Chapter 9
ALENIA GREEN.
I’m going insane,
Slapping men isn’t on my usual go–to list of things I want to do in life.
Burning clothes expensive enough to buy an entire island in the Caribbean isn’t what a poor person like me does.
In less than a week I’ve done all that.
The repercussions of that?
I hear his presence in the sound of his car trampling pebbles in the driveway.
I feel his anger when he calmly tells Juana to go. back to sleep and he’ll put out the fire himself.
The fire that I started in a fit of rage.
My balcony window has a perfect view of hist backyard.
I barely think before I act.
My unsteady feet get out of bed, slowly and
autiously trying not to wake Millie up, I tread. across my room straight to those closed balcony windows that show a perfect view of the night
with a full moon gracing the skies.
My eyes dart to the man slowly taking off his jacker
The man who somewhat makes darkness look like a land of rainbows and unicorns.
Why? Because he is bigger than the darkness. He is built and imbued with darkness so much that
the same darkness obeys him.
I see it in the way his muscles seem to come to
life as the moon casts a silver glint on him.
I see it in the way he picks a shovel from God knows where, scoops up soil from the ground and starts throwing the soil to the fire.
He does that once, twice and the third time, the
fire goes out.
He watches the fire dim down. Watches every piece of clothing he bought for me turn into a black churned crisp.
I should have burned his entire mansion and
escaped,
But today?
I saw the real Vicious. The Vicious that stormed through my house and threatened to kill me.
Every single place he touched on my neck has his handprints. How do I know? I checked.
I should feel scared. I should feel disgusted just like that night but I don’t.
ملا
Angry at him? Yeah. But scared? No.
Tonight?
Vicious turns around like I’ve summoned him, his
head angles up before I have the chance to hide and when our eyes lock, that’s when the real fear
claws at my neck.
***
“Pack any clothing you have; we are leaving for Moscow“, His words hit me like lightning in a freaking desert.
He’s in my room, barely looking at me or Millie who is in my arms right now.
“Moscow? As in Russia?”
“Stating what we already know delays us.”
In a snag suit that makes Forbes billionaires look like burglars from NYC, my kidnapper is as unhappy as an unadopted kid.
More than unhappy, his jaw ripples with
impatience, his eyes are so bland I feel like Millie
and I might just be walking into a tornado
without thinking.
Sweet Christian Volkov was an awkward man
straight from one of those
princess–gets–the–charming–prince types of
books.
Angry Christian Volkov liked choking people. Or
Setting
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more like choking me.
But this…this Christian Volkov looks at me like 1
just murdered his favorite puppy and he couldn’t
care less.
“Well, I sort of didn’t know we were going to
Russia today. Why do we have to go? I have never traveled outside the States before, I don’t even think Millie is qualified for travel,”
“The child stays here.”
I take a step back.
“I don’t care what business you
where I go, my child goes have in Russia but
No one is separating me from my child. This man might keep us here as prisoners but no one is separating me from Millie.
Not Rhett. Not my past. Not a scowling man who drips hotness every two to three seconds.
Volkov isks.
His hands in his dark suit, he takes precise and quick steps in my direction.
My feet scurry back while Millie sucks on my left tit unaware of the tension in the room and my heart a close second to falling on the floor.
“Lucky for you, I’m the boss, you are the employee as you boldly put it in that damn shower.”
Getting
I chuckle.
“You are forcing me to go to Russia because 1 kicked you out of the shower? What did you dunk would happen, Christian? That I’d get too
emotional and ask you to fuck me in your freaking store?”
I’m angry.
The nonsense spewing from my mouth is just that. Nonsense. Emotional nonsense.
“Say it again“, he corners me.
My throat goes dry.
“W–what?”
“Say my name.”
Christian.
“Vicious?”
“Don’t play with me, little nurse. Say. My, Name.” “I’m not going to Russia without my kid. You’d have to drug me to make me responsive and I know you are an asshole but drugging women is beneath you.”
The bastard lifts both of his hands.
One hand lands on my cheek, the other hand lands on Millie’s pink beanie.
I might have burned the clothes he bought me but I didn’t have the guts to burn Millie’s new
baby clothes because she needed them.
“Who do you think I am, Alexia?”
“A bastard who thinks he owns the world and us mere mortals are chess pieces to him.”
The small corner of his mouth tips up but it can hardly be called a smile.
“I own the world and you mere mortals are as uninteresting as the salad dressing on my plate. Quit playing games. Say my fucking name.”
I have always prided myself in following laws.
Right now? I say to hell with following orders.
“No“, I retaliate.
He smirks. The devilish grin makes shivers run down my spine faster than his words can,
“We leave in an hour.”
“Let me go. Let me go!”
Jett doesn’t let go in fact he drags me to the front
door like I’m nothing but a paperclip.
“Stop this. Vic, please“, Juana begs the man following behind us.
The man who ordered his lackey to drag me to the door itself should I offer any ‘resistance‘.
I can’t blame Jett for what he is doing but that
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doesn’t mean I don’t hate him at this point in
time.
“Take the child back to her crib”
“She has a name. H–Her nathe’s Millie“, my voice
weakens.
Please don’t do this, Please don’t separate us.
“Let her say goodbye, yes? Millic…she’ll need
milk, she’ll need to be breastfed.”
God bless Juana,
Vicious says something to Jett because Jett lets go
of me in an instant.
When he does, I run to Juana, I take my baby and I pray to the gods that Christian Volkov, Rhett, Jett, every single man I’ve met who’s turned to be a bastard to drop dead.
“Shh…shh, it’s okay. It’s okay. Mommy’s here, baby. Mommy’s not going anywhere.”
“Little nurse.”
“Anything, ask me anything but don’t separate me from my child. I’ll go as far as Egypt to treat your men but don’t take my child away from me.”
“Promise me.”
He uses the same words I said to him in the shower yesterday to blackmail me. To teach me a lesson because that’s what he does.
He teaches his slaves lessons about who he is and what he is capable of
“I promise to do everything you ask of me.”
txige my soul and my services to the devil. Twice,
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