“You did your family proud today,Pakhan,” he said.
“To finally satisfying our revenge,” Pyotr toasts, and his men tip their glasses higher. “Za zdaróvyye.”
“Za zdaróvyye!” they echo, downing their shots of top-shelf vodka like water.
“Anika, another,” Pyotr commands, planting his glass on the marble-topped side table to his right.
Wordlessly, I head back to the wet bar to prepare a second round, the ball of dread in my stomach tightening.
I hate it when my husband comes home in one of these moods.
Yes, he’s happy now, but it won’t last as long as the liquor will, and once his guests leave, he’ll turn his sights on me.
By the fifth round, it seems that they’re running low on stories of the day, as one of Pyotr’s captains, slurring slightly now, talks about watching a burning Chiaroscuro man throw himself off the back terrace for the second time in the last hour.
“We’ve already heard that one, Daniil,” Pyotr complains, his eyes lingering on me as I fill his glass once again.
My hands start to tremble, my body responding to the attention before he’s even laid a finger on me, and that familiar sense of tiny insect feet crawling over my skin makes my breath shaky as I try to stay composed.
“Perhaps it’s time we turn to a different topic of conversation. For instance, has anyone noticed how beautiful my wife looks today?” Pyotr says.
It’s a twisted question, really, a catch-22 for his men, because if they say theyhavenoticed, it would indicate they’ve been coveting his wife.
But if they haven’t noticed, then it’s an insult to one of Pyotr’s prized possessions—a bride he paid dearly to obtain.
He must be getting bored—and drunk—if he’s already moving on to his games.
“You certainly have an eye for quality, Pyotr,” Akim says, skillfully sidestepping the trap with a roundabout compliment that turns the praise back to my husband.
Gratitude rushes through me at his quick thinking, and I hope, the drinking won’t escalate into violence tonight.
But the relief is short-lived.
Because Pyotr’s not looking for a fight.
He’s looking for a punching bag, and as his meaty arm snakes around my waist, pulling me onto his lap, I know my part in his game has only just begun.
“Yes, she would be just about perfect, wouldn’t she? If only my pretty littlepizdaweren’t barren,” he says, his fingers brushing my hair back over my shoulder in an almost tender way to expose my neck.
I fight the urge to cringe as he leans in, running his nose along my exposed throat and inhaling deeply, but I know better than to pull away—or talk back, even if my cheeks are burning withhumiliation at the open way he airs our dirty laundry in front of his men.
“Honestly, Anika’s lucky I chose to let her family live, even after they sold me damaged goods,” he continues, running his hands over the curves of my body and playfully nipping my ear as his men watch on, the alcohol making them more brazen.
The scent of liquor on Pyotr’s breath makes my stomach knot, and I shove the feeling of revulsion deeper into the darkest recesses of my mind so I don’t do anything to provoke him—like defend myself, or tell him the truth of the matter.
He would only get violent if he found out that the real reason I haven’t given Pyotr an heir is not because I can’t get pregnant—it’s because I haven’t tried.
I’ve been intentionally avoiding sex with him.
Most of the time, if he’s not wasting his energy sleeping with the girls that work at his clubs, when my husband comes home frisky, I get him drunk enough to fall asleep before things can go too far.
And if he does press the issue, I make sure he’s too far gone to realize I’ve been finishing him off in other ways.
Because I can’t think of anything more cruel than bringing a child into this world.
“If she weren’t so beautiful, I probably would have replaced her by now, gotten myself a wife that could provide me with an heir like she was supposed to. What do you think,pizda?” he teases me, his hands firm on my hips as he stage whispers against my ear so all his men can hear. “Maybe it’s time I take a proper wife. I could makeyoua present for my men.”
I actually could have appreciated the first part of his suggestion.
