I nodded and slid against the seat, standing on wobbly legs. Ivan grabbed me suddenly, slamming me against the side of his car hard enough to dent it—another thing he would no doubt punish me for.
He stared at me for several long moments, his nostrils flared and his gaze enraged, like he couldn’t quite find his tongue to express how furious he was with me. I stood silent, my cheek throbbing, my eyes stinging with tears and my knees almost buckling, waiting for him to say something. Anything.
“I have given you everything and this is how you repay me,” he finally gritted out, “by whoring yourself around and making a fool out of me.”
I couldn’t speak.
I could barelybreathe.
Ivan clucked his tongue and pulled me away from the car and up the stairs. The front door was already unlocked, Decatur had beaten us home to return the other vehicle.
“Decatur!” Ivan yelled, the sound of his voice jumping off the walls erratically. “I need you to drive me tonight!” He looked at me after shouting, his expression growing ever more severe with the passing seconds. “I’ll have to pay him goddamn overtime, because of you. Do you think that I’m made of money?” He stalked toward me, fists raised. “If I hadn’t needed to come and collect your worthless ass, things would be settled with the Italians already. If you’ve cost me this business deal, Marisha, I’ll finish what Eduard Vasiliev started with your parents and you can join them in hell.”
My heart thumped against my ribs and I held back a whimper as my back hit the wall and I realized I had nowhere else to go. His fists slammed against the wall on either side of my head and I screamed in shock as the wall vibrated against my back.
“If I could rewind time, I’d never entangle myself with your family. I wouldn’t honor our engagement when your parents turned out to be worthless betrayers,” he said through gritted teeth his face an inch from mine. So close I could smell the vodka on his breath. “You’re trash and a whore, just like your mother was, Marisha.”
“Don’t talk about her like that!” I spat out, once again words slipping from between my lips before I had the good sense to stop them.
Ivan was stunned into silence.
But the quiet didn’t last long.
It never does before the storm.
His hands left the wall and he moved away from me. Far enough to study me, his anger melting into thoughtfulness.
“You think now’s a good time to grow a backbone. Is that it, wife?”
“No, Ivan. I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. I—,”
But I couldn’t finish my apology. It was his fist that stopped me, slamming into my already bruised cheek.
I saw stars, nausea rising in my throat as the pain flooded my body and assaulted my senses. I couldn’t stop my body from sinking down against the wall and slumping against the floor. I didn’t even have enough of my senses left to cry, all I could do was blink to clear my vision and gag against the pain.
“If I wasn’t in such a hurry, Marisha, I’d bring you to the edge of death now,” he warned through gritted teeth, his hand flexing above me, taunting me of what was to come. “But we’ll have to finish this later.” He narrowed his eyes, his mouth set in a hard thin line and I shuddered as I realized that this was just the start. This was just a taste of what would happen once he came home later.
“Decatur!” Ivan yelled and I pulled my legs up to my chest to protect my body from him. Ivan sneered down at me before turning away and shouting once again. “Decatur!”
“I’m ready, Sir. The Rolls is waiting.” Our chauffeur’s voice floated to me, hazy and muted. I blinked, finding another pair of legs hovering near the house entrance.
“Good. Let’s go.” Ivan’s pinstripe suit swished away from me.
“Sir, I’ve not had a chance to move your personal car--”
“Leave it for now, Decatur. There’s no goddamn time to waste.”
My face stung, but the rest of my body felt so numb, so hollow.
And the slamming of the front door, then the revving of the engine as Decatur drove Ivan away from the house, only served to seal my emptiness.
Like the knot at the bottom of an inflated balloon. Nothing inside to fill the space, yet somehow it managed to look full. That was me. Empty underneath the wounded human exterior.
I must have sat there on the cold floor for half an hour, until I was chilled and shaking. It took all of my willpower to stand up and walk on unreliable legs up the stairs towards the bedroom. I paused midway, glancing at my face in an ornate mirror that was more Ivan’s taste than my own. God, everything in the house was Ivan’s taste. Not mine. There was nothing here that represented me.
The reflective surface of the gilded decor blinked back at me.
A large purple-brown bruise circled my eye and bled down my cheek. I wondered if the bone was broken. There was a small gash as well, slicing down my lip. Blood dripped down my chin. He had finally done it, drawn blood.
