Chapter Seven
Emilia’s POV.
Friday night was tense, with Viktor seething over my escape attempt while I sat frozen at the foot of the bed. He shuffled around, clearly not expecting me to pick up on his annoyance as he not-so-quietly huffed and puffed. When he finally dropped his phone on the right nightstand and turned towards me, his gruff “Go to sleep, it’s late,” was further confirmation.
Thankfully, the bed was large enough for me to sleep on the left side with ample space between us. The only problem was that sleeping itself was quite hard. I couldn’t stop wondering if I’d be able to escape and if my dad really wouldn’t come for me. Exhaustion eventually caught up with me somewhere inbetween my thoughts, and I woke up to a bright room and an empty bed.
It was my first day as someone’s wife, and nothing was like what I’d always imagined-well, except for the wardrobe of new, sexy lingerie in the closet. One would think that, upon marrying the opposite of the man of my dreams, I would now be focused on the way forward in my situation. But I couldn’t help contrasting my current situation with how I had always planned and hoped it would be.
A different staff member knocked and brought me breakfast just as I was stepping out of the closet in a fresh outfit. I had chosen the knee-length floral dress for its long sleeves and the softness of the cotton fabric. Not that there weren’t several casual outfits to choose from in the first place.
Hours later, I found myself in bed with nothing to do and too much to think about. I knew it was lunch when the knocks came again.
“Come in,” I called, dragging my upper body off the bed.
“I brought your food, ma,” the same middle-aged woman informed as she entered the room with another tray.
“Again,” I stressed, chuckling as she took the tray to the stool between the dresser and the leather sofa.
“I...it’s lunch ma,”
“I know. Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude or anything,” I rushed, standing from the bed.
“I understand, ma,” she offered, smiling.
“I wish I did,” I mumbled. “Please, let’s not do the ‘ma’ thing. I’m Emilia. What’s your name?”
“I’m Mina, but I can’t address you by your name, ma. It’s a disrespect to the Pakhan,” she explained.
“Tell him I insisted. That’ll transfer whatever the penalty is to me, right?” I pointed out, approaching the sofa beside her.
“The…I don’t…”
“Okay, tell him I forced you to, tell him whatever. Come on, what are the odds of him being here when we talk?”
She sighed, and I took it as a wordless concession.
“Please, sit. There are no rules against conversation, I hope.”
“Not really,” she answered with a giggle as she sat on the sofa. “It would have been, but Sir Viktor specifically asked my sister and me to make you comfortable and do anything you wanted.”
“Oh.”
The thought of Viktor asking his staff to do my every bidding shouldn’t make me feel warm inside, but it did. Even the memory of his threat last night wasn’t enough to overshadow how it made me feel cared for.
Am I losing my mind?
“You’re special to him,” she disclosed, her voice even more gentle.
“Of course, I’m more valuable alive,” I answered. “You mentioned a sister. Are you…”
“I’m Ksenia’s aunt; her mother is my older sister.”
“Wow. I should have seen the resemblance.”
Her chestnut brown eyes were the same as Ksenia’s, even though she wasn’t as skinny.
“She handles serving food, but there is a different arrangement for the Pakhan’s suite, from the cleaners to the dry cleaners. I serve the food up here. We all cook, but my sister is the main cook.”
