A month later, the cast has been removed and Adrian and I are at Dr. Kim’s office to start my rehabilitation so that I can walk again.
I don’t bother asking the doctor if the verdict about the impossibility of a full recovery is still the same. He’s looking at me as if I were a kicked puppy, relaying the words without having to utter them. I’m going to move beyond it, though, because I have another life to worry about now.
Before we left the house this morning, I stood in front of the mirror to get dressed and I was caught in a trance by my stomach. It’s still flat, but I can feel the baby more with each passing day.
The life that’s been making itself marginally unnoticeable is finally peeking out, reminding me of why I’m here in the first place.
To produce an heir.
And while the objectification, the coercion, and the humiliation still hurt, I don’t regret the child. This baby is the one thing that’s making me hold on to life, surviving day to day, knowing that I’m not living for myself alone anymore.
I’m going to be a mother. And if mine was any indication, mothers sacrifice for their children. Mothers protect their children from the monstrosities of the world, with their lives if they have to.
We go the OBG-YN, too, and she tells us that the baby is healthy. Adrian places a hand at the small of my back, leading me out of the building and to the car that’s waiting outside. I don’t miss the possessive gesture whenever we’re in public, like he’s marking his territory for everyone to see.
I try to ignore his presence, his touch, and his wood and leather scent that’s become stronger over the past couple of weeks. But it’s impossible to erase Adrian, no matter how much I try. Not only because he forced me to marry him, but also because of everything he does.
The way he cares for me, how he sits beside me on the sofa and places my feet on his lap to massage them. Since the cast was removed, he’s been taking care of rubbing oil on my leg. I don’t even like to look at the hideous scar right beneath my knee, but he takes over the task with effortless ease.
I hate how he holds my hair and strokes my back whenever I’m hit by morning sickness. Or how he tells the head of his staff, a tenacious woman named Ogla, not to cook food with strong smells.
I hate that he makes me come before he fucks me, how my pleasure is always prioritized before his, and how he’s never made me pleasure him. I hate how he cleans me after he’s done and then throws a nightgown over my head so I won’t get cold.
But most of all, I hate the way he holds me to him, even when I turn away from him, as if having me sleep in his arms is his favorite position. Apparently, it’s mine, too, because my nightmares have slowly disappeared since I moved out of my apartment.
It would have been easier to erase Adrian if he were the heartless monster I paint him to be in my head. Though he is heartless, he’s not when it comes to his offspring. His care and all these gestures are only his way to ease the birth of his heir. Once that happens, he’ll probably demote me to the background.
My feet falter on the sidewalk a short distance away from the car when I see a few homeless people huddled near the corner, begging for money.
My heart aches for them, but at the same time, I envy the freedom they have. They might not wear an enormous diamond ring and live in a palace that’s guarded by a hundred men, but they at least have freedom and the ability to go anywhere.
“Is it someone you know?” Adrian asks from my side, his voice low but firm.
Since our wedding night, he’s been a bit distant, either issuing orders or sounding frigid like right now. We’ve lost the somewhat carefree conversations we used to have back in my apartment. But that probably has more to do with the silent treatment I’ve been using against him.
I shake my head.
“Use your fucking voice, Lia.” He leans in to whisper in a threatening tone. “This isn’t the bedroom, so you don’t need to start a rebellion.”
I stare at him square in the face. He didn’t win that war. I did.
As promised, he fucked me over and over again that night. It was the longest we’ve ever gone, and even though I lost count of how many times I orgasmed, I never let him hear my voice until I collapsed.
It’s been the same every night—or day, really—since he seeks me out at all hours. Adrian tries to make me moan or scream, but I either bite my lip or the pillow or my hand if I have to.
He lost the right to hear my voice that night.
“I thought I was better as a mute.” I push past him and settle in the car, letting the bag fall to my lap.
Adrian joins me soon after, and the sound of his door closing causes a brick to settle at the bottom of my stomach.
“That’s one, Lia,” he murmurs.
My heart thumps, no matter how much I don’t want it to or how much I fight it. My body is attuned to him in ways even I can’t understand. I’m addicted to his rough touch and merciless punishments.
I come undone in no time, and that sense of levitating has never changed. If anything, it’s been heightening over the weeks.
But it’s just a physical connection. A meaningless one.
I’ll get over it someday. I have to.
Scoffing, I focus ahead as Yan kills his cigarette and slides into the passenger seat. Kolya kicks the car into gear and pulls out into the busy street.
“Two.” Adrian takes my hand in his and nibbles down on my pinkie before sucking it into his mouth.
A whole body shiver overtakes me and I try to free myself, but he bites down harder, then speaks against my skin, “I told you not to pull away from me again. Three.”
Giving up the futile fight, I stare out the window at the buzzing city. My appointments with the doctors are the only time I get to leave the cage Adrian has built for me, and it’s my only chance to see people and the life that’s going on around me.
It’s odd how I never focused on it when I used to drive to and from rehearsal, but humans don’t realize what they’re missing until it’s snatched away from them.
If I’d known, I would’ve paid better attention.
Luca hasn’t gotten in touch since that time at the lingerie store. I can’t call him either, because Adrian not only got me a new phone number, but I’m sure he’s also having it tracked.
And since I don’t go out alone, I assume it’s hard for Luca to find an opening to get in touch.
That’s why I need to provide him with that opening, because if there’s anyone who can help get me out from under Adrian’s steel-like hold, it’s Luca.
I spot a tent under which people are serving hot soup to the homeless. The image of the man in front of the hospital comes to mind and an idea strikes me.
It takes me a few minutes to organize my thoughts in a way that won’t send Adrian’s red flags up. If he gets a whiff of what I’m doing, he’ll lock me in a cell until I give birth.
Facing him, I try to ignore that he’s still licking and nibbling on my finger, and how his touch is sending tiny bursts of pleasure down my spine and to my belly. “I was talking to the OB-GYN when you went to get the prescription.”
“You were?”
“Yes. She said I could be developing depression.”
“Is she an OB-GYN or a psychotherapist?”
I lift a shoulder. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”
“You’ve always had depression, Lia. You’re not developing it.”
My eyes widen. “How did you know that?”
“The pills in your apartment.”
Right. I guess it doesn’t matter that I’ve hid them from him. Adrian watches my every move and notices everything, which is one more reason to be careful around him.
“Why have you never asked me about them?” I ask in a quiet tone.
“Would you rather I have?”
“No, but that’s what most people do whenever they learn I have mental health issues.”
“I’m not most people.”
“You…you don’t think I’m broken?”
“So what if you are. It’s what makes you who you are.”
My lips part. It’s like he’s saying he likes me just as I am. Broken and all.
“You don’t have to hide your pills from me, Lia.”
“I’m do…not hide them.”
“Yes, you do. But you’ve not been using them since the pregnancy. Not the insomnia pills or the antidepressants. Your nightmares have noticeably toned down, too. You didn’t have one during the past week and your pills remain untouched. So how is it noticeable to the OB-GYN that you’re developing depression?”
Damn it.
I knew he observed everything, but I didn’t realize he was that attuned to me, even to my nightmares.
“I told her I’m feeling confined,” I blurt.
He pauses, seeming to be genuinely concerned as he lets my hand fall on his lap but doesn’t release it. “You are?”
I scoff. “I’m trapped inside four walls twenty-four-seven with nothing to do. What do you think?”
“You take walks in the garden.”
“You make me do it.”
“To help your circulation.”
“Whatever. It still doesn’t count as entertainment.”
“You can read.”
I scrunch my nose. “No, thanks.”
His lips twitch in a small smile. It’s not the first time he’s suggested I read. He mentioned that it helped getting him through his childhood, but I told him that not all of us are born to be bookworms. Now he smiles whenever the subject is brought up again.
I don’t want to get caught up in one of his rare smiles that appears once in a blue moon, but I do. Whenever he shows this side of himself, the slightly carefree and relaxed side, I stop and stare, letting my mind wander to what our relationship would’ve been like if we were a normal couple. If our first meeting hadn’t been when he killed someone in cold blood, and if he hadn’t forced me to marry him before announcing ever so cruelly that my only worth is his child that’s growing in my womb.
But we’re not a normal couple. We never were and never will be.
“What do you want to do, Lenochka?”
I perk up at his question and the use of my nickname. It means he’s letting some of his guard down, and I don’t take it for granted when Adrian asks me what I want.
So I soften my voice because any stubbornness or high range in it will have the absolute opposite effect on him. “I want to go out.”
“We’re currently out.”
“Not like this. I want to be out in the open.”
“Why?”
“To breathe properly.”
I realize my mistake when his eyes darken. I just implied that I don’t breathe in his company or his house, and while that’s somewhat true, I don’t want him to get angry and close off any negotiation.
“I mean outside air,” I recover quickly. “I want to breathe outside air.”
“Security hazard. No.”
My heart plummets, but I keep my compliant tone as I implore, “I’ll be careful.”
“It doesn’t matter how careful you are. If someone wants to get to me, they’d do it through you since you’re the easiest and weakest spot they can hit. Being my wife has already set you as a target, Lia.”
His words slice me open, cutting me in half. I thought he would never hurt me worse than the day in Sergei’s office, but he just dug the rusty knife in deeper.
So I’m his weakest spot now.
My lips tremble, but I set them in a line, even as what remains of my heart bleeds. “I need to do some activities or I’ll lose it. Your precious baby won’t be able to be born if his mother is fucking nuts.”
“Lower your voice.” His jaw clenches. “And did you hear a word I said about security?”
“I did. Don’t care. I need to get out, Adrian. You already clipped my wings. The least you can do is give me something to look forward to.”
He clutches me by the chin and I swallow as his merciless eyes clash with mine. “Raise your voice again and I’ll put you on my lap and spank that defiance out of you. Is that clear, Lenochka?”
“Give me something,” I murmur, tears welling along my lids. “Please.”
I wish they were fake tears, that I was just feigning this, but real pain bursts through and my heart and pride ache for ever letting him see me this way.
For letting him hurt me again by calling me his weakness.
“You will go out with my guards. Only once a week and to a location I specify.”
My lips part. “Really?”
“Have I lied to you before?”
No. He makes sure all of his promises are executed—whether good or bad.
Actually…
He did when he didn’t tell me about his engagement to perfect Kristina. A lie by omission is still a lie, and I’m still not over that. But if I say that, he’ll just twist it around, and I’m not in the mood to acknowledge his previous engagement—I don’t think I ever will be. I hate the inferiority complex that festers on my soul whenever I think of the pretty blonde on his arm instead of me.
“I’ll let you know which location you’ll go to.”
“I…” I swallow. “I want to do charity work.”
He raises a brow. “What?”
“You know, those organizations that serve homeless people food?”
“I know what charity work means, Lia. And you’re not doing it.”
I place a hand on his chest, my palm expanding on the hard ridges underneath. This is the first time I’ve initiated an affectionate touch first.
A low growl slips from his lips and his muscles ripple beneath my small hand, then he looks at me as if he wants to devour me.
I bask in the sensation of having this much effect on him. It might only be physical, but it’s still empowering all the same.
“I need to have a purpose after my accident, Adrian. And if I’m fighting a noble cause, I won’t feel like my days and nights are empty.”
He raises a brow. “Your nights are empty?”
My cheeks heat, recalling a recent memory of him tying me up to fuck me until I was spent. “You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t. So why don’t you explain it to me?”
I sigh, opting to offer him a small fraction of truth even I don’t want to admit, but I know he’ll like. “After we finish having sex, I know I’ll spend the following day alone, and sometimes, I think about that all night long. That’s what I meant by empty nights.”
He pauses, and I believe he’ll shoot me down, but then he nods. “Fine. But I choose which organization.”
I smile, feeling the triumph of the win to my bones.
This is it. My chance to escape.
For a life as far away from Adrian as possible.
