The Secret

by Stella Gray

  Still, despite the fact that it had been embarrassing in the moment, I’d gotten through it. I knew I’d be able to come home that evening and tell Stefan about it, and we’d both laugh. He still teased me about the day I’d been engaging in conversational Russian in front of the class and had told my partner I was afraid of khuy—thinking I was using the correct word for needles. It turned out modern slang words for “penis” evolved faster than my textbook had.

  I could hear shuffling in the other room, and I knew it wasn’t Gretna since she had the night off.

  “Stefan?”

  As I stepped into the living room, swinging the heavy bag of lo mein, kung pao, and egg rolls, a man in head-to-toe charcoal grey turned away from the art hanging on the walls and toward me. It wasn’t my husband. Instead of Stefan’s handsome, confident, familiar face, all I saw was the stern visage of his father and the grim expression he wore. Konstantin.

  He was like a bad omen brought to life, and my good mood immediately vanished. Dread washed over me, and I suddenly had the urge to run out back out the door and hide out in a nearby coffee shop until I knew Stefan was back.

  But I refused to let this man chase me away. Even if I feared him.

  “Mr. Zoric. We weren’t expecting you. Are you enjoying the art?” I asked pleasantly.

  All of the paintings in the condo were the work of Stefan’s mother Danica—Konstantin’s wife—and I wondered if seeing her art here had affected the man at all, had reminded him of his dearly departed. Though Konstantin tended to either ignore me or size me up like a piece of meat, perhaps we’d finally talk like two humans. It wouldn’t change the fact that I knew he was a bad man, one who did despicable things, but I could at least play nice until Stefan got home.

  “My wife painted what was inside her head,” Konstantin said, unsmiling. “She was a troubled woman. I prefer art that is nice to look at.”

  Inside, I bristled. Stefan loved these paintings. They’d grown on me as well. They had a modern edge, with thick paint, dark colors, and stormy skies, but they were also gorgeous. The longer you looked at them, the more you saw the hints of beauty hiding in the shadows. Danica had painted patches of wildflowers. Birds. Fingers of sunlight breaking through a forest canopy.

  “They do say beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” I said, trying to keep things neutral. “I guess sometimes you just have to look a little harder.”

  “What would you know about having to look for beauty?” he sneered. “You’ve always had it right outside your window, growing up in a life of luxury and ease. You didn’t have to immigrate to this country from a land of hardship, unlike some of us.”

  His words stung. “I may have been privileged—”

  But he didn’t let me finish. Konstantin was on a roll. “Oh no, little girl. You don’t get to tell me. I worked my ass off my entire life to secure visions of beauty. I wasn’t born into it. Nobody handed it to me. I did it the hard way. My way.”

  As he’d ranted and railed at me, I’d subconsciously backed further and further away from him. Now I was almost up against a literal wall, my adrenaline spiking.

  How dare he stand there and try to shame me for the way I’d been raised, when his own good fortune had been built from the exploitation and subjugation of others. And he had the audacity to stand here and talk himself up, as if he’d actually done the hard work himself—instead of manipulating, coercing, and threatening people to get where he was now.

  “Where’s my son?” he barked. “I came here to see him, not stand around wasting time with his wife’s pointless small talk.”

  “I’m not sure exactly where he is at the moment,” I said, my fake smile slipping. “But he should be home soon. I can call him for you—”

  “You think I didn’t try that? He’s not answering!” Konstantin shot back.

  “He’s probably just out somewhere having a meeting,” I said placatingly. “With his phone off. I’m sure we’ll hear from him as soon as he gets out.”

  “No. He has no meetings.” My father-in-law was shaking his head, but he looked at me and in his narrowed gaze I saw loathing and rage. “He’s too distracted lately. Never where he’s supposed to be. Never picking up his phone. And I know it’s because of you.”

  “Excuse me? You think I’m the distraction?”

  His finger pointed in my face. “You’re the reason he can’t focus. You’re the reason he’s not on top of his game anymore. The second he married you, everything started going to shit.”

  Konstantin took a step closer. My heart was pounding, but I’d had enough.

  “I’m sure you’d love to place the blame on me,” I said, dropping my voice to a steely register, “but maybe he’s starting to realize how much better life can be when KZM isn’t dictating every minute of his schedule. Maybe he’s starting to realize he can breathe easier outside of the KZ family. You know, where people actually have ethics. And obey the law.”

  Before I could even blink, Konstantin was on me, his hand around my throat, my body slammed up against the wall. I gasped in shock and fear.

  It was exactly the kind of thing I normally enjoyed my husband doing—and in a flash my mind replayed the memory of Stefan throwing me into the wall the other day, similarly aggressive—but this was completely different.

  With Stefan, I had wanted it, wanted him. His forceful behavior was an act of passion, not a threat, and he knew exactly how far to push me. He never caused me any actual pain. Instead, he walked the fine line between dominance and restraint, the air between us charged with an undeniable sexual chemistry, so intense that I had no hope of resisting it. But this?

  This wasn’t that.

  This was terrifying. This was dangerous. I was clawing at Konstantin’s hand, my breaths becoming labored and difficult as he practically choked me with the tightness of his grip.

  “Talk to me like that again, and I’ll slap you so hard you won’t be able to speak,” he growled at me.

  I felt my blood go cold as he held me against the wall, his fingers thick and hard against my throat. His cologne was overpowering, his body like a wall, and the more I struggled, the harder it was to get a breath. I was panicking. If only I could close my eyes and disappear, completely disconnect from this moment, from my body. Even though he wasn’t a tall man, he was strong, and he’d pinned me to the wall high enough that I was standing on my tiptoes. But I couldn’t find solid ground beneath me, the soles of my shoes scrambling against the glossy hardwood of the living room floor.

  “I’ll ask you one more time,” Konstantin ground out, his face coming closer, his sour breath making me flinch. “Where. Is. Stefan?”

  I wanted to spit in his face. Wanted to knee him in the crotch and run. Wanted to scream. Wanted to escape.

  But I knew I couldn’t do any of that. If I spit at him, he’d hurt me worse. If I managed to knee him in the balls, he’d probably double over for a second but still be able to grab me before I got out of the apartment. If I screamed, he’d tighten his grip on me.

  There was no escape.

  “I don’t know,” I croaked, shaking my head.

  It was the truth, but I could tell that he didn’t believe me.

  “You lying little whore,” he said. “You think you’re different, don’t you? You think you’re better than the women I hire, the women I sell? You’re the same. You might be a kept woman here, but there’s no difference between you and the whores who spread their legs when I tell them to.” With each word, his fingers tightened around my neck. “We could just as easily keep you in a cage as in a penthouse,” he said.

  I couldn’t breathe. My fingers came up again to scrape at his hands. I was desperate for air, desperate for freedom. He laughed at my efforts, my attempts to free myself from his clutches. The world around me began to go dark at the edges—my lungs desperate for oxygen, my vision blurring. All I saw was Konstantin and his cold, leering face.

  But before everything went black, I heard the door to the condo sla
m open.

  Tori

  Chapter 19

  “Get the fuck away from her.”

  It was Stefan. Konstantin released me, and I nearly collapsed to the floor, my weak legs giving out beneath me. Never had I been more grateful or relieved to see my husband’s cruelly beautiful face. I was still gasping for air as Stefan barreled into the room and got right up in his father’s face.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  Konstantin smiled, as if Stefan had merely walked in on him having a conversation with me instead of shoving me against a wall with his hand wrapped around my throat. My vision had cleared and I was able to get back on my feet, but I moved as far away from the Zoric men as I could. Rubbing my throat where it was sore, I was certain I’d see bruises there in the morning.

  “Your wife and I were just having a friendly little chat,” Konstantin lied through his teeth. “So glad you showed up when you did.”

  Had Stefan seen what his father was doing to me? Konstantin had let me go so quickly, the moment he’d heard Stefan’s voice from the foyer, that it was hard to know if Stefan had seen his father’s hands around my throat, the way I’d been struggling to breathe.

  Maybe all he’d noticed from the adjoining room was how intimidatingly close Konstantin was to my body, how he’d been towering over me. But the anger in my husband’s narrowed green eyes made it clear that regardless of what he’d seen from the other room—or thought he’d seen—he still wasn’t buying any of the bullshit his father was selling.

  “How the hell did you get in here?” Stefan demanded.

  Konstantin scoffed, “You think I don’t have keys to all of your apartments? I’m the one who paid for these properties. The only reason you have this life is because of me. You’d both do well to remember that.”

  Fury flashed in Stefan’s gaze. That gaze I had seen soften when he looked at me, that could reflect such kindness and humor. It was flat and cold now—reflecting only rage. And yet something was holding him back. I could tell he wanted to say more, do more, by the way he clenched his jaw, his hands in tight fists at his sides. But he was fighting to stay calm.

  I knew exactly how he must be feeling, but there wasn’t anything either of us could do right now. It was clear we were all trapped in Konstantin’ sick, twisted world. He had all the power.

  Was there any way out?

  “You need to leave,” Stefan told his father.

  “We need to talk,” Konstantin replied.

  “We’ll talk later,” Stefan said, his voice hard with anger. “It’s time for you to go.”

  Konstantin gave a shrug and dusted off his fine wool coat, as if annoyed that in his effort to intimidate and strangle me, he had gotten it mussed. I could still feel his fingers squeezing around my throat and flinched when he turned in my direction.

  “Good evening, Victoria,” he said mockingly. “I’m sure I’ll be pleasuring you with my presence again soon.”

  That was the last straw. As he turned to go, Stefan was right there, right in his face. Konstantin was plenty bigger than me, but he was practically dwarfed by the size of his tall, thickly muscled, broad-shouldered son. I could tell by the way Konstantin was appraising Stefan that he realized it as well. It might have been the first time in his life he’d looked at his son that way—as an actual opponent—as one man assesses another in the heat of a conflict.

  I saw Konstantin’s arrogant expression falter for a split second, though he didn’t budge, still maintaining a façade of control. Stefan moved to block me from his father, and pointed at the door.

  “Get out. And if you ever lay a hand on her again, I’ll fucking kill you.”

  It was the same thing he’d said to his brother Luka. A combination of pride and relief spread through me. Stefan would keep me safe. No matter what, I could trust that. If he would stand up to his own family, heedless of the consequences, then I knew that he would do anything in his power to protect me.

  Konstantin said nothing, but I saw his expression shift, go cold and calculating—and that scared me more than anything he’d just done to me. Because despite the fact that Konstantin had been forced to back down just now, recognizing that Stefan could overwhelm him physically if it came down to it, I knew that Konstantin was the kind of man who wouldn’t forget the slight. Wouldn’t forget the way Stefan had undermined him. I’d bet anything that my father-in-law would find a way to get even later.

  Knowing he was temporarily bested did nothing to secure our future safety from him.

  “Please go,” I murmured, purposefully letting the fear come into my voice.

  Maybe pleading with the man would make him feel like he’d won the argument, like he’d gotten his power back. Make him forget that he wanted to make Stefan pay.

  “I’ll show myself out,” Konstantin said, smirking as if it was his own disrespect toward Stefan that was spurring his exit.

  “You do that,” Stefan said.

  Without another word, Konstantin pushed past both of us and left the condo, slamming the door behind him. I finally let out the breath I was holding.

  Stefan strode to the door to turn the lock and bolt the door. Then he whipped out his phone and dialed a number.

  “I need a locksmith to come to my condo first thing tomorrow and change all the locks on the front door,” he said to the person on the other side of the call. “I don’t care what it costs, just get someone over here with the best fucking lock money can buy and only two sets of keys.”

  He hung up the phone and turned to face me.

  I sagged against the wall, my knees weak, my throat still aching. A river of unshed tears gathered behind my eyes. But I wouldn’t cry. I wouldn’t allow myself to break.

  Stefan came toward me.

  “Did he hurt you, kitty cat?” he asked.

  I didn’t know what to say, too choked up with the lingering fear and trauma, so I didn’t say anything. No doubt Stefan would be able to see the bruises forming on my throat.

  “Come here,” he ordered, but in a gentle voice.

  I did as I was told, walking toward him. Most of me felt numb at this point, the shock kicking in, but my heart was still hammering in my chest.

  “What happened?” Stefan asked, his hand coming up to cup my face, forcing me to look at him. “What did he do?”

  I didn’t know if I could speak.

  Stefan seemed to sense that I was having trouble forming the words, so he led me over to the sofa and pulled me onto his lap, cradling me in his strong arms.

  “I’m not going to let anybody hurt you,” he said. “Tell me what went down.”

  Finally, I managed to say the words. “He was here when I got home. He wanted to know where you were,” I said, my words slow and halting.

  I looked up at Stefan’s face. It was impassive, as it always was, but there was a softness in his green eyes. I realized I truly did feel safe with him. I felt protected.

  “Go on,” he urged.

  “I said I didn’t know, and that you were probably at a meeting. I offered to call you.” I paused, hesitating before I could say what had happened next. Because I knew that I should have kept my mouth shut. That talking back to my father-in-law, provoking him, had been a huge mistake. The consequences wouldn’t just fall on me, either—I’d dragged Stefan into it as well.

  “And then what?” Stefan coaxed.

  “He knows that I know about the models,” I said. “He accused me of distracting you. He said everything went to shit after we got married.” My chest got tight, my lip starting to quiver.

  “That’s not true,” Stefan said. “He knows nothing.”

  I shook my head, forcing back my tears. “He’s right, though. I am a distraction.”

  “Tori, listen to me.” He tilted my chin up, staring into my eyes, and then dropped a soft kiss full on my lips. “The way you distract me…it has nothing to do with my performance at work. What I do at KZM, that’s completely separate from us. My father’s just looking
for a scapegoat. You’re not to blame. You understand?”

  I slowly nodded. “I tried to tell him that. And then I said…” I had to look away, feeling ashamed over how hotheaded I’d been. How I’d so obviously put us both in danger. “I said maybe you were realizing your life was better outside of the family. Where people obey the law. That’s when he…pushed me.”

  I could see Stefan’s jaw tense.

  “What else?” he asked.

  “He put his hand on my throat and he—” I took a deep breath, trying to steady the tremble in my voice. “He choked me. He told me I wasn’t any different from the women at the agency.” My tears were falling now, and there was nothing I could do to stop them. “And that he could keep me in a cage as easily as I was kept in this penthouse.”

  Stefan’s grip on me tightened as sobs wracked my body. The floodgates were open, my emotions hurtling through me as I relived all the fear and agony I’d experienced.

  “You’re safe now,” he murmured, over and over again. “Shh. I’ve got you.”

  When I was done crying, Stefan’s shirt soaked with my tears, he tilted my head back to examine my neck. I nearly flinched as his fingers brushed the soft skin at my throat, but his touch was gentle, so gentle as he caressed the place where his father had brutalized me.

  “My beautiful girl,” he whispered, dipping his head down to place his lips softly against my throat, kissing away the pain that his father had left. “You’ve been through hell and back today. But you got through it. You’re so strong.”

  I closed my eyes as he kissed me again, losing myself to the tender sensations his touch created. In his arms, I was safe.

  “Where else are you hurting?” he asked.

  “My arms,” I whispered. “My shoulders.” I could still feel Konstantin’s rough hands as he’d thrown me back against the wall, as if I’d been burned by a hot iron.

  Stefan helped me tug my sweater over my head, easing down the straps of my camisole and my bra, his mouth moving to drop kisses along my biceps, my shoulders, my collarbone.