Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Georgi lets out another chuckle, giving the impression he’s not worried.
Suddenly, he looks past Boris, and his eyes collide with mine. I pull back, and as I hurry to my bedroom, I hear Georgi say, “I have to give you credit. Using the woman to lure me out of the hotel was good, but…”
I stop dead in my tracks to hear what he’ll say next.
“…my family will track you through her. Her face is on every camera in the hotel lobby. You fucked up, Boris.”
“Shut him up,” my father snaps angrily.
Boris comes stalking out of the room while the sounds of fists connecting violently with skin fill the air, and the instant he sees me, I scurry into my bedroom.
Before I can shut the door, he stops me and shoves it open. His hand swings through the air, the flat of his large palm burning across my face.
Boris grabs me by my throat, and face-to-face with the man who’s inflicted unspeakable hell on me, his breath wafts over my skin. “You think I don’t see the way you look at Torrisi? Wait until Anton hears about how you acted today.”
No!
It’s one of the sick ways Boris loves to torture me. Whenever I lure a man in to keep Simi from being hurt, Boris taunts Anton by telling him how I threw myself at the man. It always leads to Anton beating and raping me.
My father lets go of me, and I fall onto my back, my head missing the metal corner of my bed by an inch.
“Change out of that fucking dress, whore! You have work to do.”
I remain still until he leaves, then lifting a trembling hand to my throat, I suck in desperate breaths of air.
At the age of twenty-seven, you’d think I’d be used to the threats and abuse, but the fear and disgust never lessen. Instead, it becomes more potent every time I’m hurt and raped.
I picture myself darting up off the floor and running into the torture chamber, grabbing the hammer, and when I catch up to Boris, he’ll give me a look of surprise before I smash in his skull.
If only.
I climb to my feet and shut the door before I reach behind me to pull down the zipper of the dress.
The sounds of Georgi being beaten are muted by the wall between his cell and my bedroom, but I still hear them.
Right after Boris killed Mom, Anton was allowed to rape me. Boris said all my screaming and begging were annoying, so he moved me down here.
Now, only the walls, the guards, and whoever’s being tortured next door hear my screams.
I step out of the high heels and wiggle my toes while I open the closet doors. Grabbing a pair of black jeans, a T-shirt, and a jacket, I quickly change into the clothes.
I always try to cover as much skin as possible, so I don’t draw unwanted attention from the guards.
It’s also always cold in the basement, so I wear the jacket every day. Sitting down on the side of my bed, I put on my ballet flats before I pull a brush through my hair and tie it up in a ponytail.
Stepping out into the dimly lit hallway, I don’t look at the four men who stand guard when there’s a prisoner.
I take deep breaths and try to gather enough courage to face Georgi as I walk to the room beside mine.
It’s gone quiet while I was getting dressed, and I hope he’s unconscious.
I stop by the doorway and peek inside, but see that luck is not on my side.
With his arms held up by the shackles and chains, he’s standing with his feet spread wide. Once again, I can’t stop myself from looking at his incredible body, and even though he’s been beaten, the bruises don’t make him look any less attractive. If anything, they make him come across as more rugged and dangerous.
Georgi shakes his head and lets out a chuckle that sounds a little insane instead of playful like before. “Where has all your bravery gone, Nina?” He turns his head and locks eyes with me. “From deadly siren to scared mouse. That’s quite the change.”
His tongue darts out to swipe over the bleeding cut on his lip.
I take in the red blemishes on the left side of his chest, his busted lip, the bruising on his face, and the cut running through his eyebrow.
The gash on his head is my biggest worry.
Lowering my eyes to the floor, I walk into the room and go to the opposite corner where the cabinet holding all the medical supplies stands. I open the metal doors and take out a bottle of antiseptic fluid and a clean cloth.
It feels like I’m dragging my feet through sludge as I walk to where Georgi is restrained. I glance at him, and only then am I reminded of how tall he is.