Chapter 11

Eleven

Elena – One Week Later

I grin as Michaela comes up to the board to complete the math question. Four of my students have failed to get it correct, and she’s their last hope.

“Come on, Kayla, show them how it’s done; give us the extra ten minutes of recess,” Pheobe, her best friend, says, making the class giggle and encourage her, and my grin goes wider.

“Okay…” she mumbles, her dark brows furrowing at the equation as she pushes her glasses up. To herself, she mutters, “All right, 7936 × 76….”

I watch with pride as she breaks down the equation like I’ve taught her. It takes her roughly five minutes before she writes 603,136 in the answer box, then looks at me apprehensively. The class is quiet.

Michaela is my math genius, and part of the Mathletes, so I purposely asked her to come up. It’s rather nice outside, and the students deserve a little bit of sun time.

I bite my lip, trying not to smile as I look at the clock. Then I look around the room, all the eyes on me, full of hope.

A grin spreads on my face as I state, “Your extra ten minutes start now. Mr. Williams is waiting outside for you all.” The class cheers, chairs scraping on the floor as they run outside, and I look at Michaela. “Well done, Kayla. You broke the sum down perfectly, and Mr. Williams has a special treat for you.”

She grins wide before rushing after her classmates, and I chuckle, knowing her face will be covered in chocolate when she returns.

Shaking my head, I wipe the board before grabbing my notes with a smile, and limping back over to the board, writing down the poem they have to analyze this afternoon.

School is my safe place.

It’s the only place where I can feel like I can forget about home life, forget about the fact I’m pregnant after trying for four years to ensure it didn’t happen, forget about the trauma my mother put me through trying to ensure I didn’t turn out like Liliya while giving her everything; forget about the fact my father sold me because he’d had enough of paying for my sisters mistakes, putting me on the chopping block instead, and forget about the fact my husband wants his original choice of bride.

It’s the only place where Romeo doesn’t pop up like an unwanted weed during the day, allowing me to breathe, even though he fought me on coming back to work.

Does my shoulder hurt? Not really, but my thigh, yeah, that burns like a bitch, especially because I won’t take pain relief, but I can’t stay at home, I just can’t. My mind goes haywire, and I start to wonder if he’s moving her in yet….

I gently rub my belly. I may not have wanted the baby, but I won’t endanger it; it’s innocent in all this.

I need to do what I have to, so it doesn’t have my sister as a stepmother.

Easier said than done, though….

I sigh, putting all my weight on my right leg, my left throbbing badly, before I continue to write “Autumn” by Emily Dickenson on the board.

Hopefully, my students won’t be too hyped up from their extra recess time….

I’ve just finished writing on the board when my classroom door bangs open, making me jump back on my bad leg. I wince before glaring at the door, ready to snap at the person out of reflex, only to see my sister in. Holy…. She’s wearing sweats. My sister is wearing sweats.

“Elena!” She cries, tears falling down her cheeks.

I raise a brow. “Are you seriously showing up at my work, where I teach ten-year-olds, crying? And what in the hell are you wearing?”

She flinches, looks down, and then looks around the room, before clearing her throat and rasping, “Maxim is now Pakhan,” like she’s not in a school full of children, and slammed into the room without caring if they were in here.

Wait, did she just…? I look over her again; there’re bags under her eyes, and her nails are all chipped. Ah, that explains it, she wants money, although Maxim taking over is the best news I’ve heard in weeks.

I smile instantly and admit without care, “That’s awesome; he’ll make a great Pakhan, especially with Valerie by his side.”

Liliya scowls at me. “The fucker cut me off!”

I scowl back. “You are in a school, Liliya. Watch your language or get out!” She narrows her eyes, and I continue, “Maybe it’s time you allowed Papa to give you an arranged marriage, or maybe, just maybe, get a job!”

She takes a menacing step toward me and sneers, “I would have been married to a Don already if it wasn’t for you!”

I snort. “Really, so you slept with the Cartel leader and got knocked up because of me?” She curls her lip. “So when you screwed a seventeen-year-old barista on the day you were supposed to meet your future husband, after making him wait for you for two hours, was my fault?” I sneer at her, “I didn’t even want to go that day, but Mama forced me, and you know exactly how because you filmed it. Now, if you’re looking for sympathy for your actions, then you’re not getting it here, so leave before the kids come back from recess.”

She growls, “It doesn’t matter how I got here. Maxim has cut me off, and you’re hanging onto the man who wants me!”

I shake my head. “I’m not hanging onto the man who wants you, Liliya, I’m bound to him because of your actions.”

She scoffs, “Really, then why haven’t you had his kid yet so you can divorce, huh? I’m not stupid, Elena, Mama had us both tested for fertility before my first pregnancy, remember? And Romeo would always wear a condom with me because he was unsafe with you!” She gets a lustful look on her face before murmuring, “God, I miss licking his scar on his thigh….”

I try not to flinch at her words as my patience runs thin, the urge to hit her pulls me, and I snap, “I haven’t had his kid, Liliya, because I don’t want a child in a loveless marriage.” She sneers, but I continue, “Five years, Liliya, that’s how long I was given to have his heir, if I didn’t, I would lose my career, and he would lose me!” Her eyes widen in shock, her mouth opening a little, seemingly not knowing that part of the contract. “Four months, Liliya, that’s how long you had to wait, but instead you caused crap, you screwed around with Renata even knowing how crazy she is.” I scoff, shake my head, and limp to my bag. I root through it and grab my purse, before finding what I need.

With much force, I limp over to Liliya and slam the card into her chest. I state, “As soon as this contract is over, I’m gone, one way or another.” I move my hand out of the way. She catches the card, looking at it confused, and I continue, “That card is unlimited and has never been used. It’s Romeo’s. Enjoy, sestra .”

Nothing but hate consumes me as she slowly grins, and turns without another word toward me, leaving.

“Why couldn’t I have been born into a family that loved me?” I mutter under my breath, angry tears wanting to fall, my eyes on the empty door.

It’s pathetic how much my heart wants a man who doesn’t want me, and it's even more pathetic knowing Liliya doesn’t want him for who he is; she wants him for his title and his money.

She wants a free ride.

She doesn’t care how when he smirks, a dimple shows on his left cheek, or how two little lines appear at the bridge of his nose when he’s concerned. She doesn’t care that he hates eggs but will eat avocado on toast with a fried one on the side.

She doesn’t care that he prefers the right side of the bed, closet to the door, and loves to spoon, she doesn’t care that he likes to have his coffee made black, one sugar, or that he likes to walk around on bare feet, wearing just a pair of checkered pajama pants.

She doesn’t care…but I do, yet he wants her, breaking my heart daily.

He made me fall for him, and I’ll never forgive myself for giving in, for not fighting harder to run, and now I have to live with this pain day in and day out.

The sooner I figure out a way to leave, the better….

The rest of my day goes smoothly, and I even manage to dodge Damian Allens, the 4th-grade teacher, who seems to always be around and ignores my wedding ring.

The man spends more time looking at my breasts than he does teaching, like the slimeball he’s trying to pretend not to be.

I close my computer and grab my bag, looking around the room once to ensure I haven’t missed anything, and each desk has a piece of paper and the correct supplies for our pop quiz tomorrow, when my classroom door opens. I wince, thinking it’s Damian.

Looking toward the door, I instantly wish it was, which says a lot.

“I thought you had to work late tonight?” I mutter as I stand, placing my bag over my shoulder and hobble over to the board, pulling down the scroll.

Rome smirks. “I did, especially with us away for a few days after tomorrow, but the bank called….” I raise a brow at him. “Apparently, someone tried to buy a Bentley, the Flying Spur, to be exact. They blocked the transaction and called, and imagine my surprise when they told me it was used by my wife’s card, and yet my wife was in class.” He raises a brow at me, “Care to explain, farfalla ?”

I shrug without a care, though I want to laugh.

That’s what she chose to buy?

I clear my throat, hoping the chuckle doesn’t come out and ask, “What’s there to explain? I only gave her what she will have soon anyway.”

His beautiful blue eyes darken, and he takes a few steps toward me, getting in my face. But I don’t back down because, well, I know he won’t hurt me. Even when he brings his hand up, I don’t flinch.

His eyes soften a little as he gently cups my cheek, his warmth sending tingles throughout my body, making me silently curse the traitorous bitch.

“That card has always and will always be yours. I hate that you haven’t used it, that you’ll make yourself suffer without it. You’re my wife, Elena; what’s mine is yours,” he murmurs, his eyes racing between mine.

“It’s not mine, Rome; it’s hers, just like you are.” I take a step back, causing his hand to drop, and I whisper, “If you weren’t hers, then you would have never protected her while I got shot, contract or not. If you were mine, I would have been your first thought, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t even an afterthought. Instead, I woke in the hospital to your brother.” I show him my sadness as his jaw ticks. I rasp, “My last memory of that day was you revealing your affair to everyone in my family, and yet, if a man shows me just the littlest bit of interest, you go caveman.”

Romeo fists his hands, and I sigh before limping past him, only for him to grab my arm with a gentle touch, pulling me into his body, his mouth going to my ear.

He whispers, “Never have I ever fucked your sister, Elena.” He kisses behind my ear. “I haven’t touched another woman since seeing you that first time in the dingy café.”

Tears blind me; I want to believe him but know I can’t.

I don’t look at him as I say, “If that’s so, Rome, then how does she know about your piercing? How does she know you have a scar on your inner right thigh?”

Romeo freezes, confirming my suspicions, and I nod while removing his hand.

Without a word, I limp toward the exit, my husband following a few minutes later, his arm instantly going around my waist to help me down the steps as we walk out the entrance. I don’t stop him, noticing quite a few faculty members still around, not wanting to be part of the rumor mill, and allow Romeo to guide me to his car.

He doesn’t say anything, and I don’t mind.

What’s there to say, though? He’s confirmed his affair, and now I need to deal with the heartbreak before my child is born. I know all hell will break loose once I leave, but I don’t care. I won’t have my unborn child be a pawn for more money, more power. I just won’t.