by Bonny Capps
Many days I’ll stare outside aimlessly, wishing for nothing more than to feel the ice beneath my feet once more. When I was living my dream, I felt like I was floating in the clouds. I was free, yet determined. I wanted to see how far I could go, and I wanted the world to watch. My name was to go down in history, I was sure of it.
I’m no longer free, but my determination has not dwindled. It’s a burning ember in my soul that I will not allow to die.
My heels click against the wooden floors as I descend the hallway to my destination. It’s the same time and place every day when I go to Vadim. Our conversations always begin on an awkward note, but then they flow casually. I’ve learned a lot about my birth country. From the cuisine to the fashion to the language; Vadim isn’t a bad teacher. He isn’t bad to look at either.
At first, he was intimidating. Now, I sense a sadness about him. It’s only evident on occasion, and I have to look closely to see it. When his black eyes that normally carry a promise of harm soften to a lighter hue, they twinkle as memories flicker behind them. His shoulders will slump slightly in defeat, but then he snaps back to his normal hardened demeanor.
Upon entering the library, my eyes grow wide when he’s already here. Usually, I’m the first to arrive and he’s fashionably late.
He stands in the middle of the library with his hands behind his back. My face flushes when he drags his dark eyes along the curves of my body.
“You’re early today,” I murmur as I close the door behind me.
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Of course I am. It’s a special day.”
“Oh?”
He lets out a gritty laugh as he takes his hands from behind his back. He’s holding a package, and I take a hesitant step towards him.
“What is that?”
“It’s a gift. For your birthday.”
I cock my head as I walk the rest of the way to him. “How did you know it was my birthday?”
His face drops into a frown. It seems that I’ve stolen his moment and, for some reason, I actually feel remorse. He’s the only one that I can trust not to hurt me in this place. His position regarding me changed immensely once I emerged from the cage. He’s as much as a friend as one could have in the bowels of hell.
I smile and reach out for the package. Taking it from him, I turn and sit in on the chair and my eyes find his as I slowly lift the lid. His eyes dance around anxiously as I lower my gaze.
Inside the box lies a pair of black figure skates. They’re beautiful and their new smell drifts from the box to my nose. I purse my lips as I push my tears back.
“They’re top of the market. I hope you like them,” Vadim says quietly.
I place the lid over the box and stare at the wall blankly. “This is very nice, Vadim, but Dimitri would never allow me to skate. I’m not allowed outside.”
“The skates were only part of the gift, krasavaya. I’ve spoken to Dimitri and he has no issues with you utilizing the lake outside as long as you are not alone.”
“What?” I breathe out, my eyes finding his.
His lips curl up mischievously. “We could go tomorrow if you’d like.”
I can’t help the elated smile that covers my face. I didn’t think I’d be skating anytime soon. Perhaps I was right about gaining Dimitri’s trust; allowing him to have a piece of me for bits of freedom. I’ll take whatever he gives me at this point because each tiny fragment that he gives me back will result in my ultimate desire: true freedom with no restraints … an escape.
“Today will be a busy day,” Vadim says as he sits in his usual seat.
I walk to the chair across from him and also sit. “What’s today?”
He rests his elbows on the armrests as he steeples his fingers in front of his lips. “Today, the Pakhan returns.”
I stand next to Dimitri by the stairs as I watch the double doors eagerly for Dyadya Albert’s arrival. Dimitri smirks as he waits, fully knowing that he is the reason for my uncle’s early return. My uncle only learned about Sofia when I requested his return. I can’t risk Dimitri hurting her any further, or disclosing any more of our business practices. He’s a damn fool, and if I can’t reel him in, maybe his father can.
The doors swing open and I stand straighter as Dyadya Albert enters with Alina, Dimitri’s sister, and Dina, my uncle’s wife who is about thirty years his junior.
I nod as I approach them. “Dyadya Albert, I am so glad you’re here.” I pause and nod to the women. “Alina, Dina ….”
Alina smiles at me smugly before brushing her shoulder against mine and sauntering to her brother. “You’ve been stirring the pot, I hear,” she audibly whispers behind my back, and he laughs darkly in response.
Dina looks around the foyer as she slinks out of her coat. “It’s always so stuffy in here,” she whines as she shoves the fur coat into the maid’s chest. “Vodka with a peel of lemon. I’ll be in our room.”
The maid scurries away to ready her drink as Dina ascends the stairs after lazily kissing Dimitri on the cheek. She’s already drunk mid-afternoon, which is never surprising for Dina.
“Where is the girl?” my uncle asks as he looks up at me through droopy eyelids.
I turn and nod to Andrei to go fetch her before my eyes land on Dyadya Albert once more. He’s aging quickly. His shoulders are hunched as his bony hand grips his cane and his face sags down in wrinkles. The man never smiles unless he’s playing a game of Vint.
I turn when I hear the clicking of Sofia’s heels against the wooden steps. She’s still wearing the tight black dress from earlier. It was hard to take my eyes off of her then, but it’s even harder now that her eyes remain downcast and the tops of her breasts ripple from her fluttering heart.
Alina looks towards her curiously as she reaches the last step. Dimitri holds out a hand and she hesitantly gives him hers before he leads her to his father.
Dyadya Albert reaches towards her and grasps her chin. He slowly tilts her head from one side to the other as his eyes examine her features. “What is your name?” he asks, finally releasing her.
Sofia’s eyes slowly travel to his. “Privet menya zovut Sofia Dmitriev,” she whispers, causing me to smile slightly.
She’s absolutely stunning and quick to learn. We can carry on much of our conversations in our native tongue, and the way the words roll from her lush lips make me want to have her to myself. However, the way Dimitri holds her possessively against him is a stark reminder of what will never be.
Dyadya Albert nods toward me, yet his eyes remain on her. “Meet me in my office.”
“Marry her?” Dimitri exclaims as he leaps from the chair across from Dyadya Albert’s desk. “Are you insane? I’m twenty years old. I didn’t plan to marry for another twenty years!”
My uncle slams his fist down on the desk. “Son, you are going to learn quickly that the Pakhan is to make sacrifices. Sofia Dmitriev is an asset. When he discovers that we have her and she is wed, he will have to work with us.”
He pauses as he shakily stands, using his cane for leverage. “Marry the girl. She’s beautiful and timid, and when the time comes, give her babies. Sooner would be better than later.”
Dimitri sucks his teeth at the mention of a family, and I press my knuckles to my pursed lips as their argument continues.
“Children? Papa, I was using her for a good fuck. Not to wed, and not to have children. Not to mention she is a Dmitriev. I am a Vavilov.” His voice drips with disgust at the mention of her surname.
Dyadya leans on his cane for support as he slowly shakes his head in disapproval. “Yes, but do not forget, the Dmitriev family can either be our biggest ally … or our biggest enemy.”
Dimitri scoffs before whipping around and exiting the office, slamming the door behind him.
My uncle’s eyes travel to mine. “Time is dwindling. I do not have much longer on this earth. I need you to promise me that you will help him fulfill this family’s legacy.”
I nod haltingly. “Of co
urse. You have my word.”
He begins walking to the door, but stops momentarily. “Vadim, you are more of a son than I’ve ever had. As tradition has it, Dimitri is to be the next Pakhan.” He pauses and his eyes travel to mine. “I know you would be a good leader.”
I nod once more as he exits the room. If that was supposed to make me feel better, it didn’t. My loyalty to my uncle is undeniable, however, I cannot say the same for my cousin. He is pure poison, and now Sofia is to be forced to marry him. He’ll either kill her, or he’ll kill her soul. That is for certain. The question is, which one will die first?
We each stand on opposite sides of the room. Dimitri is adjusting his bow tie as he stares into the stand-up mirror. I am standing right outside the bathroom door looking over my made-up face. I’m wearing a long, flowing white gown with a fur draped over my shoulders. We are to attend dinner with his family. Nervous is an understatement. When I’m in the room with all of them I feel as though I’m up against a rabid pack of wolves as they gnash their teeth at me.
Dimitri hasn’t spoken a word to me all day. I can’t say it hurts my feelings, but it makes me anxious. He’s angry, I can see the fire dancing in his eyes each time he looks my way. I can’t imagine what I’ve done wrong. Then again, he’s a ticking time bomb waiting to blow.
What I’ve done wrong. The thought makes me scoff inwardly. It also makes me incredibly sad. Of course I’ve done nothing wrong. I was taken. I was imprisoned. I was raped. Yet, here I am, wondering what I’ve done wrong.
“It’s time,” he snaps, yanking me from my thoughts. I nod and stare down at the floor as I follow behind him.
Get through tonight, Sofia. Then tomorrow, it’s you and the ice.
The doors to the dining room open as we approach them, and my ears fill with the sounds of an otherwise normal family dinner. It makes my heart hurt when I remember the family that I lost … the life that I lost. I never had a large family, and if I did, I didn’t know any of them. But I did have Mom and Mirna. They filled that void; the void that will now forever be empty.
Glasses clink together as they toast, and smiles surround the table, except for Vadim and Dimitri’s father, the Pakhan. They pause once we enter the room, and the beautiful brunette that I saw earlier stands to greet us.
“Sofia,” she says, her voice is sultry as she rounds the table and grasps my hands gently in hers. “We didn’t have a chance to meet earlier. My name is Alina. I’m the daughter of the Pakhan and Dimitri’s sister. Please, come sit.”
Her kindness is a shock. She doesn’t look like the friendly type. She’s beautiful and thin with perfectly arched eyebrows and thick pursed lips. Her cognac eyes confirm what she said; she’s basically a female version of Dimitri.
She leads me around the table and I sit beside her as Dimitri takes a seat across from me. The Pakhan sits at the head of the table and the woman, who I’m assuming is his wife, sits beside him across from Alina. The other men that I’ve seen here and there also surround the table, and Vadim sits beside Dimitri. They’re all staring at me like I’m an alien. I suppose I am in this place.
The woman, who I’m assuming is the Pakhan’s wife, gives me a slight, fake smile before she takes a sip of her drink.
“Sofia, tell us a little bit about yourself,” Alina says, nudging me with her elbow.
My wide eyes travel around the table. “I … um….”
“Sofia is a very talented figure skater,” Vadim answers for me. “She used to compete and I’m hoping that she can again someday very soon.”
Dimitri scoffs as he rolls his eyes. Asshole. Nothing that he does surprises me.
“Really?” Alina says, exasperated. “How long have you been figure skating?”
I stare down at my empty plate. “Since I was a toddler. My–my mother bought my first pair of skates … I never stopped skating after that.”
“Your mother, what was her name?” The Pakhan says, and my eyes snap to his.
“Lidiya Dmitriev.”
He nods. “And your father?”
I frown. I can’t for the life of me wrap my head around why they keep asking about my mother and father. “David Dmitriev. They’re both dead,” I say, realizing my bitter tone.
“Oh?” he remarks. “And how did they die?”
I blink several times before diverting my eyes. “My father had a brain aneurysm when I was very small. My mother was struck by a car and killed.”
My eyes dart up to Dimitri when I hear him laugh subtly. “I’m sorry, is something funny?”
He shakes his head with a priggish smile on his face. “Not at all.”
“Did you attend his funeral?” the Pakhan asks nonchalantly. I feel the blood rise to my face and do everything that I can not to scowl at him.
“No. I didn’t. I was too young.” I respond sharply.
The Pakhan’s lips curl into a tight smile as he surveys me. “Well, we are happy to have you here at our dacha. I hope that you have been made to feel at home, seeing as this is your home now.”
The tears burn my eyes as he makes a mockery of my circumstances, and I startle when Alina wraps an arm around my shoulder. “You and I will have a lot of fun this summer. It may look like a tundra out there right now, but it’s breathtaking once the snow melts.”
I give her a slight nod as I ball my fists in my lap.
Conversation picks back up around the table as I remain silent. Food is served along with more alcohol. I can feel the dim room lighten up with each drink that the family has. Though, there are still dark clouds hanging over my head … and Dimitri’s.
Vadim remains stoic as he takes small sips of his vodka. His back is straight as his eyes survey the different faces at the table. When his gaze lands on mine, he tilts his head slightly and his hardened demeanor seems to thaw, at least a little. We stare at each other for several seconds before the Pakhan taps his fork against his glass.
He doesn’t say a word. Instead, he nods toward Dimitri who looks none too pleased. Dimitri stands and walks around the table to where I’m sitting. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieves a tiny jewelry box and sets it in front of me.
“Open it,” he whispers, and I take a deep, shaky breath to calm myself.
When I open the box, my breath catches in my throat. The diamond stares back at me in all of its glory as my heart palpitates. I try and wrap my head around this entire situation, but how can I? There’s been so much that’s happened in so little time and this is the last straw. He’s not only insane, but an absolute lunatic if he thinks that I would ever marry him.
He reaches down and takes the ring from the box before holding it out. He waits for me to hold out my hand so that he can slip it onto my finger, but I keep my hands balled in my lap as I stare at the princess cut diamond ring like it’s the plague. He quickly becomes frustrated, grabbing my wrist and yanking my hand towards him before shoving the ring onto my finger.
He grips the back of the chair and his breaths nip at my neck as he whispers, “Congratulations, little mouse. You’ve graduated from being my whore to my future wife.” He pauses as he squeezes my wrist painfully, and I close my eyes to keep the tears from seeping out. “This isn’t a Russian custom. We do not do engagements, but me being the gallant man that I am, I decided to try and make this special for you … since you aren’t a true Russian.”
He releases my wrist abruptly and my eyes snap open, allowing a single tear to roll over my cheek. I hurriedly wipe it away and my eyes stay on my ring finger as my hand remains unmoving atop the table.
Everyone begins carrying on once more like nothing even happened while my world crashes down around me. Except for one person. His black eyes peer into mine from across the table, and they say everything that I’ve needed since my mother died.
I’m so, so sorry.
I flinch when Dimitri slams the door, once he and I enter the room. I’m yanked around by my arm to face him, and his eyes resemble hell. His cognac gaze has turned amber, and the tiny f
lecks of light are comparable to dancing flames as he shoots daggers at me.
“You embarrassed me, Sofia,” he growls as his fingers tighten around my arm.
I can barely breathe as I stare up at him with pleading eyes. “I–I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t say a word, and I watch as his jaw tenses. I can almost see his thoughts of wanting to harm me, and it makes my heart skip a beat.
“You are an ungrateful bitch!” he hollers, and before I can speak a word, his fist connects with my face. I cry out as he releases me and I crumble to the floor.
He fists my hair and yanks me up before the back of his hand lands across my unharmed cheek, and I feel like my jaw is going to pop beneath the impact as my mouth fills with the coppery taste of blood.
“You are nothing to me!” he shouts, releasing my hair and slamming the toe of his dress shoe into my stomach.
All of the air leaves me as I cradle my throbbing abdomen. I try and defend my body as he continues raining down the blows, but my armor is quickly crumbling as his rage engulfs me, leaving trails of bruises across my once unmarred flesh.
He once again tangles his fingers in my hair before ripping my body from the floor and throwing me across the room like my body weighs no more than a feather. Once my body connects with the hard floor, I convince myself that my bones and organs are loosely banging around beneath my skin. I feel like a sack of bricks as I attempt to lift myself on all fours. Dimitri stands several feet away as he stares down at me mockingly.
“Come here,” he says soothingly.
His sudden change in tone is not lost on me as I attempt to lift myself up several times. Once I succeed, I inch one hand before the other as I begin crawling to him. Hand, knee, hand, knee … the journey of crawling several feet is the equivalent of swimming across the ocean, or so it seems. My body is heavy, and each mark that he left on me screams in resistance as I will my arms and legs to work. I don’t want him to hurt me anymore.