Eleven

ELENA'S POV:

Knock, knock!!

“Open up, baby. it's me.” Pause 

“It's your mother, open up— he's gone already.”

Relief flooded through me, I pushed off from the floor where I had been sitting and crying my heart and eyes out. The moment I opened the door, more tears burst out of me before I could stop myself. I sobbed and shuddered, mom pulled me into a hug, patting me gently on the back while I buried my face in her neck, sniffing and shuddering and letting out muffled sobs.

“It's going to be alright baby. It's going to be alright.”

But we both knew this was going to be everything else, except alright. This entire marriage was not, would not work.

Another sob tore through me, shaking me violently. Grace had been right! What did I expect from getting married to a Mafia boss, a killer? He could have done whatever he wanted without me being able to stop him last night.

“I hate him.” I croaked. “I hate him mom, I can't stand him at all.” My voice was fierce and broken.

“No one likes him Elena.” She whispered back. “But we have to endure him, we can't do anything about it right now, Elena.”

My sob grew even louder. “He could have raped me last night, he even killed a man last night. I saw him. I saw him all covered in blood, mother.” Another sob.

“He was all covered in blood on our wedding night, mother.” I sobbed shaking violently. “He's a monster.”

“Oh, God! Elena.” Mom pulled back, holding me at arm's length, her face was barely visible to me over my eyes clouded and blurred with several tears spilling out without restraint.

“You can't say that about your husband.”

I shook my head. “That monster is not my husband.”

“Shh!” She clasped a hand over my mouth, her eyes darting suspiciously back at the hallway, she pushed me into the room and stepped in herself, closing the door firmly behind her.

“I know you don't like him, baby. But you can't say that. You are both legally married..”

I cut her off before she could even continue. “I don't want any of this marriage, I want a divorce.”

“What!” Her eyes snapped wide, too wide apart. “That's not how these things work, Elena.”

I know!

“If you get a divorce, your father would be mad at you— that's if you even get to live to tell the story. There will be war and you're the only one stopping that right now.”

I scoffed. “What do I care? They could go to all the wars they want. I don't fucking care. I need out, Mother!”

She handed me a tissue. “You have to hang in there baby.”

“How come I'm peace keeper, but I don't have any fucking peace to keep to myself.” I asked, tilting my head back.

Mother led me to the bed and drew an armchair for herself. Her hands ran over my green dress, smoothing it out. Green was supposed to bring good luck. But my interpretation of that at this point varied from everyone else's.

I wiped my eyes clean and sniffed, while taking in Mother's appearance. Her lips were pressed together, while two blotches worked their way up her cheeks. She didn't approve of this marriage and trying to convince me to stay through it was definitely something, but she had to. Like I had to.

I took her hands in my own. We were both choiceless, helpless women trapped in this stupid world. I hated this world!

Ignoring my own anger and frustration, I sniffed back my tears and muttered. “Thank you mother.” I squeezed her hands. “Thank you for everything.”

She forced a smile out of the blue. “You're welcome baby.”

After a slight pause, she added. “There's something I have to tell you.”

Her face said so many things at the same time. But most importantly it said she was unhappy about whatever she was about to say and that made my stomach curled with dread.

“I want to make sure you know what's expected of you in this marriage.” She began, I swallowed my throat suddenly going dry. “I couldn't do this before the marriage, so I'll have to do it now.”

I swallowed the uneasiness in my chest and asked bitterly. “And what's expected of me mother?”

She sighed, my stomach churned revolting whatever information she was about to feed me with.

“Your husband is young and good-looking and powerful.”

“You mean he's a killer.” I said cutting her off, letting her know the only image of Dimitri I saw whenever he stepped into a room or into anywhere. The man who came home covered in an innocent man's blood.

Mother gripped my hand tightly, her breath growing heavy. “He's your husband.” She whispered fiercely.”

“He could do anything or be anything to other people but to you, he remains your husband.”

“But moth..”

She brushed my shoulders, cutting me off with practised ease. “Your husband expects to claim his right over you. Don't try to fight his position that will only make things worse. If he wants sex, just lie on your back and give him what he wants..”

“Mother!” My eyes snapped wide open, pain and hurt flashing in them. My mouth hung open.

Mother would never have said this. She would never! This was father's doings. It had to be him!

She sighed. “I know I am not doing a good job, consoling you. I'm sorry baby, but this is for the best. It's the only way things are going to work out for us.”

“It's unbelievable, mother.”

She wiped a tear stain from her face and sniffed. I blinked a few times myself, to stop my eyes from tearing up too.

“I know this marriage isn't about love or trust or choice. But you should know already that this is about duty and honor, about doing what is expected. This is a bond to ensure peace and you have to do what you must to keep it.”

My vision was blurring quickly. So quickly and my pulse was kicking up too. I blinked.

Mother handed me another tissue paper.

She gripped my arms and pulled me towards her body to whisper in to my ear. “Make him be good to you, Elena. Make him love you, if you can. That is the only way for you to get through this marriage alive.”

My breath hitched in my throat.

I stared at her incredulously, eyes wide open. I opened my mouth to say something but no words came out. It took several more seconds before I could finally voice out what I had to say. “But how can I do that?”

“You have to use everything you have. This is war Elena. Use your emotions, use your body. Use everything you've got.”

I shook my head. This was suicidal.

I wasn't sure anyone could make Dimitri do anything he didn't want to do. Could I even make him want to be good to me?

Could I make him value me? Make him know to love me properly?

No way!

I shook my head again.

No, Dimitri was not capable of such a thing as love— but yet a small voice pricked at my conscience, at least give it a try.

I had survived twenty six years in a world that never once asked what I wanted. Maybe surviving Dimitri Volkov wasn't so different. Maybe it just required a different kind of war.