Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
It’s his face.
Closed off. Completely devoid of any emotion for me.
He pauses at least two feet away from me and thrusts the computer onto the table beside me.
“I have recovered these files,” he tells me. “From an email you received. Do you still deny it?”
I glance at the screen, genuinely horrified by the sight before me.
The photos are of me. But I don’t remember them. I was too drugged. Too fucked up.
I turn away and feel the urge to retch. Alexei is watching me closely, devoid of any sympathy whatsoever.
“Why are you showing me these?” I ask.
“You were the one that received them. You were the one, always asking if I liked fucking my whore wife. So this is what you wanted? You wanted them to know it too. Why continue to deny it?”
“Lyoshka.” I stand up and take a tentative step forward. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Do not come near me,” he says.
I feel like I’ve been slapped. My hands are trembling, and I am no longer able to contain the emotion that I’ve been holding back for the last two weeks as his eyes move over me.
“I want to know why,” he tells me. “Why did you do it?”
“Do what?” I ask again.
“Make a mockery of your husband,” he replies.
I take another step towards him, pleading. “Whatever has happened, you are wrong. I would never hurt you, Lyoshka. Please. I am begging you…”
For a brief moment, there is confliction in his eyes. He wants to believe me, but his past won’t let him.
“You are having my child,” he cuts me off. “But I want nothing more to do with you until then.”
“No.” I shake my head in between the painful sobs that are now wracking my body. “You are wrong, Lyoshka. Please… I love you.”
He’s on me then. His fingers squeezing my face between them in a harsh and painful grip, his eyes filled with wrath. He can’t see past it. He can’t see past his hatred. It’s consuming him, and I am powerless to stop it. I don’t understand. How can he not see that he is my whole world?
“Don’t ever say that again. Don’t ever lie to my face, Solnyshko. If you were anyone else, you would already be dead.”
He releases me and walks back to the door.
And with the sound of the lock, so cuts the cord tethering us together.
45
Alexei
I have not seen my wife in two months, with the exception of the cameras I sometimes watch her on.
Her betrayal is worse than any other.
I thought with time, she would relent. But she will not admit to what she has done. And even now, it hurts to look at her.
She is due in two months. And then, I don’t know what will happen.
My rage is consuming me. Threatening the life I have built for myself within the Vory. Threatening my relationship with Franco, Magda, and even Viktor.
I have not left my house since the incident.
I have studied everything. Watched the tapes of us together over and over again. Looking for signs. Looking for her hatred.
I still can’t see it.
And that is what burns me the most. How she continues to fool me when the only logical answer is there on her computer. I have not yet informed Viktor of what I found there. I still can’t make sense of it myself. She could barely operate the computer when she got it. At least, that’s what Magda said.
Another lie.
I have gone through everything. Credit card purchases. I cannot figure out how she got the camera. I believe that Sergei has gotten to her.
It is what makes the most sense. He wants to destroy me, and she is all too willing to help. I don’t know how she did it. I only know that everything points to her. And I have learned for the last time never to trust anyone.
There has been no word on Arman. After Ronan hit his shipments, he returned to Bulgaria. And now, only in a few short hours time, I will be on my way there myself. Because I can no longer go another day without the answers. Without the truth.
Magda appears at my door, setting down my dinner. For the last month, she has not uttered a word to me either. But it is better this way.
I don’t expect anything from her this evening, so I am surprised when she tries again.
“She is not doing well, Alyoshka,” she tells me. “I am concerned for her.”
“You only have one job, Magda,” I answer. “Keep her alive and healthy.”
She opens her mouth to protest, but I cut her off. “I am busy.”
And so she leaves.
Leaves me to my misery. My cognac. And my plans.
Tomorrow, Arman will die at my hands.
And I will have my answers.
Why he sent her those photos. What they hoped to accomplish.