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Luca and Viktor both step forward, greeting him and then saying something in a low tone that I don’t quite catch. Liam murmurs something in response and then steps past them, greeting me first, as he should, since he’s a guest in Viktor’s home. I’m impressed with how well he keeps up with the conventions, but the Irish are as traditional as any other mob family, with their own rules and rituals.
“Caterina.” He squeezes my hand, his expression kind. “I heard what happened. I’m so sorry. I’m glad that the men responsible were given justice.”
“Thank you,” I say quietly, avoiding his eyes. I can’t say out loud, the way I want to, that the man who was really responsible is standing right there, or that I’m so sick of being reminded of the fact that my body is now littered with reminders of a trauma that I can’t ever escape.
He lets go of my hand, moving to greet Sofia next. “How is the baby?” he asks. Sofia barely has a moment to tell him that she and the baby are both doing well before he suddenly glances at Ana, a look of surprise crossing his face.
“Ah, but I’ve never met this lovely lass before.” He smiles a sudden, broad grin that shows his perfect teeth and seems to light his face up, making him look even more jovial than usual. “Your name?”
Ana doesn’t say anything for a full beat. Her blue eyes are locked onto his face, her mouth opening slightly as if she’s gone completely speechless. Sofia’s mouth is twitching, and after another moment passes, she hisses under her breath, “Ana!”
“Oh!” Ana blinks. “Anastasia Ivanova. I’m sorry. I’m not quite myself these days.”
“Ms. Ivanova.” Liam reaches for her hand, raising it to his lips. “I’ve only just met you, but I can tell that whether you are yourself today or not, whoever you are is one of the most lovely lasses I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.”
Sofia and I both stare at him in unison, looking at the two of them. The entire room has gone still, and Liam is still holding her hand, longer than would be considered strictly appropriate for a greeting.
He seems to realize it, too, because he steps back quickly, letting go of her hand and letting it fall back into her lap. Ana has gone even paler than usual, and Liam clears his throat, looking at Luca and Viktor. “Well then,” he says, in his lightly accented voice. “Shall we retire for our meeting, lads?”
Viktor raises an eyebrow at the casual address, but just nods. The three men walk away towards the study, and Sofia and I turn towards Ana instantly, both of us trying hard not to laugh.
“What on earth wasthat?” Sofia blurts out, looking at her friend. “I’ve never seen you look at a man that way in your life!”
“What do you mean?” Ana asks defensively, her hands knotting together in her lap. “He’s handsome, that’s all. It startled me.”
“I’veseenyou look at handsome men before,” Sofia says insistently. “Alotof them, if you remember. But I’ve never seen you give one actual fuckingdoe eyesbefore.”
“I was not,” Ana says, shaking her head. “He was very good-looking and very polite.” She swallows hard, looking away. “I wouldn’t let myself have an interest in him anyway. Someone like him couldn’t possibly be attracted to me.” She clears her throat, blinking rapidly. “Not anymore.”
Sofia opens her mouth to say something, but Ana is already wheeling away, her hands clenching the sides of her wheelchair so hard that her knuckles are white.
“We’ve got to find a way to help her,” Sofia says quietly. “She can’t keep going on like this. It’s going to kill her.”
My chest tightens at that, but I can’t think of anything to say. I feel as if it’s my responsibility, in a way, to help her. It was my husband who did this to her, after all.
But I can’t even help myself these days.
I don’t know what I could possibly do for Ana.
CATERINA
The next few days almost run together, until the only way that I really can tell them apart is by mealtimes, which are as tense and awkward as one might expect. The only levity is seeing Liam watching Ana across the table, his gaze bright and interested, but it’s always marred by the way Ana quickly looks away, clearly unable to believe that a man like Liam could take an interest in her.
I don’t know if Sofia has tried to talk to her, but I can’t. Each night with Viktor has been a new kind of punishment, him taking out his anger on my body, refusing to fuck me and taking his pleasure in other ways, doing his best to make me beg, and me refusing to give in. It’s sapping every bit of energy that I have until I want to scream at him all of the things that go through my head every day, all of the angry, horrible things that I want to say to him.
But I don’t. I keep my mouth shut, except for when he drags the sounds of pleasure from me that I don’t want to make, or the times I call out the blows as he spanks me, twisting my body up into a tangle of resentment and desire and pain and pleasure that makes me feel more and more confused every day.
What’s worse is seeing Luca and Sofia together. They’re so obviously in love that it hurts, and every time I see them together, it makes me feel more miserable than ever about the turn my own marriage has taken.
Like, for instance, when I come downstairs a few days after we arrived at the safe house and catch a glimpse of them standing by the large window in the living room, oblivious to anyone else who might walk by. Sofia is standing there with her hand on her small but visible bump, and Luca reaches out, his hand covering hers as he leans down to kiss her. I freeze in place, knowing that this is something too intimate for me to be watching, but unable to look away anyway. The way he kisses her is the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen, a light brush of lips, his hand caressing her jaw as his mouth moves gently over hers. It’s clear from the way they’re looking at each other that everything else has disappeared, that for them, they’re the only two people in the entire world at that moment.
And then he bends down, pressing his lips against Sofia’s stomach as her hand goes to his hair, and I can’t watch anymore.
I turn on my heel, fleeing towards the back door and the gardens, my eyes burning. I’m not really supposed to leave the house—or at least, Viktor hasn’t given me explicit permission to, which means there’s a decent chance that he’ll be angry at me for doing it.
But I don’t care. I need to be out of this house, to breathe fresh air, and I burst out of the back door past the security, into the gorgeous gardens behind the main house. The path is smooth stone, and I run down it into the thick of the beautifully landscaped flowers and shrubs, feeling tears start to run down my face.
I’d thought, at the very least, that Viktor and I could have a cordial marriage. One where I had the child he demanded—preferably through scientific means—raised his two daughters who desperately needed a mother. I hadn’t wanted to marry him, but I’d been prepared to make the best of it.
