“Are you fucking serious, Dad?” His eyes were unfocused, the madness taking place. This whole dinner was going to turn into a bloodbath, and we didn’t even get to the appetizers. “You’re just gonna sell her to him. Just like that.”
“Kill—”
“No, no, no,” he repeated, “I won’t allow it.”
“It’s not up to you, Son.”
“The hell it’s not. That’s my sister, you sick fuck,” he screamed at our father.
“I wasn’t finished, Cillian.” Nikolai spoke again. I tried turning around, but holding Cillian in one spot, didn’t allow for any additional activities.
“Kieran and Ophelia will be getting married on the same day as Ava and Theo.”
I’m sorry, what? I turned around this time, just in time to see the knife flying toward Nikolai, missing his shoulder by an inch. Ophelia stood, her full focus on him, her hair disheveled around her shoulders. Nikolai chuckled, taking the knife from where it fell, and placed it on the table.
“You missed, dorogoy.”
“What the fuck?” She slammed her hands on top of the table, sending a couple of glasses to the ground. Ava gaped at her as if she was seeing her for the first time. Goddamn, she looked hot when she got angry.
“I told you—”
“You didn’t tell me shit.”
“Ekaterina—”
“Ah,” she groaned. “Stop calling me that. I am not marrying Kieran.” Did my heart just stutter at her refusal. “And Ava isn’t marrying Theo. We aren’t living in the old country anymore, for you to have arranged marriages ready for us.”
“Ophelia.” He spoke with a warning clear in his voice. The vein on his forehead became visible, and I didn’t know if I should hug her for standing up to him and waking up from whatever stupor she was in, or take her upstairs and spank her for the same reason. I’ve seen what this man could do, and he didn’t give a shit if he shared blood with you. “I suggest you lower your voice and sit down.”
The calmness with which he spoke sent shivers over my skin, and I rushed toward her, pulling her away from the table.
“Are you crazy, birdy?”
“Oh, you’ve no idea.” She tore away from my grip, again taking the same spot. “I am mad, so fucking mad. I would love to pull his eyeballs out of their sockets and feed them to the dogs.”
Okay then, it just got worse.
“Dorogoy, we will discuss this at home.”
“Ya khochu obsudit’ eto seychas.” Was that Russian? Since when did she speak Russian?
“Dorogaya, prekrati eto.”
Before I could stop her, a glass went flying over the table, crashing on the wall behind Nikolai and her mother. Ava sat frozen, still gawking at her best friend. I wasn’t sure if she completely lost her mind, or if this was the delayed reaction to everything that was going on around her.
“You think I’ll miss? Ah, Papa, you trained me.” Aaaand, there was another knife in her hand. Just brilliant. “I never miss.”
I would forever remember this night as the beginning of the true fuckery our lives ended up being. A fitting setting if I might say. A couple of glasses broken, some knives thrown, and all of a sudden, Theo Aster strolled in, as if we weren’t in the middle of an almost fight between Ophelia and Nikolai.
“Holy shit. What is going on here?”
“Didn’t you hear, brother?” She looked away from Nikolai to Theo. “You just got engaged.”
Six Years Ago
One…
Two…
Three…
Four…
I counted every whip on my back. My teeth rattled in my head, knocking against each other, as I tried to keep all of my whimpers within my chest. I couldn’t hear anything but the blood rushing in my ears. I couldn’t feel anything but my skin opening.
Raw.
Broken.
You’re a broken little girl.
“Count, grebanaya suka!” my executioner yelled when the whip connected with my back one more time. Motherfucking bitch. “Count!”
“Fifteen,” I yelled out. “I, yedinstvennaya suka zdes' eto ty, Sergei.”
“What did you just say?” He yanked my head back, pulling my hair.
“I said,” I tried to focus on his face, “the only bitch here is you, Sergei.”
My head went flying as he landed a punch to the side of my face. There was a ringing sound in my ears, and it took me a moment to refocus on the dark wall in front of me. My knees were bleeding from the concrete floor I was thrown to, and I knew it was only a matter of time before I lost consciousness.
The human body could only take so much.
“I’m going to—”
“Sergei!”
The new voice echoed around the room, sending shivers all over my skin. I could feel blood trickling over my naked back, the cold air of the room hitting me in unpleasant ways. My stomach churned, but even if I wanted to puke, there would be nothing in there to throw up. An acidic taste filled my mouth, and I wondered if this was the way I would finally go.
Finally leave this sick world I never wanted to be a part of.
This Devil’s playground—a fucking misery I had to wake up to every single day, never knowing what the next thing would be they threw at me. The hushed voices of Sergei and my father barely reached my ears, but I was already too far gone to pay attention to anything they said.
Insubordinate, they said.
Reckless.
Wild.
My father thought sending me to Siberia would fix the problem. That this barren place would finally break me, leaving a clean slate for him to build on. Daddy dearest didn’t know that there was nothing left to build on. In the year since I became a part of this fuckery, I killed, maimed and attacked. After the first fifty of them, the faces became distorted and their screams haunted me.
When I closed my eyes, I could see theirs, pleading with me.
When I sat at the table, instead of my mother’s voice, I always heard the other women. They begged me, and then they were cursing me—cursing the ground I walked on, wishing the worst on me and my family. Poor things didn’t know that I didn’t have a family, not really. So when I started screaming back at them, when I started killing people who shouldn’t be killed, I was sent to the end of the world.
Where winter never ended, and the torture was served for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
“Dorogoy.” My father kneeled behind me, his presence almost soothing. He was the only connection to Croyford Bay. “You’re so strong, aren’t you?”
Was that awe I could hear in his voice? Was he finally proud of me?
I hated the man, but some fucked-up part of me always wanted to please him. Always wanted him to see what I could do. I wanted to make him proud as much as I wanted to defy him. I hated myself for being this way. For being this weak in the presence of a man who wanted nothing more than to break me. His touch on my neck felt both like hellfire and holy water in one.
Before I could answer him, blinding pain went through my body as he dragged his finger through the wound on my back, pushing harder, scratching at the raw skin. I felt the wound open wider with his strokes.
“Papa!” I cried out, my voice echoing in the room, but he didn’t stop.