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No one here is my ally. No one here will defend me against my husband.
I’m surrounded by Pavel’s men: soldiers and brigadiers; criminals,killers.
The only people in my corner are at my side: Willow, Karina, Viktoria. The three of them are silent, same as me. What’s there for us to say in this room?
Especially when my husband is at the center of it all.
The walls rise around me, more menacing than usual.
Walls not of plaster, but brick.
This is a tower. This is a cell.
I’m a prisoner all over again.
I’m supposed to be happy. I’m supposed to be over the fucking moon about having a baby. But I can’t muster the strength to feel anything except irritation.
Pavel’s men pay him their respects. As ifhe’sthe one having the baby.
How could I forget?
I’m just a tool, a means to gain power.
That’s it. No more and no less. He made it clear the other day exactly how he feels about me. All that affection, devotion, and care was merely a performance.
And a damn good one at that.
He fooled me.
He won.
So, I’ll just sit here and eat my cake. I’ll laugh at Gennadiy’s stupid jokes. I’ll make small talk with the only three women around me.
It’s all I can do anymore.
Laughter explodes from every corner of the room.
Willow elbows me lightly. “Glad to see they’re having a blast.”
“It’ll be over soon,” I say, though I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince her or myself.
And I’m not even sure I’m talking about the baby shower either.
She shrugs. “At least the food is great.”
“Do you want tea,krolik?” Viktoria offers. “It’ll help.”
I smile weakly. “No, thanks, Viktoria.”
“We can sneak you a little beer,” Karina whispers. “Just a tiny shot won’t do any harm.”
I touch my stomach. “No, I told the doctor I wouldn’t make it a habit.”
Karina squeezes my shoulder, a wealth of love and support in that simple gesture. “Very well. Just let us know what you need.”
The double doors fly open, and silence penetrates the room. Every pair of eyes stares at the man stumbling through the doorway. How the hell he managed to get up here is beyond me.
My hand tightens on my stomach as I whisper, “Jonas.”
