Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Making sure the toilet lid is down, I gesture at it and say, “Sit while we wait for the tub to fill.”
Her movements are jittery as she does as she’s told, and bowing her head, I only catch a glimpse of her quivering chin before she hides it from my sight.
“What happened in the other bathroom?” I keep my tone as gentle as I can manage.
“I’m sorry…” Her voice is hoarse, and it breaks. “I didn’t mean to ruin the carpet. If you’ll let me, I’ll do my best to dry it before it’s permanently damaged.”
“I don’t care about the carpet.” My good intentions of giving her personal space fly out the window, and closing the distance between us, I crouch in front of her. “I want to know what happened to you. You seemed to be in some kind of trance.”
She ducks her head even lower, and I barely make out the words as she whispers, “I remembered.”
“What?” Lifting my hand, I gently brush some of her hair back before taking hold of her chin, nudging it up. The broken look in her eyes chills the blood in my veins.
“How… how they hit and kicked me.” Her breathing speeds up slightly, then the emotions drain from her face, and I watch as she slips back into the fucking trance.
Her tone is haunting as she whispers, “Svinya… Tolstukha… No food… Pigs don’t eat.”
Rage burns through me as I realize she’s recounting what she heard. The fuckers didn’t just starve her. They used insults to fucking break her.
“Disgusting.” Her voice takes on an eerie hollowness with every word. “Too big… Laughing. They laughed and said that if they starved me… I’d finally look good enough for them to fuck.” Her breathing speeds up drastically, and a tear slips free, rolling over her pale cheek. “They raped the other women. Their screams... their pain...” Anastasia begins to rock, as if she’s trying to comfort herself. “Crawl and grunt, pig... Blood…. So much blood.”
Iisus Khristos!
“Anastasia,” I murmur while quickly shutting the water off.
She doesn’t respond, and I lift my hand but stop before touching her. After everything she just told me, the thought of putting my hands on her without her permission feels wrong.
“Krasivaya, look at me,” I say, my tone gentle as if I’m talking to Artem when his anxiety is really bad.
It takes a few seconds before her eyes lift to mine, then I ask, “Can I hold you?”
Her eyebrows draw together, and when a sob bursts over her lips, I’m not sure whether she nodded or jerked.
Wanting to give her time to pull away, I slide my arm slowly around her and gently draw her against my chest.
Rage burns through me all over again, but beneath it is something far worse. An ungodly worry, because I have no fucking idea how to help Anastasia get back to the remarkable woman she was before our world destroyed her.
I gently rub my hand over her back and press my cheek to the top of her head.
For once in my life, I feel goddamn powerless. I can’t just give an order or pay to make a problem disappear.
When her breathing finally begins to even out, I reach for my phone and dial Dr. Kravets’ number.
I need someone to tell me how the fuck I’m supposed to fix her after my men broke her this badly, and the doctor is the only person I can think of.
“Mr. Volkov. Is everything okay?” he answers on the second ring.
“No. Anastasia needs help dealing with the trauma.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
I end the call and pull back so I can see her face. Noticing the broken look is gone from her eyes and that she just seems exhausted, I ask, “Do you still want to bathe, or should we get you to bed?”
She glances at the tub, then says, “Bathe.”
I hate leaving her, and standing up, I hesitate. “Will you be okay on your own?” Before she can reply, I add, “I can help, or if you’ll feel more comfortable with a woman, I’ll get Miss Zoya.”
Anastasia shakes her head. “I can manage.”
I glance over the shirt she’s wearing and how it only reaches to her mid-thighs. Not wanting the doctor to see her like this, I say, “Just give me a minute to get you something else to wear.”
Hurrying out of the bathroom, I go to my parents’ bedroom and open Mom’s side of the closet. I check through her dresses until I find one that’s loose-fitting.
When I pass Miss Zoya in the hallway, I say, “Anastasia will stay in my bedroom.”
“Can I bring her chamomile tea? It will help calm her.”
I nod at my housekeeper and rush back to my bathroom where Anastasia is still sitting on the closed toilet lid.
“I grabbed you something from my mother’s closet. Once you’re better, we’ll get you clothes.”