Page 73 of Forcibly Sold to the Bratva
“You have my word,” he says again.
I take a deep breath to steady myself and try not to break into tears as I extend a shaking hand. “Give me your phone.”
He hands it to me, and I watch as he doesn’t move away. “I’m going to be right here, listening. Don’t try to let him think otherwise. Say exactly what I said, you understand?”
I nod, my fingers trembling as I dial Ilariy’s number.
“Tikhon? Where the hell is Arina?”
I feel the tears roll down my face now, but Tikhon’s watching, and it takes everything in me to hold back a choked sob. “It’s me.”
“Arina?” He sounds so relieved that it cracks my heart. “Where are you? Tatiana and Katya just came home, and they said you were taken.”
“I’m fine,” I say, forcing steadiness into my voice. “I’m with my brother.”
“Did they hurt you? Tell me where you are, I’m coming to get you. Tatiana told me what Tikhon did. That bastard. How dare he treat you like that? Send me your address.”
“No, please,” I rush as I speak. “I don’t want you to come.”
“What are you talking about? Arina—”
“I went with them willingly,” I cut him off, speaking like a robot. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately and I… I want to be back home, Ilariy.”
“You have a home!” Ilariy argues, hurt, lacing his words.
“I don’t think I belong by your side,” I whisper, tracing his face into memory; for in my heart, I think I might never see him again. This conversation is pure agony, burning in my soul, but Tikhon remains standing, and as long as he does, I must keep acting.
Silence stretches between us for a moment before he asks softly, “What did they do to you?”
“Nothing,” I insist. “This is me talking. The real me, not the confused, traumatized woman you kept in your house. What I felt for you—it wasn’t real. How could it be? You kidnapped me, Ilariy. You took me from my family, and I... I convinced myself it was something more.”
“Liar,” he growls. “I know you, Arina. I know your voice when you’re lying.”
Tikhon steps closer, a warning in his eyes. I swallow hard.
“You don’t know me at all,” I say, each word a shard of glass in my throat. “You never did. I’m a Sokolov. I always will be, and I will not shack up with a Letvin, you hear me? You and I? We’re done, and I don’t want to see you again.”
“Arina, please.” His voice breaks, and the sound shatters what’s left of my heart. “Just come home. We can figure it out together.”
A tear slips down my cheek, and I dash it away with the back of my hand. “There’s nothing to fix,” I say dully. “It’s over, Ilariy. Don’t try to contact me. It’s better this way.”
“I don’t believe you,” he says fiercely. “Don’t do this, Arina. I swear to God, we need to talk—”
“Goodbye, Ilariy,” I whisper, and end the call before he can hear the sob that tears from my throat.
Chapter 21 - Ilariy
She cut the call on me. She actually cut the call on me. I throw the phone across the room in rage while my chest begins to contract, making it hard to breathe.
I feel like a million knives are carving holes into my heart.
I fall to the ground, inch my back up against the wall, and throw my head between my legs to make the dizziness go away.
What the hell just happened?
That wasn’t Arina.
She didn’t sound like herself. She sounded like an entirely different person, one with whom I couldn’t possibly have shared all those memories with. How could she, after caring for me for a week straight with no sleep, say she now knows better?
