14

[REBECCA]
Time lost its meaning as I languished in that wretched place, trapped in a perpetual state of uncertainty. The boundaries between day and night blurred, leaving me disoriented and desperate for relief from the relentless agony. My head throbbed incessantly, my body succumbed to weakness.
The restraints on my wrists sent waves of pain coursing through me, each touch of the rope against my tender skin evoking pitiful whimpers. My flesh bore the marks of my futile struggles, raw and oozing blood.
Brayden, Avim, and Leon, in their relentless pursuit of information, took turns subjecting me to their interrogations. Frustration tainted their voices as they probed for answers, growing weary of my repeated denials.
“I didn’t do it,” I insisted, my words tinged with defiance.
How could they not understand? I despised monsters like Raffaele and my own father, Herman. Yet, I kept my loathing hidden, refusing to reveal the truth. My life was already hanging by a thread, and admitting my connection to them would only seal my fate further.
The truth held no solace. As an Italian and their sworn enemy, they would never believe me, no matter how fervently I pleaded and wept. They clung stubbornly to their resolve, refusing to release me from their clutches. “Rebecca, for God’s sake! Lies won’t save you!” Avim bellowed, his restless strides filling the room.
Nor would the truth, I silently conceded through my tears.
Drawing in a labored breath, my parched throat protesting, I winced at the pain. “Please… Brayden, Avim. I’m innocent. Believe me. I know nothing,” I whispered hoarsely, my voice ravaged by hours of sobbing. The throbbing ache in my throat made it nearly impossible to speak.
Avim halted his pacing, his gaze brimming with pity fixated on me. I shifted my focus to Brayden and found a similar sympathy reflected in his eyes.
I could sense a fissure forming in their resolve, a crack in their doubt. They wanted to believe me, their conviction wavering. But I couldn’t fathom how much longer I could withstand this ordeal. All I yearned for was the comfort of my bed, enveloped in the warmth of soft covers, banishing this nightmarish reality.
In that suspended silence, our eyes locked, a sudden intrusion shattered the fragile equilibrium. The door swung open, jolting me out of my stupor. Blinking away the haze clouding my vision, panic surged within me as Artemy strode into the room.
Clad in his customary black three-piece suit, his hands bereft of the ominous black leather gloves, Artemy’s gaze fixed upon me with a vacant expression. He stationed himself at the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. A nod passed between him and Brayden, filling me with confusion. As Brayden rose and advanced toward me, fear clawed at my insides, intensifying with every step he took.
In a matter of seconds, I felt his hands gripping the rope, causing me discomfort and pain with each tug. But then, unexpectedly, my hands were released from their binds.
I couldn’t fathom what was happening or how to react. Did they believe me? Was I being set free, or was this just a brief respite before more torment?
“Get up,” Artemy commanded in a gruff tone. Following his orders, I rose to my feet, cradling my injured hands against my chest.
“Go to your bedroom. You are free,” he uttered in a cold, emotionless voice. I sucked in a sharp breath, stumbling back into the solid form behind me. I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Brayden.
He grasped my shoulders, supporting me until my trembling legs could hold me upright. I was shaking so violently that without Brayden’s aid, I would have collapsed onto the floor.
“Can you walk?” he asked, his voice surprisingly gentle, as if comforting a wounded creature.
I nodded, and he released his hold on me. Taking a faltering step forward, I began to make my way toward Artemy, my legs feeling heavy. Throughout my slow progress towards the door, my gaze remained fixed on him, and he returned my stare without moving or speaking.
Just as I was about to cross the threshold, Artemy’s icy voice pierced the silence and halted me in my tracks.
“Don’t even think of escaping.”
I didn’t dare look at him as I nodded in response. Escape wasn’t even a fleeting thought in my mind. I knew all too well that it was an impossible feat. There was no use in trying.
His men would inevitably apprehend me, and in the end, I would pay dearly for my defiance. The last thing I wanted was to return to that wretched basement and endure Artemy’s wrath once again.
I resolved to live the rest of my life as a docile maid, striving to become as inconspicuous as possible.
Just then, Milandro’s voice broke the silence. “Boss, why are you-”
Artemy raised his hand, silencing him. My shoulders slumped, and a wave of relief washed over me.
Guided by Leon, I followed him up the stairs, ascending to the main level of the house. Not a soul was in sight, and an eerie stillness enveloped the entire place.
Anxiety tinged my voice as I asked, “What time is it?”
“It’s two-thirty in the morning,” Leon replied.
My steps faltered, and a sense of disbelief washed over me. Almost seventeen hours. I had been trapped in that basement for nearly seventeen hours.
As I came to a stop, he confronted me with a question, “Are you coming or not?” I nodded silently, and he beckoned me towards the stairs, guiding me to my room.
“Go take a shower and sleep,” he instructed, his voice carrying a hint of concern.
“Thank you,” I murmured, my gaze lowered as I fought to conceal my tears from him.
Entering the room, he closed the door behind me, enveloping me in a momentary solitude. Fumbling in the darkness, I searched for the light switch, finally illuminating the space.
Exhausted, depleted, famished, and emotionally numb, all I craved was the solace of sleep, an escape from the torment of reality.
Swiftly shedding my garments, I stepped into the shower. The warm water cascaded over me, embracing my chilled body in its comforting embrace. Despite the soothing sensation, my teeth chattered as I cleansed myself, and tears silently streamed down my cheeks-a release of pent-up emotions. Seeking solace, I sank to the floor of the shower, allowing the warm water to wash over my weakened form. I couldn’t discern how long I remained there, but eventually, as my body regained its warmth and my tears dried, I rose and stepped out.
Once clothed in my black pajamas, a glimmer of relief graced my face. I yearned to succumb to slumber, to forget everything. Yet, my relief transformed into a startled gasp as I discovered Artemy seated on my bed. Recoiling in fear, I instinctively curled into myself, dread coursing through my veins.
Witnessing my distress, he hastily rose from the bed, assuring me, “Shhh, don’t be scared. I’m not here to harm you. I won’t hurt you.”
His gentle, soothing tone surprised me, widening my eyes in astonishment.
I must be losing my mind. Perhaps this is all a dream.
Shaking my head, I struggled to form coherent words, stuttering, “You… you… I…”
Overwhelmed, my head grew dizzy as he offered me a tender smile. My legs gave way, threatening to send me crashing to the floor, but he swiftly moved towards me, grasping my arms and pulling me into his embrace. Cradled against his chest, I clung to him tightly, afraid he would release me.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he whispered, carrying me towards the bed and gently laying me down.
Taking a seat on the mattress, I noticed the presence of a first aid kit beside him. Artemy placed it on his lap and retrieved bandages and antiseptic wipes. Our eyes met, and I froze as I observed the glistening of emotion in his gaze.
Leaning forward, he tenderly took my hands and positioned them on his knees. Opening the packet, he delicately tended to my raw wrists with the antiseptic wipes. I winced, and he promptly apologized under his breath.
Did he truly say that?
Bending down, he blew softly on my wrists, soothing the burning sensation as he continued to clean the small wounds. Gradually, the pain subsided, allaying the discomfort with each gentle breath he bestowed.
As I lay there with my eyes closed, I could feel him gently wrapping the bandages around my wrists. The touch of his fingers on the bandage sent shivers down my spine. Slowly, I opened my eyes and found myself staring at him, bewildered by his actions. Why was he doing this? My heart skipped a beat when he lifted my wrists and tenderly kissed each one. I was left speechless, my mouth hanging open in disbelief. Could this really be happening? Artemy, the feared Russian mafia boss, had just apologized to me. It was a moment that took my breath away. I never expected him to utter those words to anyone, let alone to me.
Caught in a state of shock, my heart raced within my chest, and I struggled to catch my breath. His gaze upon me made my body tingle with warmth. It seemed impossible. Artemy couldn’t be sitting in front of me, showing such gentleness and remorse.
“I shouldn’t have treated you that way. I can never apologize enough. But please, know that I am truly sorry,” he murmured, placing my hands back on his knees. His hand moved to my face, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and caressing my cheek. “I believe you,” he added.
I gasped, unable to form any words, and continued to stare at him, my eyes wide with astonishment. This unexpected side of Artemy was foreign to me, defying everything I had come to know about him. He was usually rude, arrogant, and menacing.
But in that moment, his kindness and tenderness unsettled me. Against my own will, my heart fluttered. His sincerity was undeniable. For a man like him to apologize meant something significant, didn’t it?
Suddenly, he pulled away, a small smile gracing his lips. “There’s food here,” he pointed to the tray on my nightstand. “Please eat. You must be feeling weak. I’ll inform Nona that you won’t be going to work tomorrow. You need rest.”
I nodded, still locked in a gaze with him, searching for any trace of deceit or trickery. Yet, all I found were genuine emotions. He truly felt guilty.
Confused by the sudden shift in our dynamic, I remained speechless. Artemy let out a sigh when I failed to respond. Stepping away, he stood over me, his eyes fixed on mine.
“Goodnight,” he said, his voice filled with a mixture of sadness and dejection.
A wave of emotions washed over me as my heart tightened and my eyebrows knitted together in a bewildered expression. It was a perplexing moment. Why was I experiencing a sense of sadness on his behalf? After all, he was the one who had caused me unnecessary pain, and he deserved to bear the weight of guilt and sorrow. Yet, there I was, feeling a strange pang of sympathy for him.
Lost in my thoughts, I attempted to unravel the enigma of my own conflicting emotions. Meanwhile, he cast one final glance in my direction and pivoted away. Without uttering a single word, Artemy silently exited my bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Left alone on my bed, I found myself at a loss for words, grappling with a muddle of emotions and uncertainties. The Artemy I once knew seemed to have undergone a profound transformation, leaving me utterly perplexed and questioning the nature of our relationship.