I take a deep breath, blurting out words on an exhale. “He doesn’t fuck me in front of other people. You know why that is, Kassian? Because he doesn’t need to in order to feel like a man. Unlike you, he’s strong enough to handle me all by himself.”
I regret it... oh, holy fuck, do I regret it... but I can’t take it back. I won’t take it back. The anger takes over just like it did that night, the night he tried to kill me, the night I damn near died. He shoves Melody away from him, pushing her hard. She stumbles, tripping, crying out when she hits the floor. I can’t help her, though. No, she’s on her own.
Kassian grabs me by my neck, yanking me toward him. My vision blurs right away. He doesn’t cut off my airflow. No, he’s not playing games, not trying to make me uncomfortable. Instead, his fingers press just the perfect spot to block the blood flowing to my brain. I go lightheaded instantly, grabbing his wrists. From the corner of my eye, I see Melody get up and run, but I can’t much dwell on what’s going to happen now. I’ve got thirty seconds at most before it all goes black.
Kassian draws me closer, his lips a breath away from my lips, the world around me fading as he whispers, “Stupid little suka, you will always be mine.”
Almost a year ago, on a warm summer night, Kassian Aristov took my life.
I had gone unconscious within seconds, as he gripped my throat, hitting my head when I slammed into the floor. The doctors, they couldn’t be certain, but they suspected he’d held on for minutes, letting go just in the nick of time. In the literal sense, I managed to survive, but that doesn’t change the facts.
That night, Kassian took my life. And now, months later, he almost did it a second time.
When I come to, consciousness rushing through me, rousing me from the darkness, I’m surprised... surprised I’m still alive. It’s cold, and I’m shivering, shaking, my teeth chattering as goose bumps pebble my skin. The rigid floor beneath where I lay feels like it’s covered in frost. The air smells stale as I breathe it in.
Every inch of me feels heavy—too heavy. I sit up, my muscles protesting, and fuck, my throat is sore, my mouth so dry that my voice feels hoarse.
I sense right away that it has been longer than a few minutes. Hours, maybe.
Every blink is exaggerated, my head foggy, like something flows through my bloodstream, weighing me down.
Drugged.
Must’ve known, when I came to, I wouldn’t have come quietly.
My head rattles, swimming, as the faintest thumping noise echoes from above. Even in my groggy state, I recognize where I am.
The basement.
I’ve been here before, under the ground, beneath Limerence, in this filthy concrete dungeon.
Been here way too many times.
I try to shift around, metal clanging as heaviness presses against my chest. Reaching up, feeling around in the darkness, my fingers graze over the cold metal wrapped around my neck, secured with a padlock.
He has me chained here, like an animal.
“Wakey, wakey, pretty girl.”
My breath catches as I turn toward the sound of the voice, the chain clattering against the concrete, echoing around us. It’s hard to make out much of anything down here, but I can sense his gaze on me as something in the shadows shifts.
My voice cracks as I ask, “Why am I here?”
He laughs.
Stepping closer, close enough for my eyes to adjust and make out the shape of him, he says, “Still so much that stupid girl.”
“I thought you were taking me home,” I whisper. “Not here.”
Kassian crouches down in front of me, eye-level, looking me in the face. He says nothing for a moment. It’s unnerving.
I swallow thickly, forcing back a swell of emotion.
“Aw, my sweet pussycat,” he says, reaching toward me, nudging my chin before his thumb sweeps across my trembling bottom lip. “Did you think you would just awaken in my bed, all tucked in, snuggling with our precious little kitten? That everything would just be forgiven? Forgotten? Maybe you are stupider than I thought.”
Tears burn my eyes. I know what this room signifies. It’s sink or swim down here. This is where he breaks people, his own little twisted version of boot camp. He locks you in and puts you through hell. The girls at the club, they always called it training. You act up, you go back through training, as if this is just some regular job, like we were being taught to run cash registers instead of being forced into submission so he could sell us off.
I’m not talking about some BDSM shit. Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing even remotely cathartic about what he does. He wants you to go numb. He wants you to give up. He wants you compliant, a pretty little Play-Doh body that he can shape and form however he wants. A few he keeps for his business, but most aren’t seen around again. Some he just sells off like property, while others never even make it out of this basement.
‘She could not be trained.’
He said that about me, too.
Some girls break within hours.
Most take a few days.
After a week, he usually grows tired and discards them, but he’s been trying to break me for years.
“So pretty when you cry,” he says quietly when that first silent tear streams down my cheek. He brushes it away, his touch too gentle. It fucks with my brain. “She got that from you, our sweet kitten. Every time she cried, it reminded me of you. Those soft, shaky breaths. The way you always quivered. She did that, too. Some days, I could not even look at her without reliving what you put me through.”
“I’ve done nothing to you.”
“You ran from me,” he says. “I gave you everything. I even gave you a part of me. Yet you ran.”
“You were hurting me.”
He raises his eyebrows, looking genuinely curious as he asks, “Was I?”
I nod.
“Well,” he says, staring at me for a moment before continuing. “I suppose, then, it makes you happy to know that you have hurt me back.”
“I never wanted to—”
He grabs a hold of the chain around my neck before I can finish, his hand slipping beneath it, twisting it in his fist, tightening it to where it cuts off my words. I can’t breathe. I grab his arm, clawing at it, trying to get him to let go.
My chest feels like it bursts into flames. Oh god.
“You have not felt my hurt yet, but you will,” he says, his voice low. “By the time I am through with you, there will be nothing left for anyone else.”
He lets go, and I inhale sharply, vision blurring. I’m hyperventilating, trying to calm down, but he’s still right in front of me.
It’s overwhelming.
“Not that anyone else wants you,” he adds. “Especially not that freak. Even he does not want you now. He used you up and now he is done. You are not worth it to him.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whisper. “Lorenzo isn’t like you.”
Something flashes in Kassian’s face.
He laughs again.
He’s laughing at me.
“Oh, pussycat, you were not falling for him, were you? Did you think he would want to keep you? Oh, this is cute, suka. You gave him my pussy, and you thought you could give him my heart, too? You belong with me. Even he sees that now.”
“You’re wrong.”