Chapter Nine: Sign It

Later that day, I was taken to his house and this time I was shown to a bigger bedroom. The guard told me it was mine. I nodded, and as he turned to leave, I called him back. I could not have said why. Maybe it was because I was about to be shut inside a house full of strangers, and I wanted at least to know someone.

"What is your name, please?"

He looked at me for a second as if the question made no sense. "Viktor."

"Thank you, Viktor."

He gave me a short, stiff nod and walked away. His footsteps faded down the hallway, and the quiet that came after was so heavy that I felt it press on my ears.

I stepped inside and let my eyes travel around the room. It was wide and clean, with a curved sitting area tucked into one corner and a large TV mounted on the wall. A floor-to-ceiling window ran along one side, and when I walked up to it, it looked out on the garage.

I pressed my fingertips to the cold glass and stood there for a moment, my eyes moving from one car to another. Finally, I went to the walk-in closet, and paused in the doorway.

There were dark suits, black shirts, a row of ties arranged from lightest to darkest. They were his.

My heart began to pound, and heat crept up my neck as I ran my hand along one sleeve. Did this mean we would share the same room?

I shook my head.

That was not possible. I could not allow it. But a small, tired voice in the back of my mind asked me what exactly I planned to do about it. I had no home to run back to, and no one waiting for me.

I went back and sat on the bed with my legs pulled up to my chest, my arms wrapped around my knees. My fingers found the pendant at my neck, and I held it without meaning to, rubbing my thumb across it.

I thought about what Jafer had said, that he would make me powerful enough to fight my family. The idea of making them pay felt ugly and satisfying, and I did not like how well the two fit together.

But when I thought of Katya, my hands closed into fists, and I did not feel guilty at all. I would do it ten times over if it meant my parents finally saw what they had done to me. It hurt that much.

I unfolded the marriage certificate in my hand and my eyes settled on his signature.

I tried to weigh the good and the bad of being married to him. He was a dangerous man, and I knew it. But there was something wounded in the way he acted, something raw under all that ice. It was like watching someone who wanted to hurt others back for the way they had been hurt.

I did not sign it yet.

I dropped the paper beside me and lay down on my side, and somewhere in the middle of my thoughts, my eyes closed and I slept.

The sound of quiet footsteps woke me. I have always been a light sleeper, and my whole body went still before I opened my eyes. I turned my head slowly. His back was to me. He was walking toward the vanity mirror, and I watched him undo his Rolex and set it down, then reach for the buttons of his shirt.

My stomach dropped, and my face burned. I turned away at once to give him privacy.

"There is no need. You can watch."

I did not move. I stared ahead and kept my back to him.

"Turn." he said.

I sighed through my nose. I was tired of being ordered around. "You are going to threaten me next, right?"

I still did not turn. I heard his steps come closer to the bed.

"No. But you will see this often. You may as well get used to it." there was smugness in his voice.

The mattress dipped as he climbed on. He was nowhere near me because the bed was wide enough for three people, but I felt every inch of the space between us and my shoulders pulled tight.

Neither of us spoke. Then the certificate dropped beside my face, and I flinched, and then swallowed. I picked it up and set it on the bedside table.

"I will sign it tomorrow."

"Sign it now."

"I said tomorrow." My pulse was loud in my ears. "It is not like I am going to run away from your house."

I did not know how the words had rolled out of my mouth. They sounded like the girl I used to be before the Penitentiary.

He did not answer. The silence stretched until I could hear my own heartbeat and the faint hum of the vents. Then came the soft click of a drawer sliding open and shut, followed by a second sound that I knew far too well. A metallic click.

I sat up fast and saw a gun in his hand. His eyes were cold, but there was tightness in his jaw as though he were holding something back with every bit of his strength.

"Come here."

My heart slammed against my ribs. "I will sign it now."

"I said come here, Nadya."

His voice was nothing like the one he had used with me before. It was lower and emptier, and it frightened me more than shouting would have.

I did not want to push him further, so I moved closer to him. The moment I was close enough, his hand closed around my neck and I immediately clawed his hands.

"Open your mouth."

"Please, I am sorry..." My voice cracked in half.

"If I have to repeat myself again, Nadya, you will be introducing yourself to your grandfather in hell."

I opened my mouth immediately. He slid the barrel inside, and the metal was cold and bitter against my tongue. Then he cocked it, and the sound was so loud in the quiet room that I flinched.

He held my gaze, steadily.

I was shaking all over, and tears ran down my face and dripped off my jaw. I wanted to tell him I was sorry for upsetting him, but the gun was in my mouth, and the only thought in my head was that I was standing between life and death.

He leaned in close to my ear and spoke so softly that I had to hold my breath to hear him.

"Defy me one more time, and I will show you exactly who commands this house.” he threatened. “Marrying me is the means to your revenge, so stop being a pathetic, sorry fool. Family is overrated, but that does not give you the fucking right to talk back at me. Tonight is the last chance.”

His words hit harder than his grip. A hot wave of humiliation rushed up my face, and underneath it a sharp, small anger flickered, and I swallowed it down before it could show.

He let go of me and drew the gun out of my mouth.

My heart was still heaving as I wiped my tears away with the back of my hand. My whole body felt hollow as I picked up the certificate from the table, and my hand trembled so badly that the pen skidded across the paper.

I pressed down harder and signed.

Then I turned to look at him. He had already stood up from the bed. He took his gun, picked his phone up off the bedside table, and walked out of the room.

The door closed. I sat in the middle of the bed, teary eyed as I bit my lips to stop the sob from escaping.