Page 135 of Queen’s Gambit

There was no denying it now. We were in it until one of us wasn’t breathing, and no way was it going to be me.

I thought of all the times I was forced to leave Eddie and the multiple times Christov had taken me roughly against my will in the name of getting me pregnant. I thought about how this bitch had set me up to fall down the stairs. If I’d broken my neck, Lilya would’ve been left alone in their grasp. They would’ve sold her off like my father had done to me. No one would ever hurt my daughter.

The anger that I’d buried deep the last few years burst free as we rolled, so I was on top. I let go of her arms, and Alina wrapped her hand around my throat. She might have believed she had the advantage, but I drew my fist back like Vlad had taught me and brought it down as hard as I could to the middle of her face. Blood poured from Alina’s nose as she screamed.

We were making too much noise, and this had to end. I was reaching back for the gun when Alina thrust up with her body and flipped us.

“You bitch, you broke my nose.”

Alina hit me repeatedly, but with my hand on the gun stuck underneath me, I could only block with one arm. I needed her to back off just a few inches.

“You’re such a fool, Alina. Do you really think Christov loves you?”

She paused, the wheels spinning in her brain.

“What the fuck do you mean,” she panted.

“Just what I said. He told me all about your plan to get rid of me next week. In fact, the reason I’m over here right now with you, and he’s nowhere to be seen, is because this was his goal all along. He made you think he loved you. Made you do anything for him, and all the while he was playing you. He always wanted me.”

“No…it’s not true.” She rose a little higher, her eyes widening as her fist remained frozen in the air.

“Think about it. You two could’ve been free, but instead, he brought me back here and told you that my Father would be angry? Did you really buy that crap? What did you think he was doing every time you left to go to the spa for the day? Or the hairdresser? Or to visit your mother? While he gave you money to throw around, he was only doing it to get you out of the house. All the while, he was fucking me, trying to get me pregnant again so we could have our son. That’s what he was doing. All this time we’ve pretended to hate one another, but it was all an act just for you. Do you want to know why?”

“It’s all lies.”

“No, it’s not. He did it because I asked, because I’m a bitch and have loved every second of watching you squirm and twist yourself inside out for a man who would never really marry you. Do you really think he snuck you into my eighteenth birthday party? You poor thing…you really thought so, didn’t you? No, Alina. I gave him the outfit and told him to let you in. He fucked you twice and then we laughed as he told me how terrible you were and how he couldn’t wait to have me.” Her eyes bugged out, and I was suddenly very happy I’d never let Christov know that I’d seen them.

None of that was true. But I knew Alina’s fears. They were written all over her face. From the first day when we’d officially met, and with each passing week, month, and year, those seeds of doubt had only deepened until the roots had turned into a paranoia that was eating her alive.

“No,” Alina gasped and pushed back just enough that I got the gun free and pointed it at her.

I thought there would be hesitation, a last moment of guilt for doing this, but there was none as I stared into her crazy eyes. This was a dog-eat-dog world, and only the strongest survived.

Alina realized her error, but it was too late as I squeezed the trigger. She fell backward off of me, her hands going to her chest, blood soaking her shirt. Pushing myself up, I stared down at her, and our eyes locked.

“As you lay here dying, I want you to know that Christov and I are going to be taking our children out for dinner before coming home to a house that is finally rid of you. Then, I’m going to ride him just the way he likes as I scream his name. That will be our dessert. We may or may not have your body removed by then, or we may simply step over you. Goodbye, Alina.”

It was a vicious thing to say, but I wasn’t exactly feeling my normal loving self. I watched as she gasped for air, her mouth moving but no sound coming out, and then blood trickled from her mouth before she fell still. Her eyes remained open, locked on something that couldn’t be seen, and I could only hope that it was the flames of hell.

Limping away, I made it to the top of the stairs before the adrenaline from the fight began to wear off, and I started to shake. I looked down at the gun in my twitchy hand and noticed drops of blood on my sweater. My fingers came back red after touching the corner of my mouth.

Each step down was excruciating, the pain radiating from my ankle up my leg. Dammit.

I tapped on Christov’s office door to be safe, but there was no response. Cracking it open, I spotted him hunched over his desk, his cheek on the paperwork in front of him. All I had to do was grab the keys to his car. According to Kira, he kept all of them in a box on his desk. Of course, he would.

Sneaking across the office, I wet my parched lips and stared at his back, slowly rising and falling. There was only one box on his desk and I slowly reached for it like I was trying to avoid waking a slumbering predator. Inside were three sets, I grabbed the key to the sedan he always kept parked in the driveway and turned to leave, but spotted a framed picture on his desk. It was of Christov, myself and the two kids, taken the night of the Nutcracker. I remembered all too well being forced to have the picture taken. What I hadn’t been expecting was it framed and on his desk. I suddenly wondered if there was any merrit to Alina’s paranoia, not that I cared. It didn’t change a thing.

Christov suddenly sat up like a jack-in-the-box. I screamed as he grabbed my wrist and dug his fingers in painfully. He jerked me forward, but he was uncoordinated. That was when I realized he’d only drank half of his drink. I yanked back and he lost some ground.

“Let me go, Christov.”

“You think I wouldn’t notice the dizzy feeling,” he asked, his voice slurred. “I knew you were trying to run as soon as I felt the effects of whatever you put in my drink.”

Anchoring my feet, I pulled again. Christov lost his balance, partially sprawling over his desk.

“Just let me leave. You can live your life, and I can live mine.” I pulled harder, but it only helped him to stand. He was wobbly, weaving like he was playing in waves. If he took me down with him, he’d still have the strength advantage.

“No,” he growled. “You’re mine. Your father said I could do whatever I pleased. I was just going to kill you, but now I’m going to kill Lilya instead. She’s not my daughter, never has been. Fucking Edmundo. I knew he was in Spain, I just knew it. I’m going gut the little bitch in front of you and then bleed you slowly while you stare at her corpse. Then I’ll send the video to him to play over and over again.”