CHAPTER 6

Araceli

“Give me my phone.” His voice startled me.

I turned slowly, tears streaking my cheeks, my chest pounding so loud I could feel it in my ears. I wasn’t thinking straight anymore. I hurled his phone at him. 

“Why is she calling you?!” I yelled, my voice trembling with rage.

He caught it, sending me a deathly glare that made me shiver, yet I held my ground. He took a step towards me, and I stepped back due to the fear rising within me, but my anger overcame it.

“You go ahead and cheat on me with my sister, and then you lie to me. And now she’s calling you!” I yelled at him.

“Don’t you ever raise your voice at me,” he growled.

“I will, and you will explain why you cheated on me.” The words tumbled out too fast, surprising even me. I had never been this angry; I had never spoken to anyone like this before.

He let out a bitter laugh, more a growl than amusement. “You forget very fast. Did you read the contract you signed? In it, I can be with whoever I want, and you are to stay quiet, like a good girl.” His voice rumbled with warning.

“Y-you mean you’ll cheat on me through our marriage?” I stammered, tears streaming down my cheeks.

“I’m not cheating on you. We have nothing together. I’m not with you. We are just two fucking  people who agreed to this stupid marriage,” he snarled. “I fucking paid you for it. So shut up!”

“You lied to me!” I yelled. “You’re a liar, a disgusting cheater, and a disrespectful son to your—”

He cut me off, slamming me against the wall and gripping my throat. I choked, tears spilling down my face, my chest burning and aching.

“Don’t you ever raise your voice at me,” he sneered. “Don’t fucking disrespect me. Don’t ever speak of my family.”

With every word, his grip tightened. I tapped his arm with the last bit of strength I had. He noticed and slammed my hand down with his other arm, squeezing harder. Then, suddenly, he threw me onto the bed effortlessly.

I gasped for air, taking deep, shaky breaths. Slowly opening my eyes, I saw him standing over me, his glare cold and unyielding. He looked like a monster, ready to devour me.

“On. Your. Knees.” He growled.

Fear ran through me. I shivered and sank to my knees to the floor, facing him, tears streaming down my cheeks.

“Now. Apologize.” His voice rumbled.

“I-I’m sorry,” I stuttered, my body trembling, fear making my limbs shake.

“Good girl. Repeat after me.” His tone was low, dangerous, yet oddly calm. I looked up at him, meeting his deathly glare.

“Lower your fucking head,” he growled. I bent my head, shaking as though icy water poured over me.

“Say it. ‘I’ll never question you, nor raise my voice. I will always respect your wishes.’” His words were slow and commanding, his eyes piercing into me.

“I-I will ne-never question n-nor raise my voice at y-you,” I said, trembling.

“Good girl.” He stepped back. “Imenno iz-za togo, kak seksual’no ty vyglyadish’, ya ne stal tebya nakazyvat.”

It’s exactly because you look so seductive that I didn’t punish you.

He walked out and slammed the door behind him. I heard the lock click. Trapped, I collapsed to the floor, sobbing loudly, tears streaming freely, clutching my waist as if holding myself together.

My stepmother had read the contract and deliberately put me in this position. She left me with a monster. I know he’s “doing me a favor” by marrying me, but that doesn’t give him the right to cheat on me in my face.

Sunlight burned my eyes awake. I slept on the floor last night. Slowly, I pushed myself up and headed toward the bathroom. I’m used to waking early, doing my chores, no matter how I feel.

I sank into the bathtub, tears streaming again. How would I survive here? I wanted to go home. I would rather endure my stepmother’s insults and punishments than his. His actions cut deeper, leaving a strange, unfamiliar ache in my chest, and I hated it.

After showering, I chose a blue sundress from the closet. I loved it, but it felt too delicate for someone like me. I tied my hair into a ponytail and pushed open the door. It moved freely, as if he had been back in the room last night.

I hurried down the stairs. No one was there, not a single staff member or armed guard I’d seen yesterday.

I halted my steps when I heard a lady singing in a weird way, like she was in pain. The kind of sound I hear from Naiara’s room whenever her boyfriend comes over. I stepped toward the door where the sound came from and froze. Matvei’s head was pressed against another woman’s chest.

Rage burned through my body. I clenched my fists and turned away, my feet moving on their own as I searched desperately for a way out. I didn’t want to be here anymore. I couldn’t carry this pain inside me. But when I peeked outside and saw armed men posted everywhere, my heart sank. Escape was impossible here unless he chose to throw me out himself.

I slipped through a back door that had been left unguarded and found myself in a garden. A young man was tending to the flowers there. He looked kind, gentle even, and without thinking, I walked toward him. I didn’t know why, but I needed someone—anyone to talk to. Maybe it would calm the fire raging inside me.

“Hi,” I said softly.

He turned, eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Uh… I work here,” I lied quickly. “One of the chefs. I started yesterday.”

“Hm.” His brown eyes slowly scanned me from head to toe. “You don’t look like a chef to me. I’m Lucas.”

“I’m Ara—Annabel,” I corrected myself quickly, my heart skipping in fear. If I said my real name, he might figure out exactly who I was.

“Oh… Annabel,” he said, eyeing me suspiciously. “Can you help me out here… if you want to?” He handed me one of his tools.

“Yes,” I said too quickly, grabbing the equipment. “I’d love to.”

I stepped closer without looking where I was going and tripped, falling straight into him in the garden. “I’m so—” I stopped, my words caught in my throat as we locked eyes. His brown eyes, sharp nose, and…

A gunshot tore through my thoughts, and I realized blood was splattered across my face. I screamed, the sound ripping from my throat, as a bullet had blown Lucas apart. A strong, familiar arm yanked me back and dragged me inside. I lifted my eyes to meet Matvei’s deathly glare.

“Y-you killed him,” I stammered. “You… you shot him! Why?!” I yelled, my voice cracking.

“How dare you step out without my permission?!” he growled, every inch of him radiating fury.

“You… you’re a murderer. You… you killed someone!” My voice trembled, my body shaking in disbelief that my husband had just shot a man and seemed completely unbothered.

“I-I need to call the police.” I lunged for the telephone on the cupboard, dialing frantically.

My fingers froze as another gunshot rang out. Blood spurted from my fingers.

The phone slipped from my hands, stained with blood, clattering to the floor.