Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
His house became my personal hell. When we arrived, he showed me to the room that would be mine. I was grateful, at least, that he didn’t immediately move me into his room. When I went inside, though, none of my things were there. I knew my father had sent them all over, but the closet was full of new clothes.
“Where are my things?” I asked, turning on him.
“You have new things now,” was his simple answer.
It unsettled me, but I rationalized it. I was his fiancé now. It was a new era of my life, so it made sense that he would want me to have new clothes. I would have to learn how to dress like a pakhan’s wife now, not a pakhan’s daughter.
My first morning, a woman came to collect me at five in the morning. The sun wasn’t even up yet, but she told me Mikhail wanted to keep me on a strict schedule. She wouldn’t share the schedule with me, though. She told me that she would take care of bringing me wherever I needed to go.
First, she brought me down to the dining room, where there was a plate with a lone sliced grapefruit waiting for me. Next to it was a protein shake. I looked at the woman in surprise.
“What is this?” I asked her. “Surely he doesn’t think he can tell me what to eat.”
“Mr. Grinkov expects you to maintain a strict diet,” she said robotically, like she was reading off a cue card. “He wants you to lose at least fifteen pounds by the wedding.”
“Excuse me?” I shouted at her. “That’s not going to happen.”
I was so offended, I couldn’t control my rage. One thing I’d never worried about was my body. I knew I looked good. I was curvy in exactly the right places, and strong. My weight was perfect as it was. I saw through this all as just an attempt to control me, and I raged against it.
“Mr. Grinkov has instructed me to tell you that if you refuse to eat the meals that are made for you, no other food will be provided.”
I stared at this small woman with so much malice. She was just an employee, I was sure, but she spoke to me like she ruled me.
Instead, I went into the kitchen and wrenched open the refrigerator. It was empty. I turned to the cabinets, opening each one. They were also devoid of any food, though there were plenty of cups, plates, and silverware.
“No,” I said, turning on her. “This isn’t happening.”
“You have twenty minutes to eat, then you’re due in the gym to work out with a personal trainer.”
“I’m not doing that,” I said firmly.
“This will go much better for you if you simply agree,” she said coldly.
I found out soon what she meant by that. Every time I refused to do something or talked back to Mikhail, I was dragged back to my room and the door was locked from the outside. This went on for weeks. He was trying to break my spirit, to make me comply to him.
“Ms. Malenkova,” a voice says, pulling me out of my memories.
I look up to see sweet Andrei standing there, with a bottle of water in his hand.
“I brought you some water,” he says with a wink.
As he hands me the bottle, a pill falls into my hand. It’s different than the caffeine pills, so I know he’s gotten me what I’ve asked for.
“I hope you sleep well tonight. If you need me, I’m right outside this door.”
I nod and shut the door, taking the pill as soon as the door is closed. I feel my body start to relax and I collapse on top of the bed. Finally, I have a dreamless sleep. It’s glorious. I sleep for sixteen hours, which apparently worries Viktor. Good. Let him worry.
Another week slips by without much incident. Life in the safehouse becomes incredibly boring and mundane, but at least the nightmares are gone. Viktor finally gives up trying to speak to me after I continue to shut him out. At least he’s a fast learner.
Andrei brings me a sleeping pill every night, though he never brings me more than one. He says he’s not going to let me accidentally overdose. He’s willing to help me, but not enough to lose his job.
On week four, I start to feel sick. I think it’s just the stress that I’m not experiencing in my nightmares. The idea of being dragged back to Mikhail terrifies me more than anything else possibly could, though I’ll never let Viktor know that.
I wake up throwing up for several mornings. I think almost nothing of it until Andrei wishes me a happy Valentine’s Day. Then, I realize that I’ve been here over a month and haven’t gotten my period. Shit. Shit, shit, shit!