Page 36 of Between Power and Passion

"Dmitri," she whispers softly, breaking the silence. "How was it at the factory?"

I tense at her question, the memories surfacing like ghosts. I take a deep breath, needing to anchor myself before I can speak. "I’ll tell you," I say slowly, "but you have to promise not to cry."

She nods, her eyes searching mine with an intensity that almost makes me believe she can keep that promise. "I won’t cry," she vows.

I swallow hard, the words heavy on my tongue. "It was gruesome," I begin, my voice barely above a whisper. "They starved us for days. The longest I ever went was fourteen days without food, and I still had to work."

Her fingers stop their gentle tracing, her eyes locked onto mine. "How did you survive?" she asks, her voice trembling despite her promise not to cry.

"I wanted revenge too much to care about how they damaged my physical body. I think I only survived because of that."

"I can't imagine what you went through," she says softly.

"There were moments," I continue, "when I thought I'd never make it out alive. I believed I would die there but Alexei was... different. Even in that hellhole, he managed to find some light. He'd crack jokes, and he made light of everything. It was almost annoying at times." A small smile tugs at my lips as I remember his antics. "But honestly, I think it was his optimism that kept us going."

Valentina's fingers resume their gentle tracing. "He sounds like an incredible person."

"He is," I agree, my voice firm. "He's more than a friend—he's like a brother to me."

"I can't believe my father did this to you," she murmurs.

"Hey," I say gently, cupping her face in my hands. "You are not your father. You had no part in what happened to me or my family."

"But still," she insists. "I feel responsible somehow."

"You are not responsible for his actions," I repeat firmly.

She opens her mouth to protest but closes it again when she sees the look in my eyes. Instead, she leans in closer, her presence a balm to my frayed nerves.

I take another deep breath, trying to steady myself. "When I saw you in that man’s arms as a hostage," I continue, my voice breaking slightly, "I felt all the blood drain from my body. It was like reliving what happened ten years ago."

Her grip tightens around me, her face buried in the crook of my neck. "Dmitri..." she breathes out softly.

"I’m not sure I’m ready yet," I admit, my voice raw with honesty. "But I promise to keep you safe. I will do anything for you."

She pulls back to look at me, her eyes glistening but determined not to spill any tears. "I love you," she says firmly.

I press a gentle kiss to her forehead and hold her close again, feeling the steady beat of her heart against mine. We lie there in silence, letting the shared warmth and presence be enough for now.

Chapter 17 – Valentina

I wake up to the sound of Dmitri's voice and the sunshine on my face. I turn away from the offending light; I just want to sleep a little bit more. Is that too much to ask for? I'm extremely tired, but my bladder is full, and Dmitri moves around the room as he speaks to someone in Russian. I want to roll my eyes but instead roll onto my back and sit up in bed. I don't have to look to know that my hair is a mess. I brush it out of my eyes and look around the room for my nightgown.

Dmitri steps out of the closet wearing nothing but dark gray sweatpants low on his hips. His chest is bare in all its glory for me to see.

I want to cry.

I'm so tired from last night, and all I can think of is having him again, even though I know my body can't take it. He grows quiet as he looks at me. His eyes roam over my face and travel slowly down to my breasts. I hadn't even noticed that the sheet had slid down. Had I even been holding it close to my body? Normally, I would blush, but I'm too tired to do so. However, my nipples do harden at his assessment. He clears his throat.

"Good morning, Valentina," he finally speaks to me.

"Good morning, Dmitri," I reply back.

I think I notice a smile but quickly shrug it off. He walks over to the bed, bends down for my nightgown, and places it on my lap. He leans forward to place a quick kiss on my lips. I wish for him to linger, but I know that it wouldn't do me any good. He turns away from me to continue his conversation on the phone. I pull my nightgown over my head and back on my body. I'm proud that I can understand a little of his conversation, but instead of eavesdropping, I choose to go relieve myself.

I slide off the bed and walk to the bathroom on wobbly legs. What did he do to me last night? I sigh, knowing very well what he did. I practically begged him to. He's the reason I need so much sleep. I sigh as the pressure on my bladder disappears. I smile in happy relief. I can't help but let my mind wander as I wash my hands.

Last night was different. Besides my crying like a fool, there's something different about him. My head spins as I brush my teeth because as I watch him pace around and speak rapidly on the phone, nothing seems different. Not even a hair out of place.

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