Chapter Twenty-Three: Sophia

The absence of light and being in the same room with my assailant has me in a permanent state of terror, but this time Andrei’s not here to rescue me. Both my feet and my hands are bound to a wooden chair in a small room I can barely breathe. Sucking in as much oxygen as I can, I try to gather enough clues from the drive to figure out where we might be.

The road was smooth, and I could hear cars. Hanging my head forward, my hair falls in my face, my arms aching from being pinned behind my back in the same position for a long time. Cars. Focus. You heard cars, didn’t you?

Fuck. There’s tracking on my phone. Andrei find me. Use the tracking device, I say to myself in my head, thinking he can hear me. The Bratva are my only hope. Nobody else would even know where to start. My mind starts to wander, drifting into a bad, bad place. You’ve only got yourself, nobody else. Your parents are dead. Maybe you’re set to meet them sooner than you want to.

Sweat begins to drip between my breasts, trickling down my temple as I think about my unborn baby. Please. Please. Please. Don’t hurt my baby.

The only light source is from a tiny glass window behind my head. There’s no other light I can see in the room, but I’m not in the best shape to see everything. The floor is concrete with grease stain patches everywhere, giving me the impression it’s a garage, or was one. The drive to the place didn’t take long, so we aren’t far from Mount Greenwood. Give or take an hour, but time was skewed for me. Every second in this hot sauna of a basement is longer than it should be.

I wasn’t knocked out, only my head covered during the journey. “ Where we’re going is a secret. I’ve taken a couple of people here before,” Chris confessed as I sat tied up in the back of van.

Details, Sophia. I’m good at those. It’s why I had such high marks in law school, but my mind is playing tricks, and I can’t recall the color of the van before they shoved me inside.

He’s brought people here before. Why would he?

Andrei immediately came to mind. He would send someone out to look for me, I was certain of it. That’s the positive thing about the Bratva. It’s a brotherhood. “I’ve always got eyes on you, Sophia.” His threatening phrase irked me at the beginning, but now it’s a source of comfort in dark times.

The click-clack of shoes entering fills me with a sense of doom. Forcing my head upwards, I see it’s Christopher, and what’s worse he’s wearing slacks, a vest, and a collared shirt. He’s sporting a huge grin. If you saw the man on the street, he would present as one of the most unassuming men on the planet. The type to walk old ladies across the street and help them with their groceries.

“ Sophia, Sophia, Sophia. Oh sweetheart, what a bind you’ve got yourself into. Literally. ” He guffaws, scuffing his high-shine polish shoes on the concrete floor.

Bile swirls at the back of my throat, my tongue stuck hard to the roof of my mouth. “Stay back.” My deep hoarse cry comes out more like that of a frog.

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I only want to help. I’m going to give your arms a break and tie your hands to the front. That’s the type of generous-hearted guy I am. I wanted to be that for you in New York, but you missed your chance.” Tensing up, Christopher’s face bears down on mine, his breath landing on my face as he rounds to the back of me, his eyes traversing to my chest. Whimpering in fright, I prepare myself for the worst, but all he does is cackle as he brings my hands to the front.

For a split second, I think about getting loose from him, but the large hunting knife in his hand keeps me locked in place. “You’re not going to get far,” I warn him, thinking about how relentless Andrei is when he wants something, or somebody.

“I’m going all the way, baby. Trust me,” Christopher replies slimily, drawing the tip of the knife around my belly button in a circle. Tremors of fear overtake me, the possibility of passing out very real. I suck in my tummy as much as I can upon seeing the sinister glint in his evil eyes. “Pretty girl, you should have just abided by the conditions I gave you, and you wouldn’t be in this position.”

“No!” I want to scream it, but it only exits in a fainthearted attempt.

“No? Fuck that. No girl, especially not a twenty-two-year-old second-year has ever told me no.” Chris skims a hand through his cropped hair.

Don’t irritate him. Look for an exit.

His ego’s getting the best of him, and I’m repulsed with every word coming out of his mouth, but as my eyes case the corners of darkness, I notice the door behind Chris. We are on the ground floor, but I would need him to leave, and for me to get rid of my bindings. There’s too much involved.

Have faith, Andrei will be here. “Sorry,” I respond, attempting to placate him.

“It’s too late for sorry now,” he scoffs. “Oh, there’s no coming back from what you did. I had to have surgery to sew my tendons back together because of your stupid husband,” he replies angrily, raising his hand.

Serves you right. “Sorry.”

“Shut up!” he barks. “Your sorries are piss weak. You could have had it all, Sophia. You could have worked your way up to partner in my law firm, making a shitload of money.” He sighs, giving me a sign he’s calming down, but it’s highly unlikely. “You could have been reaching the pinnacle of success, but oh no,” he snarls in my face, globs of his saliva dotting my cheeks he’s so close.

“Stop!” I croak. “Don’t hurt me.”

“No.” He places the blade of the knife under my chin, my pulse jumping through the roof as I feel the sharpness of the tip. “All the other ones did. Maybe your friend Ava will be more giving. Thanks for the recommendation.” I say nothing, but I want to tell him Ava already knows he’s a pig.

Slowly he takes the knife down from my chin dragging it down to my belly where I have a slight bump. Closing my eyes, I can’t see if he’s going to cut me. I don’t want to see, and the lack of light isn’t helping. “You’ve got a sweet cub inside the womb. Oh, how nice. So, you could fuck him, but not me?” Christopher says, leaning in.

“You’re supposed to uphold the law,” I declare bravely, even knowing I shouldn’t.

“Huh! Don’t talk to me about upholding the law. You don’t even know the system and how the game is played, Sophia. I would have shown you the ropes, and how to win. But no.” He steps back, waving his knife and appearing delirious. “You picked a mobster. Well, guess what? Bruno’s one too, and you’re little Russian Bratva men are going down!”

“Please. You don’t have to do this.” Sobbing, tears fall onto the grease stains draining away.

“Oh yeah, I do. I wonder what Mr. Utkin will do when I kill your unborn child.” I hear the laughter of a second person, Bruno, walking in to stand beside Christopher.

“Let’s shed a little light on the subject, shall we?” There’s a light I didn’t see that’s now turned on as Bruno flips a switch. I figure while he’s here, I should find out what his involvement is and stall them both in the process.

“Can I have—can I have some water?” I choke out, my tongue feeling like sandpaper. Bruno analyzes me, coming closer.

“Parched huh?” He grunts. “You and that baby are going to be more then parched by the time we’re done with you.” I’m growing so tired, and running out of strength, but I’m determined to keep them talking for as long as I can.

Use the skills, Dr. Perri taught you. Digging deep, I wriggle a little, my wrists itching and sore from the rope. “I think we can get her some water. It’s probably the last one she’s going to drink anyway,” Chris says, laughing.

“Yeah, let’s get Mrs. Utkin a little water,” Bruno joins in, careful with his speech, his face reminding me of a smushed-up bulldog.

I don’t care what they say about me. Staying alive and stalling them is my objective. “How are you involved?” I ask Bruno.

“I’ve come to relieve him of his Bratva duties.” His belly jiggles as he laughs and Chris returns with a glass of water. I think twice about having asked him, staring into it for signs he’s spiked it.

Gulping down the liquid, I let it quench my thirst. My next inclination is to try my luck, pitching it at Christopher’s head, but he’s already thought about that, grabbing the glass out of my hands. “Don’t even think about it.”

“What do mean you’ve come to relieve him of his Bratva duties,” I ask, my voice clearer, and adding more minutes on the clock. Approach the subject with impartial curiosity. Dr. Perri did teach me something.

“What I mean is, the Russians need to go. It’s time for the Italians to reign in Chicago like they once did. This town is full of them, and I’m here to overthrow them.”

“I see,” I say gaining confidence as Chris stands by.

“How do I come in?” I inquire.

“You’re a nice opportunity. One we can use as leverage to draw your husband right into our trap.”

“He’s not stupid. He’s going to see through your game,” I say confidently because if I’m going to die, then I at least want to go out swinging.

“Oh yes, he is. My good sources tell me he’s on the way,” Bruno counters, baring his teeth.

“This plan couldn’t be working out any more perfectly if I planned it,” Chris slides in, his conceited response sparking my anger.

“Yep. The Russians are walking right into our trap.” I pray for Andrei’s safety, but I don’t let it show, clamming up as the men talk between themselves. I never expected to feel this way about Andrei… didn’t want to, but this ache in my heart tells me there’s nothing I can do about it.