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After a particularly rough night with Viktor, I abandoned my daily chores, grabbed my car keys, and fifteen minutes later, barged into my father’s office—which was forbidden. Women did not belong in business. In fact, it was only the second time I’d been to his office. The first was when he’d summoned me to tell me he’d chosen a husband for me to procreate with.
It was a bitterly cold winter day in Russia. It had been dark and gloomy for weeks, as if the sun had simply given up on everything.
Just like I had.
Kusma ended the call he was on and watched me as I stormed across the expansive office.
I looked like shit, something else that was forbidden, but I didn’t care. I was disgustingly skinny by then and had stopped wearing makeup or styling my hair. I was wearing a pair of jeans that were three sizes too big and a cashmere sweater that had holes at the hem.
“Aleks,” he said with a frown. “What’s going on?”
I’d practiced all morning what I would say to my father. I’d memorized every word, every inflection, even the way I would stand as I spoke. I’d be strong. Confident. Chin up, shoulders back.
And what happened? I dissolved into tears. Before even speaking a single word, I was crying. I was done, my dam broken. There was no restraint left in me.
Kusma stood, both uncomfortable and confused at this unexpected display of emotion. “Speak,” he demanded.
“Please let me get a divorce.”
His eyes bugged out.
I rushed to the front of his desk. “Please, please. I don’t want to be married to Viktor anymore. He’s—this isn’t a healthy marriage.”
“Healthy?” Kusma’s eyes narrowed as he rounded the desk.
Instinctively, I took two steps back.
He stopped in front of me. “You’re right, Aleks. It’s not healthy.”
The sudden threatening tone of his voice made my pulse race.
He continued. “I hear you’ve been too unhealthy to hold a baby.”
I looked down, shame spreading over my cheeks like fire.
“Are you pregnant now?”
“No, sir,” I whispered.
“Look at me, Aleks.”
The blow was swift and hard, the back of my father’s hand connecting with my cheek in an explosion of pain.
“You will remain married to Viktor, and you will produce him a child.”
My chest heaved.
“And you will never, ever speak to me like that again. Do you understand me, Aleks?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Now, get on your knees.”
Tears flooded my eyes. “No,” I whispered.
“Aleks, you must be punished. Those are the rules; you know this. Now, get on your knees.”
Choking back the sobs, I slowly lowered to my knees. I closed my eyes as my father unzipped his pants and pulled out his penis. I almost gagged at the scent of him. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I took his fat, stubby erection in my hand.
