At every turn, I was met with a guard who almost caught me, so I found my way up the stairs again and turned left. The guards seemed to have stopped the chase, yet I ran with my adrenaline pumping like never before.
A door stood ahead of me, and I stretched to touch the handle. After I gave it a good squeeze, I heard voices behind the door. I couldn't tell the voice of the other person, but I knew that he spoke to Viktor Lobanov. In shock, I released my hand from the handle. I reflected on the piercing gaze that made me gulp so hard, I feared he'd pull a gun to my head. Viktor had every chance to kill me, but he didn't. Instead, he did the opposite of what I expected him to.
Thinking about it, it seemed almost stupid of me to reply to a Mafia boss the way I did. The most powerful man in New York was definitely a million times stronger than my dad, and to crown the shame, I was just his collateral. l wasn't special, and I was never going to be special. The thought of me being one of his sex slaves made me want to give up, but the point at which I gave up was when a group of guards hastily walked towards me.
“Come with me. It's best if you stay in your room,” one of the guards said, and I followed him.
The maid brought my dinner shortly after I walked in. It had a nice aroma, but I’d lost my appetite. I couldn't shower or even move from where I sat. I felt defeated at everything. My life wasn't mine anymore, and my will was forcefully taken from me.
Later that night, the same maid who brought the silk dress walked in.
“Why didn't you eat your food, miss? It's already cold.” She uttered. “Let me cook you something nice now. It will make you feel better.”
“No, please, I'm not hungry.”
“But you must eat, miss. Sir Viktor told me to make sure that you eat something before your big day tomorrow.”
“Kindly tell him that I'm not eating anything unless he lets me go. I'm not his prisoner.”
“No, miss. I can take the food out of the room, but I cannot tell him what you said. I'm sorry.”
The minute she rolled the tray out of the room, I threw my face into the pillow and screamed until my head ached. Sadly, no one seemed to come around. I couldn't control the amount of tears that rolled down the side of my cheek.
Somehow, I wished to see Dad so I could give him the middle finger and say out loud to his face that he was a massive douche. I thought Viktor was the one I needed to hate, but now, I knew more than ever that I hated my father. He never stood on his word like the coward he was. A shameless, selfish, greedy nobody who had the guts to give me to a dangerous mafia boss whom I know nothing of.
I couldn't have walked alone, I said to myself. If only I had friends. If only I had let myself open up to those people who genuinely wanted to be my friends, maybe I wouldn't have been kidnapped. But no, I've always been cautious about lettingpeople into my life because of my father's status, which now seems useless to me. If only Mom were alive, none of this would've happened. I wouldn't be in this difficult mess. And as angry as I was with Dad, I was the more angry at myself for believing that those gifts Dad left behind meant something. It meant nothing to him, just as I meant nothing to him. How was I to know if he even loved Mom? All the sacrifices she had to endure to ensure that our family kept on surviving now felt like a waste.
“It's so unfair,” I shouted as I sat upright on the bed. “It's so fucking unfair.”
A shadow crossed the left side of my eye, and I stood up to observe what passed. It seemed to have come from the large opening in the window. I took cautious steps, terrified every step I made was a wrong move; it could be the last time I'd take a step. As I approached the window, the image became clearer, regardless of the translucency. Someone stood behind, and I was eager to know who.
The very moment I stuck my head out, I saw him. Viktor Lobanov stood silent and calm, almost like he was a statue of himself. I tried to stay calm, but I couldn't. Viktor had become my living nightmare, and I was terrified that he might've changed his mind and decided to kill me.
“Tomorrow, you become my wife,” he said in a tone as deep as the grave.
My body froze in the stinging cold, and my lips felt dry. I couldn't map out what he meant by that. I didn't know what it meant to be the wife of a mafia boss, hence my brain was a rush of thoughts and fears.
Is that a threat? A promise?
Could it be that he really wanted me to be his wife, or that being his wife meant something else entirely?
I walked back to the bed and removed all my clothes. The bathroom was in front of me, so I walked to it and filled the bathtub with cold water. I stepped in, shivering at the piercing cold until my whole body was immersed.
“This is it,” I said to myself. Viktor must have thought I wasn’t serious about dying before I became his wife. Too bad I was. I couldn't stand the thought of being forced to be part of this abomination against my will. My feet and body felt completely numb, and the thought of suicide came to me in a strong rush. I looked up to the marble ceiling, trying to hold on to my last moments. Yet, the only person who flashed across my mind was my mother.
“Don't do this, Emilia,” she pleaded and shook her head. “Don't.”
But it was too late. I had made up my mind, I definitely couldn't marry Viktor, regardless of all his power and influence. So with one last quick breath of air, I let my head sink down, and the cold water pinch at every bit of my skin.
Chapter Four
Viktor’s POV.
The time was 8:30 am, and the sun radiated with an orange flair that blanketed the room. For the first time in weeks, I inhaled the fresh air I had sought for a long while.
“This is it,” I said to myself. “I’m really doing this.”
It was Friday. The day I would be getting married. A marriage I didn’t have in mind 72 hours before.
