Selina
His touch made me want to tear off my skin, despite the dress covering me. I tried once again to move away from his hand at the small of my back, but it was futile. I exhaled slowly, feeling Nikolai Ivanov's gaze burning into my back. He had seen the marks; he shouldn't have. What if he told Antonio? A shiver ran through me, and I gripped my son's hand tighter.
The heavy gaze wouldn't let go, and if Antonio noticed, he would kill me. I wanted to grab my heel and throw it at that damn Russian's face—what was his problem?
Antonio's arm wrapped around my waist like a serpent, and as I looked up at him, he lowered himself slowly.
"You'll need to take a trip to the restroom, mia cara, touch up your makeup," he whispered in my ear. He stepped back, smiling, gently pushing me towards the exit. My eyes glanced at my son, already looking at me with concern as I moved away.
"Don't worry, mia cara, I'll keep an eye on our son," Antonio said cheerfully.
Tears welled up, anger burning within me. He knew I would never escape without my son. He used him like a leash around my neck, keeping me at his feet. My helplessness choked me; I wanted to scream, to hit him, to be heard, to be seen for who I was, to get help. But I did nothing, just nodded, giving a final glance to my son who pleaded with his eyes. I smiled gently at him and headed towards the hall, legs trembling.
I entered the restroom, smiled at a little girl leaving, and waited a few seconds to ensure I was alone. Trembling, I placed my bag next to the sink and looked at my reflection, grimacing at a mark becoming visible on my neck. I opened my bag , took out my foundation, and began to apply it.
I didn't even feel it escape from my lips—a sob, my whole body trembled. I felt my cheeks moisten, but I continued to cover the marks that would never disappear. I put down the brush, grabbed a tissue, and angrily wiped away my tears, ignoring the physical pain. I had long learned to ignore that pain, accepting to surrender my pride and honor with each blow I received. My only reason to live was now my son, who was currently alone with our tormentor. I seized the brush again and started applying it to my face, thinking of joining my baby soon.
I eventually finished redoing my makeup, calming down gradually. I cast a last glance at my reflection, ensuring no marks were visible, grabbed my bag, straightened my shoulders, and left the room. I walked down the corridor to the hall with stiff and rapid steps when something collided with me full force. I let out a cry and found myself on the floor, a mass on my knees.
I looked down and found myself face to face with a little boy with teary eyes, a red nose, trembling lips, and shoulders shaking with sobs. He suddenly buried his face against my belly, wrapping his arms around me. I froze, not knowing what to do as he continued to cry against me. I looked around but didn't see his mother—or anyone else; we were alone.
I placed my hand on his back, gently stroking it, then ran my fingers through his hair—shorter than my son's, who had slightly longer, curly hair. Then my hand slid to his neck to hug him gently. It'll be okay.
He raised his tear-stained face, sniffling softly, and his eyes met mine again. I smiled at him and wiped his tears as I had done with mine just a few seconds ago.
"Hi," I said.
"Hi," he replied in a small voice, making me laugh.
"Do you think we can stand up?" I asked.
He looked at me for a few more seconds behind his tears and finally nodded. I helped him to his feet, doing the same while grumbling. He kept his head down, shoulders slumped, and wiped his nose on his sleeve, making me smile again.
"Wait, here, take this," I said, offering a tissue that I pulled from my bag.
He took it with a hesitant hand and blew his nose. I ran my fingers through his hair to tidy it up while he gradually calmed down.
"Did you hurt yourself? Is that why you're crying?" I asked gently.
He shook his head slowly, sniffling again. I frowned, quickly analyzing him but didn't see anything alarming.
"It's Mom..." he sobbed.
"Oh, did you lose your mom? Don't worry, we'll find her. Come," I said, reaching out my hand.
But he shook his head again, still holding my hand.
"Dad said Mom left, that she wouldn't come back, but she watches us from where she is."
I froze, eyes wide, understanding what he meant—or rather, what he couldn't say or comprehend. I bit my lip, squeezing his hand, trying to comfort him, and to my surprise, he squeezed back, nestling against my legs like my son did. I returned his embrace, rubbing his back.
"Your dad is right, my angel. No matter where she is, a mom always watches over her child," I reassured him.
"Really?" he asked, looking up with hopeful blue eyes.
I pushed his hair off his forehead, smiling, and nodded.
"Of course, moms never abandon their children. I'm a mom too; our duty is to protect our children."
My eyes began to moisten at my own words—protecting children, huh? I failed at the very foundation of my motherly duty. What kind of mother was I?
"Really? Are you a mom?" the little one exclaimed, his eyes shining with hope.
I nodded, but with concern at his growing excitement.
"Would you be my mom too?" he asked enthusiastically.
I looked at him with my mouth slightly open, surprised, feeling what remained of my heart shatter. A little boy barely older than my son was asking me to be his mom when we didn't even know each other's names.
"What? Me?" I exclaimed perplexed.
He nodded vigorously, tightening his grip on my hand. I tilted my head, biting my lip, various emotions and thoughts crossing my mind. I searched for the right words to explain to him that his request was impossible when a deep voice startled both of us.
"Andrei!" a dark voice shouted.
I looked up at the handsome Russian whose name escaped me. Our eyes met, and he frowned upon seeing me embracing the little boy named Andrei. The child turned to him and ran in his direction, his sobs and tears already forgotten.
"папа! папа! папа!" he cried, jumping into the arms of the man who caught him effortlessly, lifting him easily. I watched his broad arms hug the little body, inhaling his hair with closed eyes. And my thoughts immediately went to my son. He would never have a father who would hold him like this man, with concern in his eyes and love in his gestures. He would never have a man to look up to as he grew up.
I tensed as the child jumped from his father's arms and ran towards me, dragging his father behind him.
"папа, look, I found a mommy!" he exclaimed, grabbing my hand.
I looked at him, and he returned a hopeful gaze that tightened my chest. I lifted my eyes to the man, feeling uneasy, and what little air I had left left my lungs when I saw that his thoughtful gaze was already fixed on me. He took a few more steps in my direction, so I tried to step back, but my legs refused to obey, as if my feet were anchored to the ground. He continued to advance until our bodies were only separated by his son. I lowered my head as a dark fear began to surface, preparing for the worst. What if he hit me for approaching his son? What if he thought I was the one putting the idea of a mom in his son's head? What if he told Antonio?
I flinched and closed my eyes tightly when he raised his hand, waiting for the blow, waiting for the familiar pain, waiting for a scream, mine or his—I didn't know. But nothing happened for long seconds. Nothing but a light touch under my chin that made me shiver. He pressed gently, and I raised my head, eyes still firmly closed.
"Look at me," he whispered against my face, his pleasant scent invading all my senses—sea and pine, things I hadn't seen and smelled for a long time.
I slowly opened my eyes, and my gaze met icy blue eyes. When I first saw him in the reception hall, they reminded me of icebergs—cold and calculating. But now, as he stared at me with that profound look, they reminded me of a clear summer sky, warm and gentle.
"I... I saw him crying, I just wanted to help him," I murmured hesitantly, feeling my lips trembling as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.
His hand left my chin, slid along my arm, and eventually grabbed my free hand, lifting it between us. His blue eyes analyzed my hand, and I groaned when he lightly squeezed my wrist. I tried to pull it away, but he held it firmly, giving me a warning look that didn't frighten me as much as I would have thought. Still, I stopped resisting.
He pulled up my sleeve, and his fingers palpated the bruised marks, making me shudder. I felt my cheeks heat as he observed me behind his lashes while Andrei snuggled against me.
"Did your husband do this to you?" he asked in a low voice, his eyes now cold icebergs again.
"He's not my husband," I almost spat with hatred and froze, surprised by my sudden reaction. I bit my lip, avoiding the Russian's gaze.
"How..."
"Mama!" my son's voice suddenly cried out.
I lifted my head, and my blood froze at the sight of Antonio at the end of the corridor, staring at us with a wild look. He let Rafael, who couldn't stop moving, slide down from his arms. I quickly pulled my wrist away and stepped back, my back against the wall, my breathing accelerating as my son threw himself into my arms. I took him in my arms, lifting him and groaning at the pain in my back, but he buried his face in my neck, rubbing his nose behind my ear. I love you. I hugged him back, kissing his hair, swaying gently.
"Mr. Ivanov, is there a problem?" Antonio asked calmly, making me want to burst into tears. This wasn't good.
"I found a mommy!" Andrei exclaimed again, making me grimace, the fear seizing me so viscerally that my limbs were slowly growing numb.
"What? No? This is my mommy!" Rafael shouted, leaning towards Andrei.
I let out a small cry as I felt him slip out of my grip, dragging me forward. But a long arm wrapped around my waist as a second one lifted Rafael higher. I looked up and found myself again under a summer sky, warming me, my tremors gradually ceasing, and I calmed against the warmth of the man who held us, my son and me.
"Selina!" I jolted, the warmth disappearing, the summer sky disappearing. The cold seized all my limbs again as I stepped back from the Russian's grip.
"Come here," Antonio ordered, shoving his fists into his pockets.
I turned to my son, still perched in the Russian's arms, whom I dared not look at, stretched my arms towards my baby, who snuggled without waiting. I tried to step back, but Ivanov's arm didn't release my son. I froze, pleading with my eyes for him to let him go. After a few seconds of silence, he finally let go.
I stepped back and turned around to walk towards Antonio, but the little boy clung to my dress.
"No! Mommy! Don't go!" Andrei cried, sobbing.
I closed my eyes, exhaling slowly, a tear escaping at the sound of the boy's desperate whimpers.
"Andrei, that's enough, come here," Ivanov said from behind me, not doing anything to stop his son.
"Selina, hurry up, the guests are waiting," Antonio said, taking a few steps in our direction.
I used all my willpower not to step back as Rafael hugged me tighter. Ivanov finally decided to grab his son despite his protests, lifting him into his arms. I moved slowly toward Antonio, and before I could say anything, his hand wrapped tightly around my forearm.
"Have a good evening, Mr. Ivanov," he always said calmly, dragging me behind him.
I dared not look back despite the burning gaze that never left me; my heels echoed on the marble as I struggled to match Antonio's swift pace. My stomach tightened as he headed towards the elevators instead of the reception hall. A sob escaped me when he threw me into the elevator, my back colliding violently with the wall.
Rafael began crying against me, and I comforted him while trying to adapt to Antonio's rapid movements.
It will be okay. It has to be okay, for my son, to protect him.
The elevator ascended to the top floor; Antonio paced back and forth like a caged lion. Trembling, I reassured my son, and the ding announcing our arrival echoed like a gunshot, making me jump.
He grabbed me by the nape of my neck, dragging me down a corridor adorned with gold and silver. He unlocked a door, shoved me inside, and slammed the door behind us. We found ourselves in a large suite with various rooms. My heart raced as nausea overcame me, but I sniffled softly to avoid alarming Rafael.
"Rafael, leave us alone, go into a room and close the door," Antonio ordered, tearing him from my arms.
My little one vehemently shook his head, clinging to my legs. "No, I want to stay with my mama!"
Antonio's dark gaze fixed on us, jaw clenched, hands in his hair. I crouched next to Rafael, gently smiling despite tears blurring my vision. "Angelo mio, go inside and wait for me, okay?"
He nodded, hugging me, his nose rubbing behind my ear, I love you. I whimpered, crying now, as he did this every time we faced such a situation, uncertain if we'd see each other again.
"I love you too, angelo mio," I whispered, holding him close. "Enough, Rafael! Now!" Antonio shouted.
I separated from my baby, guiding him gently into one of the rooms. He cast a final glance with eyes like mine before softly closing the door, sniffling.
Then everything happened so quickly, I screamed as he grabbed my hair, pulling me to my feet. I bit my lip to stifle cries, to keep my son from hearing, to deny the monster any satisfaction.
His nose pressed against my cheek, tightening his grip, making me moan. His second hand wrapped around my throat, squeezing tighter. "Ah, Selina, Selina, Selina, so you flirt with my enemies? In dark corners, behind my back? You dared betray me, my sweet?"
I closed my eyes, shaking my head despite the pain. "I just wanted to help the kid; he was crying. His... his father came later, I swear," I pleaded.
His hand slapped my face so violently I fell to the ground. The pain was so intense, the world blurred. The familiar taste of blood filled my mouth, accentuating my nausea. He lifted me again, one of my heels lost, my dress slipped, leaving a shoulder bare. He gripped my nape, as if about to break it any moment, making me retreat several steps until I was half-sitting on a white leather couch.
He grabbed my jaw, squeezing so hard my teeth sank into my skin. "Dolce mia, do you want to become the mother of another man's child?" he spat.
I tried to speak, but only plaintive moans escaped my trembling lips. I attempted to shake my head, but my body was paralyzed. Tears mixed with blood streamed down my face.
"He touched you; he touched my wife," he shouted against my lips, releasing my neck to grab my left hand. "Is this the hand he held, dolce mia? The hand that belongs to me, that he touched?"
"No, no, please," I whispered, and his eyes gleamed with pleasure at my words.
He nodded slowly, released my jaw, and grabbed my index and middle fingers from my left hand. Our eyes locked as a smile began to stretch across his lips. Before I could say anything else, he twisted my fingers, making me scream. His hand gagged me, stifling my cries, and the pain brought black spots before my eyes. I felt myself fading into darkness, but the same pain brought me back. Antonio let go, leaving me to fall to the floor. I clutched my wrist, crying, groaning, suffering so much.
"Where else did he touch you, mia cara? Your arm?" he asked, coming back.
He was going to break my arm, my arms, my legs, then my face. I closed my eyes, praying, thinking of my baby in the room next door. I jolted when two faint knocks sounded on the door; I looked up to see the monster moving towards the entrance.
I stood on shaky legs, trying to reach the bathroom. I needed to lock myself in, to be safe. I grabbed the handle, crying so hard that the lack of oxygen made my head spin. I opened the door, but before I could enter, he grabbed my hair again, throwing me to the ground. I let out a scream, bringing my arm close, the sound of heels on the cold marble resonating as I lay there. I met Alia's blue eyes as she looked down at me from her luxury heels.
"Seriously, Antonio, how are we going to hide this now?" she asked to her cousin, sounding bored.
I closed my eyes, sobbing, absorbing the humiliating words of the woman, speaking of me as if I were a mere doll to be patched up and made up. How could a woman close her eyes, ignore the harm done to another woman? How was that possible?
"She deserved it! She deserved it, she deserved it, she deserved it," he repeated incessantly, pacing like a madman.
"Enough, Antonio! The guests are looking for you; we need to join them. Come on," Alia said in a soft voice, moving away.
He was leaving, he was going to leave me alone, at least for a few hours. My relief was short-lived when I heard him approaching quickly. He wrapped my hair around his fist, lifting my face from the floor to his level.
'We'll finish what we started when I return, mia dolce. If you want a second child so badly, well, you'll have it,' he said, smiling with dilated pupils.
He released me abruptly, my cheek hitting the marble, making me groan. I lay there on the cold floor, trembling with pain. My fingers hurt so much that breathing and thinking became difficult. The entrance door slammed shut; I heard them discussing behind it, knowing there was a man outside guarding the door.
I struggled to sit up, biting my lip and forgetting it was open. I groaned once more in pain, leaning against the foot of the bed, taking long sighs to compose myself. I had to get up; I needed to immobilize my fingers, to clean myself, to check on my baby who must be terrified. But I couldn't. I couldn't do it anymore. Eight years felt so long, too long.
I rested my head against the mattress, closing my eyes, humming the lullaby I sang to Rafael every night. Tears streamed down my face, wetting the silk sheets. I swayed gently, clutching my hand, praying for any help, someone to assist us, just to get my son out of there, please.
I woke up startled when someone touched my injured fingers. I screamed, and my eyes met green eyes, much lighter than mine.
'Sienna?'
My younger sister, tears streaming down her face, nodded, caressing my hair.
'It's me, Selina, I'm here,' she replied, kissing again and again my intact hand. 'I'm here, mia sorella, I'm here.'
Confused, I tried to understand if it was a dream or hallucination due to pain.
'Am I dreaming?' I asked weakly, blinking.
Sienna sobbed, and more tears ran down her cheeks. 'I'm sorry, Selina, I'm so sorry. It's my fault, all of it.'
She bowed her head against my thighs, and I placed my hand on her back, gently stroking. I was dying, it was a final grace from God before I took my last breath, showing me my little sister and letting me smell the scent of bleach.
Bleach? I lowered my eyes to her and raised my eyebrows, seeing her dressed like a chambermaid. I turned my head to the entrance and gasped, seeing a man lying in the small hall.
'It's not a dream,' I realized, freezing. 'What... Sienna!' I exclaimed, breathless and confused. I tried to grab her head to lift it, forgetting about my hand's condition.
I groaned, clutching my hand to my chest, my head thrown back. My sister abruptly sat up, wide-eyed, attempting to touch my hand, but I shook my head, keeping her away.
'What are you doing here, Sienna? How did you get here?' I asked, eyes darting between her and the entrance, fearing Antonio's return.
'No time, we need to leave!' she exclaimed, standing up suddenly.
'Need to leave ?!' I grumbled, trying to get up, leaning against the bed. Sienna grabbed my arm, helping me stand. 'Rafael!' I call, turning to the room where he had locked himself.
'He's asleep; I checked on him when I arrived,' Sienna reassured me, guiding me to the bathroom. 'We have to go, Selina, but first, we need to do something about your fingers.'
She found a bandage and three pens in the drawers, gently taking my wrist, making me cry out. She sniffled, gently placing pens at each end of my fingers and one in between. I let out a sob, clinging to the marble to avoid falling. My sister reassured me, wrapping the bandage gently around my fingers and the pens, immobilizing them.
Once the bandage was secured, she took cotton and began cleaning my split lip and chin, a quick assessment revealing the damage. I had experienced worse, felt worse. My lower lip was swollen, my right cheek turning purple, and my left cheek, which he had hit on the floor, was in a similar state, not to mention my smeared makeup.
'That will do; we don't have time to waste, wash your face and join me' she said, rushing back to the bedroom.
I obey and followed her with unsteady steps. She pulled out two sports bags that I had only now noticed, revealing a blue jean, a white shirt, a white cardigan, and sneakers. She laid everything on the bed and took out a pair of pants and a light child's sweater from the second bag.
'I don't know if it will fit him; I've only seen him once w... when he was a baby,' she said, slipping behind me and starting to unzip my dress. She helped me take it off, being careful with my fingers, leaving me in my underwear. I felt her pause, her fingertips grazing the marks on my back, making me shiver.
'What are you doing, Sienna? He'll never let us go. Even if we get out of here, he'll find us in no time,' I tried to explain while she buttoned my top. 'And we can't leave, Sienna, you know that. He still has the evidence.'
She quickly buttoned my shirt, then grabbed the jeans, helping me put them on. She gently pushed me onto the bed, pulling out a pair of socks from the sneakers. 'Don't worry; I've planned everything since I found out about this gala.'
I groaned as my fingers throbbed. Sienna finally managed to put on my sneakers, grabbed the elastic on her wrist, and quickly braided my hair before hurrying to my son's room after grabbing the child's clothes on the bed.
'Mamma?' came my angel's weak voice from the room. I stood up and joined them, trying to appear relaxed.
"I'm here, my angel, I'm here," I reassured him as I approached the sofa where he had fallen asleep. He was now dressed simply in his tank top. Sienna tried to put on his sweater, but he dodged, hopping on the armchair. His face lit up when he saw me, but his smile quickly disappeared at the sight of the marks on my face and my fingers wrapped in a bandage.
"Mamma!" he exclaimed, jumping from his perch. I winced as he threw himself against me, touching my injured fingers. "Does it hurt, mamma?"
"No, not at all, my baby, I'm fine," I reassured him, stroking his hair. "Let Aunt Sienna dress you, okay?"
"Aunt Sienna?" he asked, looking up at me with wide eyes.
"Yes, it's me, pulcino mio," Sienna introduced herself, approaching gently. "Do you mind if I dress you? We need to leave."
Rafael nodded eagerly, joined my sister, and let her dress him quickly. Sienna then rushed to the entrance, stepping over Antonio's henchman, whom she had somehow knocked out. She cracked the door open and glanced outside. I grabbed my son's hand and followed my sister hesitantly. Once sure the coast was clear, she opened the door, gesturing for us to follow. I froze at the sight of the cart filled with sheets blocking the door. I looked at my sister, perplexed, as she signaled for us to climb.
"It will never work, Sienna..." I began to protest, but my sister shot me a stern look.
"Shut up and get in, Selina! The cameras will soon start working again. Hurry!" she urged me.
I didn't hesitate any longer. I tried to lift Rafael into it, but Sienna caught him before I could even bend down. I climbed in, lying down with my son in my arms. Sienna covered us with several sheets. I heard her close the bedroom door and start pushing the cart.
I tried to stifle a groan as I felt my fingers pulsate, I sniffled, burying my nose in my baby's hair. I heard the elevator doors open; she pushed the cart inside, and we started descending. The elevator stopped once, and I tensed as I heard one or more people getting in before our descent resumed. Rafael snuggled against me, and I let out a cry when he leaned on my fingers. I pressed my hand against my mouth, muffling my groans.
"Sorry, I bumped my elbow," Sienna said calmly from outside. The elevator stopped again before resuming its descent. "We're almost there," my sister murmured.
We stopped again, and this time Sienna pushed the cart outside. After a few minutes, she stopped and lifted the sheets covering us. "Come on, quickly." She bent down and grabbed Rafael. I climbed out of the cart, glancing around, we were in the hotel's boiler room.
"This way, a car is waiting for us outside," she informed me, heading towards an emergency exit door at the back with my son in her arms. I followed them on shaky legs, the pain in my fingers becoming increasingly unbearable. I sweated profusely, trying to breathe slowly.
Sienna opened the door with her back so that I could pass. A black car was parked just outside the exit, a man sitting behind the wheel. I froze in place when I saw him. "Sienna..." but she had already opened the rear door, securing my son in the seat. She gestured for me to get in too, but I hesitated, looking at the driver. "Don't worry, Selina, I trust him," she reassured me, her eyes pleading.
I finally climbed in beside my son, not without worrying. Sienna took the front passenger seat, and the car pulled onto the road. I looked through the rear window as the hotel gradually disappeared. The weight on my shoulders lifted, but the fear was there, stronger than ever, more visceral than ever. Yet, I buried them. I held my son closer and buried them for him.