Chapter 137 Anya
The basement became my entire world. Concrete walls. Concrete floor. Concrete ceiling. A single light bulb that never turned off. A bucket in the corner that Alexei's men emptied once a day. Chains around my wrists that left my skin raw and bleeding.
Time stopped having meaning. Days blurred into nights. Nights blurred into days. The only way I could tell time was by counting the meals. Alexei brought me food twice a day. Sometimes bread and water. Sometimes nothing. Sometimes he brought a plate of real food just to eat it in front of me while I starved.
"You could have all of this," he said one day, chewing on a piece of steak. "A comfortable bed. Good food. Freedom. All you have to do is apologize."
"For what?"
"For betraying me. For going to the police. For choosing Nikolai over me."
I laughed. It came out hoarse and broken. "I will never apologize to you."
His face darkened. He threw the plate against the wall. China shattered. Food splattered across the concrete. "Then you will rot down here until you change your mind."
He left. The door slammed shut. The lock clicked. I was alone again.
I counted the bricks on the wall to keep my mind from breaking. There were two hundred and seventeen. I counted them over and over until the numbers stopped making sense. I sang songs to myself. Old songs from childhood. My voice echoed off the walls and came back to me like a ghost.
I thought about Nikolai constantly. Wondered if he was alive. Wondered if he was planning a rescue. I hoped he had given up and moved on. At least one of us should be free.
One night the door opened and Alexei came down with a chair. He set it up in front of me and sat down. He looked tired. Dark circles under his eyes. His clothes wrinkled.
"I have been thinking about us," he said. "About what we could have been if you had just loved me back."
"I could never love you."
"I know. But I thought maybe if I gave you enough time, you would learn. The way people learn to love anything. Through habit. Through familiarity."
"That is not love. That is Stockholm syndrome."
He smiled sadly. "Maybe. But what is the difference? Love is just chemicals in the brain. You loved Nikolai because your brain learned to associate him with safety. I could have given you the same thing."
"No. You could not. Because Nikolai never hurt me the way you have."
"He locked you in a cage."
"And you locked me in a basement. You are no better than him. You are worse. At least Nikolai felt guilty. You feel nothing."
Alexei stood up. The chair scraped against the concrete. "You are wrong. I feel everything. The pain of loving someone who hates you. The rage of being rejected. The jealousy of watching you love a dead man more than a living one."
He walked to the door and stopped. "One day you will understand. One day when Nikolai is truly dead. When you have no one left but me. You will learn to love me because you will have no other choice."
The door closed. The lock clicked. I curled up on the floor and cried until there were no tears left.
Days passed. Or maybe weeks. My body grew weaker. My mind grew hazier. I started seeing things that were not there. Shadows moving in the corners. Voices whispering my name.
One day I woke up and could not remember what Nikolai's face looked like. The panic that hit me was worse than any pain Alexei had inflicted. I was forgetting him. Forgetting the only good thing in my life.
I forced myself to remember. Every memory. Every conversation. Every touch. Every kiss. I built him back piece by piece in my mind until I could see him clearly again. Dark hair. Strong jaw. Eyes that could be soft or hard. A scar on his left shoulder. The way he smiled when he thought no one was watching. I held onto these memories like a drowning person holds onto driftwood. They were all I had left.
The door opened again. I expected Alexei. But it was one of his guards. A young man with a kind face. He looked nervous.
"Mrs. Volkov," he whispered. "I have a message. He wanted you to know that he has not forgotten you. That he is coming. That you need to hold on just a little longer."
My heart stopped. "Nikolai?"
"I did not say that. But yes." He glanced at the stairs. "He is planning something. It will be soon. Be ready."
"How do I get ready? I am chained to a wall."
"I will help when the time comes. I promise." He started to leave then stopped. "My brother worked for Markov. He was a good boss. Fair. Loyal. He died for him and I would do the same."
He left before I could respond. I sat there in shock, hope blooming in my chest like a flower growing through concrete. Nikolai was alive. Nikolai was planning. Nikolai was coming. I just had to survive until then.
I started exercising as much as the chains would allow. Stretching. Flexing. Keeping my muscles from atrophying. I ate every scrap of food Alexei brought me. I drank every drop of water. I slept when I could. And I waited.
Days passed. The guard did not come back. I started to wonder if I had imagined him. If hope had finally driven me insane.
Then one night I heard footsteps on the stairs. Multiple sets. Moving quickly.
The door burst open. Alexei stood there with five of his men. They were all armed. They all looked tense.
"Get her up," Alexei ordered.
The men unlocked my chains and dragged me to my feet. My legs buckled. I had not stood in so long I had forgotten how.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Somewhere safe. Your husband is coming for you. And when he arrives, I want to make sure he finds exactly what I want him to find."
They dragged me up the stairs and into a car. We drove through the night to a building I did not recognize. Tall. Industrial. Abandoned.
They took me inside and chained me to a beam in the center of a large empty room. Spotlights were set up around me. Cameras. Microphones.
"What is this?" I demanded.
Alexei smiled. That terrible smile that made my skin crawl.
"This is the stage. And you are the star. When Nikolai comes, and he will come, I am going to make sure he sees everything. I am going to break him in ways he never imagined. And you are going to help me do it."
"I will never help you."
"You will not have a choice."
He turned to his men. "Set everything up. I want this perfect. I want Markov to remember this moment for the rest of his very short life."
They left me alone in the spotlight. Chained like an animal on display.
And I realized that whatever Alexei had planned, it was worse than anything he had done before. This was not just about keeping me prisoner. This was about destroying Nikolai completely.
And I was the weapon he was going to use to do it.