CHAPTER 84
ALESSANDRA VITELLO VOLKOV.
“You’ve never been gone this long and to sound like a complaining and concerned sister, I’m worried Ale. The kids have been asking for you”, I hear the pain in her voice of having to repeat the same conversation with me and I try to be gentle with my next words.
“I know. I know but this is the last trip, I promise. This is the last thing I’ve gotta do before I see my babies again.”
The pain in my throat throbs as the cool air from the night assaults my shoulders and arms.
“How long?”
Another lump grows in my throat.
“I don’t know. I really don’t know Athena.”
“You wanna tell me what you are up to this time around?”
“I can’t.”
I can’t call Kat and tell her. Or her husbands.
I can’t shout to the world that he is alive either.
“I had a feeling you’d say that. As long as Yan is with you, that’s all that matters. He is with you, right?”
You mean butchering the bushes while he’s been giving me frustrated looks during the few days we’ve been here? Then yes. Yan is here. And he is not happy.
“Yeah. Can I see them?”
“Sure, one minute.”
She cuts the call.
I would have settled for a video call but that would risk her seeing the place I’m at or nosing around together with our mother to find out where exactly I am in New York.
It takes another minute before Athena sends like five videos and picture after picture to my phone.
I open the first video.
‘Liam had a bit of a rough day after Ethan stole his Captain America doll, he made a fuss so I ordered an even cooler toy for him. Isn’t that right buddy?’
Athena whispers in the video because it’s four am in Sicily while it’s ten pm where I am.
My heart gets stuck in my throat as a few hot tears run down my cheeks.
‘Don’t worry, Ale. Of course, I’ll give him a kiss for you.’
And she does and my baby who is in a cute moo cow onesie I bought for him a few months ago stirs in his sleep but he doesn’t wake up.
She moves to Ethan who’s holding Millie.
‘And here are the babies who took after you instead of taking over my awesomeness. Millie taught her brothers to finger paint this week and they might have colored Brenda’s white new blouse. You should have seen them, Ale, they are even cheekier than you are. That’s it for tonight. Same time tomorrow or next week?’
I nod even though they can’t see me or hear me.
“Mommy misses you so much, babies. So, so much”, I coo and then I pause the video kissing the screen like I’m right there with them, sleeping next to them and listening to their voices.
I miss you all so much, my little angels.
More tears flow down my cheeks and I allow them to. My babies have always been my weakness no matter every fucking challenge the universe has thrown my way.
I’m in the middle of hugging my babies through the screen when my phone pings with a new text.
West: My ego’s a little bruised that you didn’t text first, beautiful.
I almost want to choke on saliva than the tears rolling down my cheeks.
Weston Marasigan, the playboy who happens to be Christian’s friend, was only a means to an end.
If there is anything Christian Volkov, my Christian; hated was to see me getting cozy with another man.
When I eloped with Rhett…
He got jealous, he got violent and I’m afraid that’s the only thing that will bring his memories and his love for me.
So?
I flirted with Weston.
I pretended to be interested in the guy.
All in front of my husband.
And you know what my husband did? He brimmed with jealousy, cornered me in his kitchen, before he made my pussy wet and disappeared.
Was I angry that he left me needy, hot, bothered and a mess? Yes, I was. But am I happy this shows a breakthrough in Christian coming back to me? Yes, I am.
I press on the message.
I’m about to reply to the text with something flirty when the phone gets yanked from my hands.
Thunder quakes outside with the promise of a heavy downpour.
I turn around, my back touching the rail of the balcony through the flimsy night gown I have on which is more of a camisole than a night dress.
This library is the only place I’ve been able to hide in. More importantly, it has no security cameras and no one ever comes here not even Maria.
Imagine my surprise when dark-brown eyes so dark they are almost frightening stare back at me, his hair is messy in that sort of ‘I just rolled out of bed’ look, his jaw that’s covered with a well-trimmed gruff, tics as his eyes flick through my phone and then they land on me.
He’s got a white tank top. One that shows his muscles and tattoos that get heightened with the dark.
His sweatpants hang low giving me a look at the Calvin Klein band around his waist.
The real reason I’m hanging on his eyes is because they display only one emotion and one emotion only.
Anger. Red. Hot. Blazing.
My phone in his hand, he takes brisk steps toward me and I take two back landing in the same position we were in earlier.
My back hits the cold metallic rail of the balcony. His whole figure clouds me and everything around me.
I don’t even register it’s started drizzling or that the rain is being pushed by the wind toward my back, my shoulders and the back of my hair.
‘Christian.’ I want to whisper. I’d go to any lengths to call him that but that’s not who he is. Not yet.
“Sir.”
I hate that three-letter word. Despise it. Resent it.
“You don’t get it, do you, little stalker? You are not going to be the woman who changes him. He views you as another easy hole he can get access to. And if you are making it this easy for me, is that what you plan to do when he asks you to spread his legs for him? And all for what? A few dollars? A good ‘I went from rags to riches because of my millionaire boyfriend’ type of story?”
He’s jealous.
This is how he shows it.
But damn do his words sneak all the way into my heart cutting me into pieces.
They feel like I’m being forced to chug acid down my throat.
He takes another step towards me, his chest bumping with mine, my hard nipples poking through my nightdress to his chest because I know he can feel it.
He can hear my teeth rattle from the cold. He can see the goosebumps litter my skin. He can see the rain drench me.
I think he’ll care.
He doesn’t.
On the contrary, he holds my phone to the side of my face dangling it outside of the balcony.
I know what he wants to do.
And this time? I beg like I mean it.
“Please don’t.”
That phone has our children, Christian.
That phone will help me sleep better tonight because it has videos of our angels, Christian.
One of his hands reaches out to my cheek, his thumb touching the tears streaking down my cheeks with the intensifying rain that roars and growls harder.
His eyes on me. No mercy. No remorse.
He drops my phone.
The phone makes a crashing sound with the pavement outside.
“No!” I shout, turning around to see it.
I can’t see it. Not with the darkness. Not with the rain. I can’t see… them. My babies. My hope. My only…
I have to get it.
I turn around but both his hands cage me against the balcony.
“Let me go”, I sob. He doesn’t budge.
“Let the phone go. Let West go.”
No. I can’t.
“Let me go!” I thrash and the minute that hand that touched my cheek earlier reaches out to touch me, I snap.
Pulling my elbow back, furious at what he just did, my fist collides with his cheek. Hard.
Surprise hits me for a few seconds. I might have heard him groan, “Motherfucker.”
But the few seconds I have, I use them to get away from him, out of the library, down the stairs and outside one of the doors that lead to the patio.
The rain conspires against me, just like how the universe has always done.
My heart aches, my bare feet are cold as I step around the glass, frankly all of me is cold but I still look around.
“W-where is it?”
I cry.
My hair sticks to both sides of my face.
The grass only camouflages my phone the more.
I can’t find it. I can’t find it at all.
To make matters worse, Christian’s voice growls louder than the thunder behind me.
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
I swivel around.
Christian is standing in front of me getting drenched in the rain too.
Yet the blood dripping from his nose catches my attention. I did that? I hurt him?
He walks to me.
I lift my hand to touch his cheek only for his hand, punishing and with intent to maim on the spot wraps itself against my neck.
“Christian? Ch—chri-christi…”
He can’t hear me.
I know.
I know he hurts people when he’s hurt. I know because I helped him get through that.
His hand squeezes my neck. Hard. Harder.
My eyes water. My nostrils burn trying to get as much air as I can.
Rain pours heavily between us as my vision turns blurry.
“Chri-”
It’s me. Your distraction. It’s me.
He’s not going to hurt me.
Christian would never hurt me intentionally.
“Alessandra!”
I hear Yan’s voice somewhere in the night.
‘Don’t hurt him, Yan. Please don’t hurt him. He’s not going to hurt me. Christian’s not going to hurt me.’
If he’s not going to hurt me, why do my eyes burn, why does my neck feel like it’s getting snapped into two, why is he not letting go and more importantly why do I give in to the darkness?