Lara
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I jolted upright in bed, yanked from the suffocating grip of a nightmare that felt all too real.
The looming dread of Ivan’s return hung over me like a storm cloud, ready to burst. His facade of tenderness had shattered quickly, revealing the dark reality beneath.
He had left me bound, a possession to reclaim, much like Dmitri before him, intent on forcing an heir from me.
I knew the next time Ivan visited, his intentions would be undeniably clear. My resistance had only earned me punishment, a bitter reminder of his control. But fate had intervened, as one of his men had disrupted his vile intentions just in time.
Now, I lay exposed, stripped of dignity and clothing, my wrists and ankles bound, legs spread wide as if I were a sacrificial offering. Hot tears traced paths down my cheeks, mingling with the emerging bruises that painted my skin in shades of blue and purple.
I gingerly ran my tongue over the cut on my lower lip, the metallic taste of blood a reminder of his bite. I had retaliated when he forced his tongue into my mouth, but the victory was hollow.
Why had I removed the tracker? Now Dmitri will never find me.
I tried to push away the thoughts of what awaited me when Ivan returned, clinging to the fragile hope that perhaps he wouldn’t come back. Perhaps the urgent matter that had called him away would keep him occupied indefinitely.
But the ominous clatter of keys echoed from outside the door, signaling Ivan’s return to complete his sinister plans. Yet, despite the terror, a small comfort remained: he would never claim the heir he so desperately desired. The birth control implant beneath my skin would see to that.
As I lifted my head, I noticed Ivan’s approach was different this time. He bypassed the bed with an air of urgency, rushing to the small dresser and hastily pulling out various pieces of clothing.
His movements were tense, filled with frantic energy as he hurried back to me, quickly undoing the restraints around my ankles and wrists, his actions lacking their usual cruel precision.
“Hurry, put these on,” he commanded, tossing the garments in my direction. His eyes flicked nervously from the open door back to me, a sense of urgency in every movement.
The thought of escape flitted briefly through my mind, but I preferred the idea of making a run for it clothed rather than exposed.
With swift, practiced motions, I slipped into the plain underwear, feeling the fabric’s cool touch against my skin, and then donned the silk nightgown, its texture smooth and whisper soft.
I considered asking him what was happening and where we were headed, but the words died on my lips. It was futile. I was his prisoner, a captive in a situation not of my choosing, and he had no intention of sharing his plans with me.
His grip was like a vise as he seized my arm, yanking me off the bed and propelling me toward the door.
The surroundings were unfamiliar, yet I could tell it was an old, deserted building.
Crumbling walls and faded paint suggested it might have once served as an apartment or office building.
As he dragged me up the cold, hard concrete steps, I stumbled, causing his grip to falter momentarily.
This was my opportunity. I spun around, desperate to flee, but his hand shot out, fingers tangling painfully in my hair, yanking me back with a force that left strands behind.
“That was a dumb move, Lara,” he hissed, his breath hot and close against my ear, laced with menace.
“Just let me go.” My words were intended as a plea but emerged as a bold demand, my voice edged with defiance.
“My sweet Lara. I’m never letting you go,” he laughed, a cruel, mocking sound that dismissed my request as absurd.
With a firm grip, Ivan maneuvered me up the steps, his body pressed tightly against mine, a constant reminder of his control. I felt the low rumble of his cell phone vibrating in his pocket, a subtle disturbance in the tense atmosphere.
“What is it?” he barked, irritation dripping from his voice as if the caller were nothing more than an unwelcome interruption.
The voice on the other end was muffled and frantic, its tone conveying urgency even if the words were indistinct. Something significant was unfolding.
“Once we are out, torch the place,” Ivan commanded through gritted teeth, his instructions clipped and precise.
“Leave them. Meet me on the roof when it’s done.”
“What’s going on?” I asked, struggling to break free from Ivan’s iron grip on me. His fingers dug into my arms like steel clamps, leaving me feeling trapped and desperate.
“Something I should have done long ago,” Ivan replied venomously, his voice dripping with malice. I was left to wonder what dark intentions lay behind his cryptic words.
Before I could piece together what was happening, the explosive sound of gunfire erupted below us, echoing through the burning building like a violent symphony.
Ivan remained oblivious to the chaos, his determination unwavering as he forcefully dragged me through the smoke-filled corridors.
My efforts to resist felt futile, as if I were trying to fight against an unstoppable force.
It had to be Dmitri who had made Ivan so tense. Perhaps Angelo. I wasn’t sure who, to be honest. All I wished for was someone to come for me, someone to rescue me from this living nightmare.
“Is that fucking smoke?” Dmitri’s voice resonated through the stairwell, cutting through the gunfire and chaos like a lifeline.
“Dmitri,” I screamed, my voice raw with desperation, echoing from the depths of my throat.
“Lara.” His voice reached me, a beacon of hope amidst the turmoil.
“No,” I gasped, struggling against Ivan’s unyielding hold as an explosion of smoke filled the stairwell, stinging my eyes and lungs.
His brutal grip against my body shattered my cries, a painful reminder of my helplessness against his formidable strength. “You can cry all you want. Nothing is going to save Dmitri now,” he sneered.
At the end of the stairwell, Ivan shoved open the heavy metal door, and a rush of fresh air filled my lungs. We had reached the rooftop of the old building, a desolate place where I understood my fate awaited. There was nowhere left to flee.
In the distance, the rhythmic chopping of helicopter blades sliced through the night air. I glimpsed the faint illumination of blinking lights as they approached the building, a beacon in the darkness.
The crashing of the metal door behind us drew my attention, wrenching my gaze from the sky. Four men emerged, rifles in hand, clad in black combat gear and red balaclava masks. Yet my eyes were drawn beyond them, to the man who followed.
“Dmitri.”
“It’s over, Ivan. Let her go.” Dmitri stood firm, his gun trained on Ivan with unwavering precision.
“Do you honestly think I would let her go?” Ivan roared, yanking me closer, his grip tightening as if to underscore his defiance, his gun pressed to my side.
“I’m not going to let you take the only woman I have ever loved away from me,” Dmitri warned, his voice a low, dangerous growl that carried through the tense air.
Loved. Did Dmitri just say he loved me? The word echoed in my mind, momentarily distracting me from the perilous situation.
“You have never loved anyone in your life. You don’t know how to love,” Ivan retorted, his voice dripping with venom.
“You’re wrong,” Dmitri shot back, his eyes burning with intensity.
“I would never harm the people I love. You killed my father, your brother, your own blood. You killed Lidia Zhukov, the woman you claimed to love.” Dmitri moved closer, his steps deliberate and measured, while the four men surrounding us stood their ground.
“The word love isn’t even part of your vocabulary. ”
“Your father deserved to die,” Ivan snarled, his face twisted with rage. “He killed your mother, my Irina. He took my little Ana from me.”
“You raped her. Just like you raped Lidia,” Dmitri’s voice cracked with raw emotion, each word drenched in palpable pain. “You are nothing but a monster.”
Before I could fully grasp what was unfolding, I felt Ivan’s grip on me slacken, and suddenly, the weight of my body was pulled downward, gravity taking hold.
I rolled off his now limp form to find Ivan’s eyes fixed on me, staring blankly into the void—a bullet hole placed with chilling precision between them.
Tears welled in my eyes as I crawled away from his lifeless body on all fours. Shock, terror, and helplessness surged through me, my body trembling as I rocked back and forth, unable to tear my gaze away from Ivan’s vacant stare.
Warm, strong arms enveloped me, lifting me from the cold, hard rooftop. The familiar scent of Dmitri enveloped my senses, grounding me in the reality of what had just transpired. I wrapped my arms around his neck, clinging to him as though he were my lifeline.
“You’re okay, kukolka . I’ve got you,” he whispered softly, holding me tightly against his solid frame, his voice a soothing balm amidst the chaos.
~***~
We rode back to Dmitri’s mansion in a profound silence, the kind that hung heavy in the air, wrapping around us like an invisible shroud.
Words failed me; there was simply no language adequate to convey the tumult of emotions swirling inside.
My heart yearned for his embrace, for the solidity of his arms to anchor me in this storm.
I had always believed Dmitri to be the monster lurking in the shadows of my life, but now I knew it was Ivan who had stolen everything from me.
The dynamic between Dmitri and me had shifted dramatically, like tectonic plates realigning beneath the surface.
I confessed to him about the marriage license and the web of deceit Gavin had spun.
Despite my insistence that it no longer mattered, since Ivan was dead and I was technically a widow, Dmitri’s eyes darkened with a resolve to make Gavin answer for his actions.
The harrowing ordeal of being kidnapped and the looming threat of assault by Ivan had left me unable to eat. The mere thought of food brought a wave of nausea, not because of the sustenance itself, but because each morsel seemed laced with memories that haunted me whenever I closed my eyes.
Dmitri had a suspicion that I might be pregnant, a notion I dismissed with certainty. Yet to quell his worries, I agreed to see the doctor he had summoned to the mansion to examine me thoroughly.
I sat quietly on the bed, watching the doctor retreat as Dmitri entered the room, his presence a mixture of strength and vulnerability. There were countless things I wished to articulate, but words seemed trapped on the tip of my tongue, unsure of where to begin.
“How are you feeling?” Dmitri asked softly, his voice a gentle murmur as he sat beside me on the bed.
“Better. The doctor gave me something to calm my upset stomach,” I replied, maintaining my stance that my queasiness stemmed solely from the trauma of the past twenty-four hours, not from pregnancy.
“Does it hurt?” he inquired, lifting his hand tenderly to my lips, his fingers brushing lightly over my cut and bruised mouth. “Did he…”
“He didn’t,” I assured him, placing my hand over his, seeking comfort in his touch. “Did you mean what you said? Am I the only woman you’ve ever loved?”
“Every word,” Dmitri assured me, leaning in to press his lips gently against mine, a kiss full of promise and regret. “I should have never kept things from you. I should have told you about Angelo and your real father.”
“We both should have done things differently. I should have left the tracker inside me.” My voice trembled as tears began to well up in my eyes, blurring my vision.
The overwhelming emotion made it impossible for me to meet Dmitri’s gaze.
I couldn’t bear for him to see me so vulnerable, my heart laid bare.
“I shouldn’t have given you a reason to doubt,” he said softly, his voice laced with regret. Gently, he lifted my chin with his strong yet tender hand, turning my face toward his. His eyes held a depth of sincerity that seemed to reach into my very soul.
With a final, lingering kiss, he slowly descended to one knee, his movements deliberate and filled with purpose.
He looked up at me, his eyes shimmering with hope and love.
“I should never have forced you into marriage,” he admitted, his voice steady and full of conviction.
“I love you, Lara. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, no matter what the future holds. Whether we have children or not is inconsequential. All that matters to me is you. If you’ll still have me, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife? ”
My heart swelled with emotion as I nodded, tears now freely flowing down my cheeks. Wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his, feeling the warmth and certainty of his love. “Yes,” I whispered against his lips. “I love you too.”
We remained on the floor for a moment and then Dmitri’s cell began to vibrate in his pocket. He swiped a few screens, and a smile graced his face before he turned his cell toward me.
DR. ELLIOTT : Congratulations, Lara is pregnant. She will need to come in to determine how far along she is.