Rage burns through me, overpowering my fear. I shove him back with all my strength.
"I will never be your wife. You already have one of those, you've made that clear. And you will never have me, or my daughter, again."
For a moment Luchenko looks amused by my defiance. Then his expression hardens.
"Take care, Alina," he says softly. "You try my patience."
I turn away but he reaches out and grips my chin, forcing me to meet his cold gray eyes.
"You belong to me. Never forget that."
With that, he releases me and strides back inside, the echo of his footsteps ringing with grim finality.
I let out a shaky breath, wrapping my arms around myself.
I have to escape. Tonight has made one thing clear—Luchenko will never let me go willingly, and when he finds out about my condition the stakes are only going to get higher.
I look out once more at the city lights, steeling my resolve. Whatever it takes, I will find a way out.
I take a deep breath to steady my nerves before slipping back into the opulent ballroom. The laughter and chatter wash over me, a discordant backdrop to my churning thoughts.
Luchenko is nowhere to be seen. I'm not sure if that's a relief or even more unsettling.
His presence always looms, whether he's at my side or not.
I navigate through the sea of glittering gowns and tailored suits, keenly aware of the covert glances and hushed whispers following my passage. To them, I'm an object of fascination, the infamous mistress of the powerful crime lord. An outsider.
A server passes with a tray of champagne flutes and I snag one, taking a bracing sip. The bubbles do little to calm my nerves, and I feel guilty for imbibing alcohol that could compromise my judgement. But emotions threaten to overwhelm me, and so I decide to sip instead of cry.
After all, Luchenko doesn't like his mistresses to make a scene.
As I wander, fragments of conversations reach my ears.
"...shipments coming in from the docks tomorrow night..."
"...new territory in the south side..."
I pause as a familiar laugh rings out.
Craning my neck, I spot Luchenko's lieutenant, Viktor, holding court with a group of men. His cruel eyes glint with malice as he regales them with some tale.
"...and the little girl screamed for her mother as I squeezed..."
My blood turns to ice.
Viktor's grin only widens at their raucous laughter, the monsters.
Bile rises in my throat. I have to get away from here. Away from them. It's not just about me anymore.
I quicken my pace toward the exit, no longer caring who notices my hasty departure.
All I can think about is getting out of here.
I have to escape Luchenko's web, no matter what it takes. For both our sakes.
With a deep breath, I step back out onto the balcony, the cool night air raising goosebumps on my bare arms. Below me, the city sprawls out in a glittering expanse, deceptively peaceful from this distance.
If I stare long enough, I can almost pretend I don't know the ugliness lurking in its shadows.