Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
My hands tremble as I wrap my arms around my stomach, shielding the life growing inside me. Suddenly I’m not just afraid of the man I fell for; I’m terrified for my child. How can I possibly bring a baby into a world this violent?
What the hell do I do?
How do I build a future with someone who kills people for a living? Even monsters can be charming. Especially the smart ones.
Some part of me, some deeply buried instinct, knew he wasn’t just a successful businessman. There were signs. I ignored them. I let myself believe that I didn’t need to know what he did for work, as long as he kept me and the baby safe. The baby he still doesn’t know about.
For the first time, I breathe a sigh of relief that I never told him. It’s the one thing I can still hold sacred. This baby deserves more than to be the child of a crime lord.
I don’t sleep. I don’t think I could if I tried. My body is exhausted and my eyes burn, but every time I close them, all I see are the headlines. The screenshots. The faces of men who’ve disappeared. Bloodied crime scenes. Anonymous videos talking about “consequences” and “retribution.”
I stand in the middle of my room, arms wrapped tightly around my waist. I stare at the door, half expecting it to burst open, Sergei striding in to drag me back to his bed. The thought of it makes me feel even sicker. I can’t let him touch me again until I have answers.
But truthfully, I don’t know if even that would be enough. The chasm is too wide now, and the image of him is completely shattered.
He never comes. The house remains still and quiet. Every time I look at my phone, I’m shocked by how little time has passed. I keep expecting hours to have gone by, only to find it’s been mere minutes. I finally get up and get dressed, but that doesn’t feel like enough.
I can’t stay here anymore. I don’t care how warm the sheets are, or how fluffy the towels are. I can’t think about how safe I once felt falling asleep in his arms. That was all a lie. A carefully constructed illusion built on manipulation and omission.
He let me fall for him knowing he’d buried bodies. That the same hands that held my face so gently had probably held a gun to someone else’s. And while he didn’t technically lie about running a shipping business, he didn’t mention that it was just a front for much more illicit activities. He played me.
How could I be so stupid?
I turn to the bed and stare at the tangle of sheets I just abandoned. How many times did I fall asleep in his arms, convinced our life was perfectly normal?
Nothing about any of this is normal.
Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them back because I won’t let myself cry over him. I can’t. I need to stay clear-headed for my baby. If I don’t get out now, if I don’t leave this house as soon as I possibly can, I never will.
I glance at the small suitcase I brought when I first moved in. It’s still sitting at the bottom of my closet. I drop to my knees and pull it out, tossing it open and immediately filling it with everything I can grab. Then I wonder, can I even go back to my apartment? He knows where I live. He probably has people who can trace my car and my debit-card transactions. I’ll need to get cash, and fast. Then I’ll need to ditch my car somewhere.
I don’t have a plan, but I’m good on my feet. Maybe Mia knows someone a few states away who’ll take me in. Maybe I’ll disappear entirely. But I can’t stay here, not another second.
My throat tightens as I think about Liliya. For the first time all night, I hesitate. I don’t know how much she does or doesn’t know, but I have to assume she’s aware. Maybe she wanted to tell me and she couldn’t. Maybe she’s just as much a victim of a man’s choices as I am.
I can’t leave without saying goodbye to her.
Quietly, I grab a hoodie and zip it over my tank top. I slip into a pair of sneakers and make my way down the hall, keeping my footsteps light. The lights are off, the corridor washed in moonlight. When I get to her bedroom, I crack the door open just enough to let the soft hum of her white noise machine drift out. I peek inside.
She’s fast asleep, looking utterly peaceful. She doesn’t look as frail as she did when I first arrived. She really is getting better.
I hesitate again. Every instinct in me wants to walk over and tell her goodbye. I want to thank her for everything she’s done for me, for being so kind and welcoming. I whisper it from the doorway instead.