MILENA
The wrenching, creaking sound of the lock on the basement door twisting open gets me up from the cot.
I wasn’t sleeping, even though I’m utterly exhausted. I don’t know how I managed to fall asleep the first time in this hellish hole. But it’s not happening again.
I have no idea how long I’ve been down here. A day? Three? I do know my body is wrecked and sore. I know I’m starving. I know I desperately need to use the bathroom, but there is no way in hell I’m using that fucking bucket.
But I don’t know what to feel anymore.
I hate him.
I love him.
He disgusts me.
I crave him.
I’m somewhere in the middle of it all, in the center of a four-circle Venn diagram.
Last night—or whenever it was—after he fucked my mouth, and my ass, and gave me what I hate to admit might be the biggest orgasm of my life… He just left.
I guess it would be dumb to hope for pillow talk when he apparently hates me.
…Even though what he hates me for is utter bullshit.
I never said those things to my father. I know it’s a doctored video. I’d never say those things or agree to set Nero up for an ambush.
That’s just not who I am. And what makes it even more impossible to believe is that back then, when I was going to meet him, not even knowing who he was, I was already in love with him.
My pen pal.
I swore to myself we were just meeting because he was into the same fucked-up kinks I was. That he could help me explore them. That it was just two friends with similar tastes who were meeting to indulge them, nothing more.
But the truth is, I’d already fallen in love with him, without ever having met him, touched him, or kissed him.
For that reason alone, I know there’s no way I would have ever agreed to lead my father’s men to him, despite what that bullshit video says.
Of course, Papa. This is what we Kalishniks do. Besides, he means nothing to me. It’s all a means to an end.
I literally would never have said that. Ever. And that’s all ignoring the fact that my father couldn’t even speak during that period. He was barely conscious, lying in bed, being pumped full of poison.
But there’s another facet to this that I keep shying away from, because it’s a truth that hurts.
I did know.
Even though I didn’t set him up, I did go home that night and hear directly from my uncle that my family had sent men after Nero’s.
I knew that, and four years later, when our paths crossed again, I kept fucking him, and I didn’t say a thing about what happened in the past. I can try and sugarcoat it, say that I wasn’t sure if the man I’d met four years ago was Nero or Laz…
But I think I’ve always known it was Nero. The questions and doubts were just the last little part of me that wasn’t sure I wanted it to be him.
And even when that last question was snuffed out, when I knew for sure—when he told me the story of that night, and his parents being murdered—I knew and I said nothing.
For that, I am guilty.
Maybe I do deserve to be locked in here.
The basement door shudders as it wrenches inward. Nero walks in, not looking at me, a tray in his hand. He walks over to the door of the cage, unlocking it with another heavy metallic clank.
Part of me wants to point out to him the absurdity of even locking the cage, considering I can’t even reach that side of it since I’m chained to this one. Or, even more absurdly, locking the door to the basement, as if I’d ever get that far.
But I stay quiet as he swings the cage door open and steps in. I try to catch his eye as he moves toward me, but he purposefully avoids my gaze as he drops the tray at my feet.
“Food,” he grunts, nodding at a bottle of water, a bag of pretzel sticks, and a slightly burned piece of toast.
I don’t care how pathetic I look: I instantly drop to my knees and attack the food, almost swallowing the toast whole as my stomach groans in joy. I choke down half the pretzels before I reach for the water. Then I tense as my bladder screams.
“Nero?”
No answer.
“Nero, I have to use the bathroom.”
“Your commode awaits,” he growls, pointing to the bucket.
“Nero…”
His piercing green eyes finally swivel to clash with mine. “What,” he snarls darkly.
“I…I’m not going to use a fucking bucket.”
His lips curl. “Oh, is this not up to standards for a princess like—”
“It’s not up to the standards of humane fucking conditions,” I snap coldly. “May I please use an actual bathroom?”
He draws in a slow breath through his nose.
“Fine.”
He walks past me, squatting down to the lock that keeps my chain attached to the bars, and uses a key to open it. He stands again, pulling the chain behind him, tugging it when it goes taut.
I’m on a freaking leash.
“Well?” he mutters.
I stand on shaky legs, walking barefoot after him as we exit the cage. I turn to head for the door that leads to the stairs going up, but Nero tugs the chain, pulling me in another direction.
“This way.”
I follow him across the large basement until he reaches another door and tugs it open on rusty hinges.
There’s a toilet and a sink inside.
I blink and then slowly turn my head to stare openmouthed at him.
“This works?”
He lifts a shoulder. “Yes…?”
“And it was here the whole—”
“If you’re still mistaking this for the Ritz fucking Carlton,” he snaps, “I’d be happy to pour more cold water over you while you’re sleeping next time.”
I shift my eyes past him, to the bathroom.
“I… I could really use a shower,” I mumble.
“Terrific. Use the sink,” he says flatly. “Now, are you going in or not?”
I nod, quickly walking past him.
Fuck, his scent hits me hard: leather, a hint of bergamot, a bit of spice.
It’s so him, and this whole situation is so not him, that my chest tightens.
I start to close the door, but Nero sticks his foot in front of it.
“Yeah, no.”
“Seriously, what am I going to do?” I snap. “Tunnel out? Or do you just want to watch me pee that badly?”
He glowers at me. Then he moves, and I gasp as he squeezes his large body into the tiny bathroom with me, pushing me tight to the sink. He leans down, and I hear the clank of the lock as he secures my chain to the pipes under the sink.
He steps back out of the bathroom and blinks impassively at me.
“I reserve the right to open the door at any time.”
“Got it,” I mumble as I shut the door in his face.
I use the bathroom, then I take off my filthy dress and use the rickety sink and the tiny scrap of god-only-knows how old bar soap to wash myself. By the time I’m done, I’m dripping wet, and there’s no towel, but I at least feel a bit cleaner.
I pull the dress back on, no longer even caring that it shows everything as it clings to my wet body.
When I step out, Nero glares at me. “All dewy and fresh?” he says sarcastically.
“Not really,” I mumble. “Can I get some fresh clothes or something?”
He smiles icily.
“No.”
He leads me back to the cage, locks my chain to the bars, and shuts the door. Then he walks over to the TV and turns it on. The infernal loop starts again.
“Are you ready for tonight?”
“Yes Papa, I’m ready.”
I groan, sinking onto the cot and burying my face in my hands.
“I already told you,” I blurt at him. “That didn’t happen!”
“You’ll make sure Nero is at the spot you agreed on?”
“Of course, Papa.”
Nero turns to smile coldly at me. “Figured I’d give you something to watch to pass the time,” he growls. “Until you’re ready to admit what you did.”
“It’s fake!!”
“Excellent. If that changes, let me know immediately.”
“Yes, Papa.”
“Goddammit!!” I scream at Nero through the bars between us, tears beading in my eyes. “You want me to admit it!? FINE! I’m actually a sociopath who spent months getting to know you via fucking letters, so that I could help with my family’s masterplan to kill you. Surprise!!”
I spit the words venomously into the dim light of the basement.
“I’m proud of you, malyshka. Doing what the family needs you to do.”
“Of course, Papa. This is what we Kalishniks do. Besides, he means nothing to me. It’s all a means to an end.”
Nero grins again. “Well, I’ll just leave this running, then.”
“I just admitted it!” I scream at him. “It was me, okay?! I tried to get you killed. I’m responsible for all of it. Now can I get out of this fucking cage?!”
The video starts to loop again.
“Are you ready for tonight?”
“Yes Papa, I’m ready.”
“You’ll make sure Nero is at the spot you agreed on?”
“Of course, Papa.”
A sob wracks my body as I drop back onto the cot. It doesn’t matter what I say. I’m already guilty in his eyes.
“I’m proud of you, malyshka. Doing what the family needs you to do.”
I jolt as my head snaps up. Nero’s already reaching for the basement door knob when I lurch to my feet.
“Wait!” I yell. “Rewind it!”
He turns to frown at me. “What?”
“The tape!”
“It’s on a loop. What the fuck for?”
“Just wait!” I blurt, my chest heaving as I stare at the TV screen.
It loops again, until it gets to the part where I tell my father about the location.
“I’m proud of you, malyshka,” my father says on screen. “Doing what the family needs you to do.”
“THERE!” I yell. “Right there! Proof that this is all bullshit!”
Nero looks at me half like he’s amused, half like he’s questioning my sanity.
“Malyshka,” I choke out. “That’s Russian for baby girl.” My eyes lock with Nero’s. “My father never calls me malyshka. He calls me SOLnyshka, for little sun.” I tug on a lock of my blonde hair. “Because of my hair?”
Nero stares at me. Then he looks to the screen. Then he looks back at me. My pulse races, a nervous laugh bubbling up from my throat.
“See?!” I blurt wildly. “See?! It’s fake! He’d never say malyshka! He’d have said solnyshka!” I stab my finger at the TV. “It’s all a lie!”
Nero blinks, his green eyes slicing into me.
My lips curl slightly at the corners as a hopeful smile dares to peek out.
“I’d ration the rest of those pretzels. Might be a while before you get more food.”
My heart drops like a stone. The hopeful smile withers and dies on my lips.
Without another word, he turns, walks through the door, and locks it behind him.
