell, sharp and suffocating, as we rush downstairs.
When we turn a corner, my heart stutters at the sight of Dave’s men locked in combat, their dark silhouettes against the broken moonlight spilling through shattered windows. One of them, a broad-shouldered man named Phil, catches my eye for a split second before turning back to fire at the attackers crawling through the splintered frames. The echo of gunfire rattles through me, shaking me to the core, but Nadya pulls me forward.
At the end of the corridor, a wall sconce casts a weak light on a bookcase. Nadya’s fingers move with urgency, finding a thick leather-bound volume that sticks out like an ancient secret. When she presses on it, a soft whir of gears fills the air, and the bookcase shudders, sliding back with a reluctance that suggests it hasn’t been used in years.
“We’re almost there,” Nadya says, a tremor in her voice betraying the fear she must be fighting to suppress.
I clutch Rose tighter, the thud of her heartbeat matching my own as we step forward. The metallic sheen of a thick, reinforced door stops me. Nadya punches in a code with shaking fingers. The keypad blinks green, and the door cracks open with a hiss, revealing a dark stone staircase that descends into shadows. Pete darts inside, his small feet pattering down the steps.
As I move to follow, an iron grip clamps around my arm, yanking me back. The jolt is so sudden that I stumble, twisting to face my assailant.
“Jonathan, thank God it’s you.” I exhale, addressing one of Dave’s most trusted guards. “You have another escape route?”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Lenko,” he mutters, his voice raw.
My blood curdles when I try to move and his hands keep me planted to the spot. “Jonathan?” The word barely scrapes past my lips, disbelief mingling with dread as I stare at him. “What are you doing?”
He looks haunted, eyes shadowed and desperate. “Igor has my son. He’ll kill him if I don’t cooperate.”
Nadya’s scream pierces my ears, sharp and jagged. My heart lurches as I turn, dread pooling in my stomach. Igor stands behind her, eyes dark and sharp like polished onyx, the thin scar slashing across his face from brow to cheek is the eternal reminder of the violence woven into his life. His arm coils around the nanny’s neck, fingers pressing deep into her pale skin. She gasps, eyes wide with terror, her breaths ragged.
“Long time no see, dear wife,” Igor drawls, his voice smooth and venomous. He flexes his arm, and Nadya’s face turns a ghastly shade, her eyes rolling back as she claws at his forearm.
“Daddy! Don’t hurt her. I promise I’ll be a good girl,” Rose begs, clutching Doggy.
“You’re the sweetest girl,” I whisper, kissing her temple. “Hug Mama tight, my love.” She snuggles her face against my neck and I focus on Igor, pleading, “Let Nadya go! You have me. And Rose. You don’t need her!”
Igor’s eyes narrow, lips curling into a sneer. “Don’t tell me what to do!” A blade flashes when he twists his wrist. Before I can scream, he drags it across Nadya’s throat.
Time slows to a crawl, every detail etching into my mind with vicious clarity. Her widening eyes, their light fading fast, the dark crimson soaking the collar of her blouse. When her body crumples, lifeless, to the floor, it jolts me back into action. I shield Rose’s face with trembling hands, her sobs tearing through my heart.
“No!” The word rips from me, hoarse and strangled.
Igor steps forward, his boots splashing in the growing pool of blood. His tailored suit, pristine even in the chaos, speaks to the chilling control he wields. He leans closer, the sickly scent of expensive cologne and cruelty filling my nostrils. “This is on you, Alexia,” he says, the coldness in his voice biting deeper than any knife. The lines carved deep into his face deepen as he sneers. “She didn’t have to die. You killed her when you defied me.”
His hand lashes out, striking my cheek. Pain explodes in my vision, and he strikes the other side of my face.
I stagger, clutching Rose tighter as she wails, the sound piercing and raw.
“Make the little imp shut the fuck up,” Igor barks, his gaze flicking to Jonathan.
I barely have time to react before Jonathan lunges, his eyes dark with regret. I twist and thrash, covering Rose with my body to block his advances. I manage to land a punch to his jaw that snaps his head back. But he’s stronger. A needle scrapes my arm when Jonathan yanks Rose away from my grasp.
He pricks her neck with it. I scream. “Rose! No!”
The tranquilizer takes effect fast and her little body goes limp in his arms.
A movement near the entrance to the bunker catches my eye. Igor is kneeling there, a twisted smile on his lips.
“Come on, little man. Don’t be shy.” His sugary tone sickens me.
As Pete steps out, his gaze lands on his mother’s body. Shrieking, he tries to go to her. Igor intercepts him, pressing Pete against himself, running his large hands along the boy’s small back. “Shush, now. You’re such a gorgeous boy.”
Pete’s anguished cries cut me. The sight of Igor stroking Pete makes bile rise in my throat.
“Leave him alone, you pervert!” I lunge.
Igor punches the top of my head, darkening my vision. I shake my head and go at him again.
Igor kicks me between my legs. I fall to my knees.
He kicks my kidney. I can’t breathe. I wheeze as I crumble to the floor. He kicks me in the face.
“Grab the slut. Let’s get out of here.”
Then all fades to black.