“I am so sorry for what happened to you,” I whisper, burying my head in his chest.
“I would not be who I am today without my past, Haleigh. We cannot regret everything in our past because, without those experiences, heartbreaks, and our shattering pains, we would not be who we are today. You are strong, little one, and Maxim will come around. He loves you, very much, and though this experience has been horrendous on you, it has also been hard on him.
“He is a man, your man, and he could not protect you. Also, he knows very much that it is his fault. He is trying to deal with his guilt, his part of the kidnapping, and your rape. With time, you will heal and so will he. It will be a hard road, but once you find your way back to each other, it will be a beautiful future for the two of you,” he whispers into the dark room as silence falls between us.
“Sshhh,” a deep voice says from behind me. I feel the strong, familiar arms of my husband wrap around my body.
“Let me hold my wife for one more night.”
Maxim’s cryptic words worry me but sleep takes over. When I wake, the harsh reality of his words slap me in the face.
Maxim is gone.
His clothes are gone.
His office empty.
There is only a note on the kitchen counter.
Golubushka– My Little Dove,
You are correct in the blame for what happened to you. It is my fault. I take full responsibility, and I will take care of it. Gregori and I have teamed up to find the bastards who are in charge and kill them all, as I should have done years ago. I do not know when I will return. We will be traveling to Moscow. I haven’t been back in years, and I had hoped to bring you with me. Going with Gregori was not in my plans, but neither was you being taken for my foolish vows as a poor, hungry child in the streets of Moscow.
Dimitri will be there to watch over you. He will be better able to help you heal; he has been through the same types of things I am sure you experienced. You have unlimited access to my accounts and credit cards, buy whatever you need. Make sure you go to the doctor and take care of our baby.
You owe me nothing. I hope you will keep the life inside of you, but if you decide to rid yourself of the burden of carrying my child, I will not be angry with you.
I want you to know that I fell in love with you. I may have bartered for you, forgiven a debt, and accepted you as payment, but it was because once I saw you, I could not imagine my life without you. Now, I am stuck with that reality anyway. Life is, as you call it in America, a bitch.
I hope that one day you will be able to forgive me. I never imagined this would happen to you. I truly am sorry for everything. I hope you will be happy. Find someone to love you the way I never could.
Be happy. Be free.
All of my love, my life, and my soul.
-Maxim.
I pick up the, no doubt, expensive vase that is sitting on my desk where the note was neatly tucked underneath, and I throw it at the wall as I sink down to the ground.
That bastard—he ran.
I knew he wouldn’t be able to handle what happened to me, but I never imagined he would run from me. I figured he would make me leave, but nothing could have prepared me for the heartbreaking fact that I am now alone. Pregnant and alone. My husband doesn’t want me, but he claims he loves me.
My life is truly fucked.
I crawl back to my bed, and I fall asleep.
Maybe I can just fall asleep and never wake up?
As morbid as that sounds, it is currently what I crave because I now face the reality that I am all alone.
Maxim was more than just my husband these past months. He has been my best friend. My confidant. My lover. Now, he has ripped my heart out and run away from me. How can I cope with raising our child alone? How can I ever be strong enough to be the mother and father our baby needs? I am so weak. I have already proved my weaknesses.
FORTY-TWO DAYS.
That is how long it has been since I have seen my beautiful wife. I imagine her belly is quite swollen with my child these days, and it makes me ache straight to my core. I will never see my child grow inside of her. I will never see her hold my child.
The harsh reality is that I will probably never even see my child. That makes me want to kill someone, and I aim to do just that, when I find out exactly who is in charge.
No, it makes me want to torture.
“Mr. Lasovska, room two is yours,” the older woman informs me. She is haggard, has lived the life of a whore until nobody would pay for her services. Now, she is a receptionist and a madam.
I am searching for whores. How my life has changed. I nod at the old woman and walk into the second room. It is just a closet, really, only separated by sheets hanging from the ceiling. It disgusts me and reminds me of my life before, the life I thought I had left far behind.
“How may I please you?” the little girl asks me in Russian. She is just that, a little slip of a thing, not over the age of twenty.
I put my fingers under her chin and lift her face so that her eyes meet mine. She is pretty, long brown hair and bright blue eyes, dulled by her life, but still bright in color. She is too thin, and I see bruises all over her pale skin. A fleeting thought runs through my mind, and I wonder when the last time she saw the sun was. Haleigh enjoyed lying out by the pool and soaking up the rays.
“Your name?” I bark.
Her eyes widen before she answers.
“Klara,” she answers softly. I nod. She is not who I want. I take money out of my pocket and hand it to her.
“No, you must give this to the woman in front,” she pleads. Klara raises her hands, and she is refusing to take it.
“This is not for that old cunt; it is for you. Use it for whatever you need to. Leave here, start over,” I instruct. I then watch as she licks her dry lips, looking up at me with caution, as she should.
“How may I thank you?” Her tone turns seductive, and I close my eyes as her hand slides to my cock.
Klara softly palms me, the friction making me hard even though I do not want to be. I groan, and she takes that as a sign to take things further. She unbuckles my belt, and I shiver as she takes me into her mouth.
I should push her away, tell her to stay away from my cock, but I am so fucking lonely. I accept the blowjob, and I have to close my eyes and imagine my beautiful Haleigh before I can come. I leave the brothel disgusted with myself. That was not meant to happen.
“Was it her?” Gregori asks. I gruffly tell him no.
Later that evening in our hotel, my phone rings—Pasha.
I answer because Pasha will send somebody to kill me if I do not. Pasha understands this journey, and he is allowing it only because I am also doing business for him while I am here.
“Pasha,” I say grabbing a shot glass and a bottle of vodka—when in Russia, right?
“It is time for you to come home,” he orders.
I sigh into the phone, and Gregori looks at me, knowing exactly what this conversation entails. Pasha has called me at least once every week to entice me back home.
“You know I cannot. I have not found who I am looking for,” I say, closing my eyes.
It is true; I have not found the leader of the group who took my Haleigh. I know he operates here in Russia. I have not found the whore I have been searching for either. Two important people, two people I must find before I can breathe freely. Two people I should have searched for and found many years ago. Two people I was afraid of searching for until now.
“Sonia has me call, she is concerned for Haleigh. She says she is not doing so well,” he informs me. I shake my head as the man can see me.
“Dimitri would call if there was problem, Pasha. You know this,” I say trying, to curb that guilt rolling around in my stomach.
Pasha laughs, and it angers me immediately.
“Dimitri is too busy trying to run your business here. He is never at the house, Maxim. Did you think your company was going to run itself? We need that legitimacy. It
cannot fail. Sonia has spent as much time as possible with the girl, as have the other wives, but she continues to retreat. Sleeping all day and hardly leaving the house. If she lives through the birth of the baby, I highly doubt she will live past much more. The only reason the child thrives is because Sonia forces her to eat and gives her pills for nutrition.”
How am I just hearing this now?
“How have you not told me any of this before? All you have said was that she was sad. She has lived through a hell I cannot imagine, Pasha. I knew she would be fucking sad,” I bark.
Gregori is staring at me from across the room. He looks guilty, and it makes me wonder what he could be feeling guilt over? I look back at him in question, and he immediately looks away. It piques my interest. What is he hiding?
Gregori disappears every other week for four days. I know not where he goes, but he comes back much happier and I can only assume he has found some woman to regularly fuck. Does he feel guilty that he has found his happiness? I would never begrudge him that.
“Would you have cared? Would you have done anything besides sending Dimitri or Sonia to her aid? You are still part of this family, but I am releasing you from my control. You are no longer my Brigadier, you will answer to somebody else from now on. Somebody in Moscow. I am done with this.
“No man under my control and care treats the woman he wanted, bartered for, and purposely impregnated this way. I may be a sick fuck, Maxim, but would never treat my Sonia the way you have Haleigh. She will forever be under my protection, but you are not.
“Maybe Dimitri will take her as mistress since he has taken your rank. He is no longer Boevik he is now my new Brigadier.” Pasha hangs up the phone, and I just stare at it.
Pasha has released me; the only person I have cared for in my life aside from Sonia and Haleigh. The man I have always looked up to has written me off. I don’t know what to do.
Is this mission bullshit? I know that if it is successful, it will not be bullshit—but if I fail? If I fail, then I have let down the whore I am searching for, my wife, and my child. Is the risk worth the payout? I do not know.
I fill up my shot glass, one after the other, after the other, until my vision blurs and I pass out.
Gregori doesn’t ask me what has happened, but I suspect he can figure it out. He isn’t stupid.
Once I am finally asleep, I dream.
I dream of my beautiful ballerina. I dream of the depth of her sadness and how it makes my chest ache to see her sad—to know that I have caused the sadness. I am the reason she cries. I hate myself. I do not deserve her. I need to stay away from her even more now because I don’t deserve her beauty.
I peek into the crib, watching my sweet baby boy, Maksimilyan Lasovska. I haven’t chosen a middle name for him yet. How could I, when picking his first name was so difficult. The moment Maxim left me, it was as if my heart shattered into a million pieces. The only thing that has made me smile since that day is my Maksimilyan.
“He is a good, strong, healthy boy,” Dimitri says quietly, walking up behind me.
“Yes, I just wish …” I let my words trail off.
After all of these months, I know that what I wish will never come true. He will never come back to me now. It has been too long.
“I know you do. I wish I knew the right thing to tell you,” he says softly, his strong chest pressed against my back as his hand curves around my hip.
I should push him away. I should be angry that he is even touching me, but the human contact feels nice. I feel like I am the dirty whore Maxim accused me of being. I am just so damn lonely.
“Dimitri,” I warn suppressing a moan when his fingers dig into my hip. His lips skim my neck before I completely lose his body heat from behind me.
“I know your heart loves him, Haleigh. I would not ask for your heart—ever. I just hope that one day you can like me enough to let your body be mine. We could make each other happy, sladkiy. I will wait for you,” he murmurs softly before he leaves the room.
I cry.
I let the tears flow as I look down on my baby. My son.
He needs his father, but if Maxim won’t come back to me, he still needs a good man to guide him. Pasha will, of course, be a part of his life as a guiding grandfather, but I know boys need more; they need a daily presence. Dimitri can be that man. He has made it clear he will be that man. I just don’t know if I can let him be that man.
Natalia, the beautiful blond wife of one of Maxim’s warriors, shows at my door with a tray of desserts and a smile. We have become friends, the women who belong to the men in Maxim’s life. They have helped me through his departure, and they all come with stories of betrayal and heartache at the hands of their men.
I am not alone any longer. I am lonely, but I am not alone. These women have suffered greatly, some at the hands of their men and some at the hands of others in retaliation for something their men have done. We understand each other. We are sisters.
“You need to eat. You are too thin.” Natalia grins, shoving the desserts in my hands as she takes Maksimilyan from my arms.
“I need to lose this baby weight is what I need to do,” I snort, following her into my living room and settling down on the sofa.
“Have you not heard from him?” she asks, cuddling my sweet bundle to her chest.
I shake my head, unable to say the words.
“Dimitri has heard from him, then?” she asks, arching a brow.
“I don’t know,” I confess with a shrug.
“Dimitri wants you, though, no?” She quips. She knows too much.
“He has mentioned a relationship, if I am ever ready to try and accept the fact that Maxim is gone from me,” I say without crying, for the first time. It feels like a tiny victory.
“Dimitri is a good man, Haleigh. He would treat you and Maksimilyan right,” she whispers.
“I know. I should accept what he has offered, but I love Maxim. How stupid am I?”
“You are a woman who has fallen in love and has had her heart broken by an idiot of a man. You are not stupid. You, my dear, are normal,” she mutters.
Natalia and I spend the afternoon just enjoying our friendship without any more talks of depressing relationship problems.
I love Maxim, but how long should I pretend that he will come back when I know the truth? He isn’t coming back. To be honest, after everything we have been through, we probably couldn’t make our marriage last even if he did come back.
I could physically be with Dimitri and should feel no guilt. I am under no illusions that Maxim is being faithful to me at this moment. I don’t expect him to be, and I would be naïve to think that he even could be.
I don’t know all about Maxim’s past, but I know that whatever he lived through as a child and a young man was torturous. He uses sex, hard fucking, and domination to cope with the demons swirling around inside of his head.
My abduction and rape only added fuel to his demons.
I close my eyes, and as I do every single night since he left me … I dream.
I dream of my beautiful ice blue-eyed Russian.
The man who owns my heart and soul.
The man who can make or break me.
Unfortunately, I am broken right now and only this man can fix me.
I pray he comes back to me before I am completely destroyed.
The days come and go, all in a blur. I drink heavily as Gregori and I try to find the people we need, to end this mission, this self-imposed mission of ours.
My new Pakhan—boss—is much colder and harsher than Pasha ever was. He requires me to do much dirtier work, things I haven’t had to execute myself, since I was a young warrior just starting out.
I cannot even count the number of people I have tortured and killed—the number of women I have killed for being traitors in the short months I have been back in Moscow. As I slit the throats of these people, I feel nothing but emptiness.
I miss my wife.
I want my baby in my ar
ms.
I want the life I built for myself back.
The worst was when I had to kill a child of a rival as a warning. I could only look at the boy and think of my own child. My nameless, faceless child. I hadn’t killed a child in so long, since I was one myself.
I cried as I held the dead child in my arms. How cold and cruel this life of mine is that I could even stomach killing a harmless child for war, as a warning. It sickens me.
Pasha has not contacted me again, and I know by this time, my child has come into this world.
Will I ever know what I had? His or her name?
I have come to terms that I have lost my Haleigh forever. Is it Dimitri that holds her at night? The thought makes me sick and angry, so I drink more.
“You need to call Dimitri,” Gregori mutters as we round the corner of the apartment, looking for a brown-haired, blue-eyed beauty. We have found many, but none has been—her.
“Nyet,” I clip. He tells me this at least twice a week. I never listen.
“His is good man, Dimitri, he will take care of her and the child.”
I come very close to shooting the bastard in the head, but I do not. As the weeks drag on, I have become less tolerant of Gregori, of his advice and his continued disappearances. He is not everything he claims to be, and I feel as though he is leading me around in circles. I refuse to be led on for much longer.
This mission must end for my own sanity, if nothing else. Am I a man if I give up? I do not know. Things are not adding up with him, and I am becoming suspicious, but I cannot show it. If he suspects I am, even a little bit, he will change tactics. Gregori is extremely intelligent, and I do not put anything past him.
Together, we walk into a small room and my eyes and body instantly recognize the girl in the corner—it is her.
Mariya.
She is as beautiful as she was the last time I saw her, at only six years old, when she was ripped from me. Taken by the same people who had Haleigh taken from me. I have never been brave enough to look for her until Haleigh had been taken. I need to right my wrongs in this world before I can accept myself, my life, and hopefully, my wife. I needed to find this woman.
Owned by the Badman (Russian Bratva #1) Page 14