Page 45
Story: The Bratva's Captive
“Easy,” I answered myself, pacing again. “I’d be back at the club and Lenny would still be harassing me.”
I was too biased to think too hard on whether I was forgiving Maxim’s actions in terms of the end justifying the means. But I had to remind myself to keep this in perspective. No, I didn’t want to struggle and be under Lenny’s abuse, but I also didn’t want Maxim to control my life and keep me captive.
So long as I didn’t lose sight of my independence, relaxation started to feel like a trick.
It is a trick.
He’s manipulating you.
I knew he was because he never answered me why he chose me and why he was keeping me. On that principle, I refused to lower my guard all the way.
Something wasn’t adding up.
I couldn’t be compromised to think that this peaceful solitude was good.
Being fed and cared for and left alone to just rest was all part of the deception.
He wanted me to be at ease.
But why?
Deep, down in my heart, I knew that I had to be right about avoiding Mafia men.
It wasn’t foolish of me to refuse to be controlled by a man.
But I didn’t know why he picked me to keep.
Why, Maxim? Why do you want to keep me here?
That was all he was doing, too. He kept me here in his room, like a princess locked away out of sight from the world. He didn’t come to sleep with me. He didn’t come to touch me at all. With my stubborn silent treatment, he didn’t come to ask me questions more than to see if I needed or wanted anything, both of which I turned away and refused to acknowledge.
This silent treatment was the only power that I had anymore. Refusing to answer his questions or say anything at all was the only means where I could have control over my life.
The longer I stuck with silence, though, the more it dragged on me aboutwhatI was keeping silent about.
I had yet to tell him that I was pregnant with his baby.
I wasn’t saying anything at all, but holding that fact as a secret felt like such a big boulder obligation.
“How would I tell him?” I muttered aloud, pacing just to stay active. No matter which way I considered this issue, I struggled with figuring out if and when I would ever let him know he would be a father.
If I could get the hell out of here, I could run away and not have to tell him.
His act of kidnapping me didn’t fill me with a lot of hope that he wouldn’t be controlling of our child as well.
Besides, how could I want a killer to be the father of my child?
Despite how comfortable and well taken care of I felt under his captivity, this wasn’t freedom. It wasn’t a fate I would want my child to experience. Even in these early days of pregnancy, I was committed to making sure this son or daughter of mine had a better chance at a good life than I ever had.
How?
I was captive and without options. And every day, I grew more anxious about not telling him about the baby.
Keeping it a secret was the only leverage I had. This baby wasallI had. That and debt.
After two weeks of not going to my apartment, I was certain that it was gone. Regardless of whether it had been raided the night before Maxim kidnapped me, there was nothing there that couldn’t be replaced. New tenants were probably moving in already, all my ruined things tossed to the trash.
My job had to be gone too. I had no clue what happened to Lenny’s body or if anyone had seen what Maxim did, but not showing up for two weeks guaranteed that I no longer had a spot on the stage.
I was too biased to think too hard on whether I was forgiving Maxim’s actions in terms of the end justifying the means. But I had to remind myself to keep this in perspective. No, I didn’t want to struggle and be under Lenny’s abuse, but I also didn’t want Maxim to control my life and keep me captive.
So long as I didn’t lose sight of my independence, relaxation started to feel like a trick.
It is a trick.
He’s manipulating you.
I knew he was because he never answered me why he chose me and why he was keeping me. On that principle, I refused to lower my guard all the way.
Something wasn’t adding up.
I couldn’t be compromised to think that this peaceful solitude was good.
Being fed and cared for and left alone to just rest was all part of the deception.
He wanted me to be at ease.
But why?
Deep, down in my heart, I knew that I had to be right about avoiding Mafia men.
It wasn’t foolish of me to refuse to be controlled by a man.
But I didn’t know why he picked me to keep.
Why, Maxim? Why do you want to keep me here?
That was all he was doing, too. He kept me here in his room, like a princess locked away out of sight from the world. He didn’t come to sleep with me. He didn’t come to touch me at all. With my stubborn silent treatment, he didn’t come to ask me questions more than to see if I needed or wanted anything, both of which I turned away and refused to acknowledge.
This silent treatment was the only power that I had anymore. Refusing to answer his questions or say anything at all was the only means where I could have control over my life.
The longer I stuck with silence, though, the more it dragged on me aboutwhatI was keeping silent about.
I had yet to tell him that I was pregnant with his baby.
I wasn’t saying anything at all, but holding that fact as a secret felt like such a big boulder obligation.
“How would I tell him?” I muttered aloud, pacing just to stay active. No matter which way I considered this issue, I struggled with figuring out if and when I would ever let him know he would be a father.
If I could get the hell out of here, I could run away and not have to tell him.
His act of kidnapping me didn’t fill me with a lot of hope that he wouldn’t be controlling of our child as well.
Besides, how could I want a killer to be the father of my child?
Despite how comfortable and well taken care of I felt under his captivity, this wasn’t freedom. It wasn’t a fate I would want my child to experience. Even in these early days of pregnancy, I was committed to making sure this son or daughter of mine had a better chance at a good life than I ever had.
How?
I was captive and without options. And every day, I grew more anxious about not telling him about the baby.
Keeping it a secret was the only leverage I had. This baby wasallI had. That and debt.
After two weeks of not going to my apartment, I was certain that it was gone. Regardless of whether it had been raided the night before Maxim kidnapped me, there was nothing there that couldn’t be replaced. New tenants were probably moving in already, all my ruined things tossed to the trash.
My job had to be gone too. I had no clue what happened to Lenny’s body or if anyone had seen what Maxim did, but not showing up for two weeks guaranteed that I no longer had a spot on the stage.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104