Page 52 of Gamble with Me
"What about your lady?" Malin asked, filling our glasses with expensive alcohol, and an exasperated sigh left my mouth. I forgot about the recent events with my woman, but everything returned with full force when he mentioned it.
"Not sure right now," I admitted, plopping on the couch. "Let's focus on the things we can influence."
"Did something bad happen?" Dorian cast me a concerned glance, and Malin frowned.
"She returned to Chester," I disclosed, watching them exchange brief looks.
"Why would she do that?" Dorian mumbled, and Malin shrugged, but they didn't say more, and I was extremely grateful for it.
They left to start working on their tasks, and I stayed in my brother's apartment, looking at the waking city beneath me. The heaviness in my chest lessened, yet I knew the hard days were ahead of us.
I had buried the monster capable of outrageous things deep into my soul to live like an outstanding citizen and an honorable businessman. I hoped I would never have to return to who I was, but it was necessary.
The weak didn't survive in this life, and thankfully, I was made of stone. I would lead my family out of this mess. There was no doubt about it. If it were only Valentino or the entire Italian mafia against me, I didn't care. They would all burn in hell.
-25-
Valeria
Chester supervised my every step like an eagle. He was already up when I woke up Zara. He prepared breakfast, and he insisted on both of us driving her to school.
I dreaded staying with him alone, but I had no choice. We got into the car, and he acted like we were a perfect family. But he couldn't fool anyone. Zara was quiet the entire time, and I couldn't even look at him. The hatred toward him grew with every passing second. I wanted to claw his eyes out and watch him bleed on the sidewalk like an animal.
I didn't understand those intense feelings that possessed me, but they were justified. Chester made me helpless. He took away my freedom, and I wished to find the strength to fight and destroy him.
Two days passed without change, and I turned into a nervous, edgy mess. Chester didn't attack me, nor did he provoke an argument. He acted like nothing happened and we were okay. But I expected a strike whenever he walked around me or called my name. I couldn't find peace. He deeply traumatized me, and I only thought about the ways to flee from him.
And to top it all off, my stalker disappeared. He didn't text me. He didn't stand under my balcony or on the street. He didn't visit me at night when Chester left for a few hours.
My last words to Zefarin glared at me from my phone's screen, making me more anxious than my singing husband in the kitchen. I believed him when he wrote that I was his life and his heart and that he would fight for us. Yet his silence proved otherwise.
But what did I expect? I pushed him away, claiming I returned to my husband. He didn't have any reason to stick around the married woman. Maybe if I told him Chester threatened me, we could devise a plan to escape. Still, Zefarin didn't need any of this. He could find a single girl without any baggage or husband to deal with. He left me, and I couldn't blame him. I only wished we said a proper goodbye.
Preparing for work, my mind swirled with memories of the time with Zefarin, so I didn't notice Chester watching me. Only when he rose behind me and pulled me against his body did I gasp in surprise, and my insides twisted with fear.
"Who did you dress up for?" he asked in a hostile voice, squeezing me tightly. It was uncomfortable, but the more I wriggled, the tighter his hold was.
"No one," I replied, trying to get rid of his violent hands. “I'm going to work."
"To Zyon," Chester barked, letting go of me. I instantly aimed for the door, almost running from his reach, but he followed me into the hall. He blocked the front door with his tall frame, checking me from head to toe. I squirmed under his scrutinizing gaze, wanting nothing else but to get out.
"If I find out you're sleeping with him," Chester rumbled, making me cringe, "I'll make sure you never see your daughter again." He pushed me into the wall behind me, caging me with his arms and body. "Don't force me to do things I don't want to do. Okay?"
"Okay," I breathed, hopeless tears welling in my eyes.
"Behave, Valeria," he warned, his disgusting expression almost making me gag. He handed me my car keys and opened the door for me, but before he allowed me to leave, he leaned closer and pecked my lips. It was highly unexpected and, in my eyes, totally inappropriate.
I ran from the apartment building as quickly as possible. Shutting my car door, I gripped onto the steering wheel, staring up front. My vision was blurry, and my entire body trembled. A scream full of misery clawed at my throat, desperate to get out. Deep sobs flew from my mouth, and I had to push my fist inside to silence them.
The breakdown took only a moment, but it exhausted me as if I had cried for over an hour. I sat in the driver's seat, drained of strength to continue with this life.
Chester's threat again disarmed me, and all I could think about was Zara. She was often with her grandmother, and I believed Lisa, but Chester made it perfectly clear he didn't respect his mother. He forcefully took his daughter from her, waving a knife at her face when she objected to his actions.
Lisa only admitted that it happened when I pushed, claiming that Zara told me everything. My little girl cried a waterfall of tears while talking to me. She was petrified of her father, and I didn't know how to stop him.
I flirted with the thought of asking Zyon for help, yet Chester's words discouraged me. He didn't consider Zyon a problem. His confidence made me wonder who had his back.
Because Chester wasn't powerful. He had friends who would give him money or cover his ass, but they were mostly his former colleagues from the Wall Street. We didn't attend parties with politicians, and we didn't dine with CEOs of major corporations. Those people belonged to Zyon's circle. So, the only explanation was that Chester signed his soul away to the devil. But who could possibly be more influential than the Zhumagulov brothers?
