Til Death Do Us Part (Kornilov Bratva Duet #2) - Nicole Fox

1

Molly

When I can’t sleep, I wander.

In the shelters, it wasn’t possible. People would think you were trying to steal their things while they slept. Plus, I couldn’t leave Theo in the bed alone. So, I’d lie on the lumpy mattress with him tucked into my side and stare at the cracked ceiling.

Now, I wander through the spacious apartment Viktor is paying for while Theo sleeps in his own room. I know the apartment is luxurious and spacious, but I can’t keep myself from growing accustomed to it. To all of the wealth and riches and comfort. I want it to stay new and bewildering, but human nature is to adapt. I know that better than anyone. Now, despite my efforts, I’m adapting to being Viktor’s bird in a gilded cage.

Viktor has reminded me over and over again that he is doing all of this to protect us. The apartment and the guards are to keep me hidden and safe from his crazy brother. Theo’s crazy father.

That is the memory that keeps me up the most. The one that propels me out of bed in the middle of the night and sends me pacing around the house.

I thought I’d overcome what happened to me. I can’t remember the rape, after all, so it seems like it should have been easy to push aside and move beyond. But now that Fedor is threatening my life and coming for my son, the trauma of it rushes back fresh and new in waves that threaten to pull me under.

Those are the times I wish Viktor could be in bed with me. The times I wish I had someone to talk to. Someone to confide in.

I wandered instead of sleeping last night, so when Theo woke up at seven this morning, I struggled through breakfast and rocket-ship building until the nanny could take him for a while. I’m supposed to be studying, but I can’t seem to focus. My stomach keeps doing nervous flips, and I want to eat but nothing sounds good. Nothing has sounded good for days.

After I force down some toast with butter for lunch, I call Hannah as per our unspoken schedule.

My old friend Hannah has been a comfort to me. I can’t call her in the middle of the night when I need someone most, but we chat a few afternoons a week. Before a few months ago, it had been years since we’d spoken. She helped me out after Theo was born, setting me up with connections who could provide diapers and wipes and free vaccinations. She is the reason I made it through the early months, so now that the shit has hit the fan again, she is the only person I can think of who might be able to help.

I fall back on the bed and stare up at the ceiling. Light is streaming through the wall of windows to my right, and I curl up in the sunlight like a cat. The sun has been the only source of external warmth in my bed for over a month. Mostly because the last man I had sex with locked me in my bedroom and refused to let me leave. Viktor apologized and bought the penthouse to make it up to me, but no matter how accustomed I’ve grown to the luxury, I won’t become accustomed to his betrayal.

“Molly?”

I blink and suddenly remember I’m on the phone. “I’m here.”

“You got quiet,” Hannah says. “My service is shit, so I thought maybe I dropped the call again. Honestly, it could be my phone or my service, maybe both. But I don’t have money to fix either.”

The phone in my hand is brand-new. Viktor just set it up for me a few weeks ago. He said he wanted me to be able to talk to my friends and get in touch with anyone if I needed to, but I know he is probably using it to track me. I want to throw the phone across the room, but guilt holds me in place.

Viktor cares about me.

Sure, his care feels like a prison sentence. It is suffocating and overwhelming and toxic in more ways than I can count, but isn’t that what I always dreamt of? All those nights sleeping in shelters with Theo tucked into my side, I stared at the ceiling and prayed for someone who would care. Someone who would take care of us. Now, I have it. I wonder how fast Hannah would trade places with me if