Chapter 11 Marlena
The car ride back from the Kensington's was silent.
Nikolai stared out of the window, his jaw tight while I just sat there trying to breathe.
I have evidence of every crime you've committed.
Vivienne's words echoed in my head, looping endlessly until I just wanted to scream.
My phone pinged in my clutch. I almost ignored it but something made me look. The message was from an unknown number once again.
My stomach twisted before I even opened it. The photo loaded slowly as if the universe wanted to drag out my torture. It was a picture of Luka in his hospital bed.
He was asleep and vulnerable with an IV in his arm. Over his face, there was a large x drawn in red paint.
The world tilted. I couldn't breathe. I lowered the window glass more and tried to inhale slowly.
Below the photo: Stop digging or he pays the price.
My hands shook so violently, I almost dropped the phone.
The screen blurred as tears filled my eyes without permission.
Stop digging? I was not digging into anything – that is, unless they meant tonight with Richard's comment about Dmitri and Viktor and my questions.
But I had not been investigating. I was just asking.
Another text came through: You think Volkov will protect you? He can't even protect himself.
A sound escaped my lips, something between a gasp and a sob.
“Marlena?”
Nikolai's voice felt far away and muffled like I was underwater.
“Marlena, What's wrong?”
I shoved my phone into my purse quickly so he wouldn't see but my hands could not stop shaking. Infact, my whole body was shaking now and I couldn't control it.
“Nothing,” I said. I sounded choked, “I’m fine,”
"You're not fine." His hand reached for me, but I flinched away.
"Don't touch me.” My voice cracked as I shifted farther away from him until I was at the other end.
Nikolai pulled back, his expression unreadable. "What happened?"
"Nothing. I said nothing." I pressed my palms against my thighs, trying to ground myself, but my heart was racing too fast, hammering against my ribs like it wanted to escape.
Like I wanted to escape, but there was nowhere to go. No way out.
Luka's face with that red X burned behind my eyelids every time I blinked.
The rest of the drive was spent in silence. I was grateful because I didn't think I would be able to get any words past my throat after what I had seen.
I was dimly aware of Anton opening the door, of walking through the lobby, of the elevator climbing.
My legs moved automatically, but my mind was stuck on that photo.
Someone had been in Luka's room, close enough to photograph him sleeping.
Close enough to hurt him.
"Marlena." Nikolai's voice cut through the static in my head. We were in the penthouse. When had we gotten here? "Talk to me."
"There's nothing to talk about.”
“Bullshit,” He stepped closer to me but I stumbled back, “You're white as a sheet and shaking like –”
“Like what?”
My voice broke completely. "Like I'm trapped? Like I'm scared? Congratulations, Nikolai, you win. This is what you wanted, right? Me, terrified and obedient?”
His jaw clenched. "That's not –"
"I'm going to bed." I turned toward the stairs, but my knees buckled.
Nikolai caught me before I hit the floor, his hands firm on my arms.
"Let go of me," I whispered, but there was no strength behind it.
"Not until you tell me what's wrong."
I looked up at him, and for a second, I wanted to show him the photo, tell him about the threats, and ask for help but Vivienne's words echoed in my head: When I show him proof of what you really are, whose side do you think he'll take?
"Please," I said instead. "Just let me go."
Something flickered in his eyes then he released me.
I made it to my room on autopilot, locked the door, and collapsed.
My back hit the floor, and that's when the sob finally broke free.
I pressed my hand over my mouth, trying to muffle the sounds, but they kept coming until they turned into ugly, gasping sobs that shook my entire body.
Luka's face. That red X. He pays the price.
I pulled out my phone with trembling fingers and called him.
It rang once. Twice. Three times.
"Hey, this is Luka. Leave a message and I'll call back as soon as possible"
Voicemail.
I tried again but got the same result.
Panic clawed up my throat. Why wasn't he answering? Was he okay? Had they already gotten to him?
No. No, he was fine. He was sleeping. That's all. Just sleeping.
But my hands were cold and shaking so bad, I had to press them together to steady myself.
I pulled up the photo again, hating myself for it, but unable to look away.
Someone had been there in his room while he slept.
They could do anything. They could tamper with his medication or unplug something vital or even smother him with a pillow and I couldn't stop them or protect him.
I couldn't do anything except sit here on this cold floor in this gilded prison while my brother died because of me because I'd signed that contract and married Nikolai.
I'd been stupid enough to think I could play this game and win.
Another sob tore through me, and I didn't bother trying to stop it.
I cried until my throat was raw and my eyes burned and there was nothing left inside me except hollow terror.
Then I just sat there, numb, staring at the photo until the screen went dark.
The penthouse was silent around me. Three floors of luxury that felt like a tomb.
I should tell Nikolai. He had security, resources, people who could protect Luka but what if he didn't care? What if this was part of his plan. Was he keeping me scared and desperate so I'd stay compliant?
Or worse: what if telling him put Luka in more danger?
I didn't know who to trust or what to do or how to survive this.
All I knew was that I was trapped and my brother was
going to die because of it.
I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, making myself as small as possible.